Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud: Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
To cureless ruin.-I stand here for law. Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend A young and learned doctor to our court:— Where is he?
He attendeth here hard by,
To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. Duke. With all my heart:-some three or four
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much, To mitigate the justice of thy plea; Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
Shy. My deed's upon my head! I crave the law, The penalty and forfeit of iny bond.
Por. Is he not able to discharge the money? Bass. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court; Yea, twice the sum: if that will not suffice, Go give him courteous conduct to this place.- will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, Mean time, the court shall hear Bellario's letter. On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart: [Clerk reads.] Your grace shall understand, If this will not suffice, it must appear that, at the receipt of your letter, I am very sick That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you, but in the instant that your messenger came, in Wrest once the law to your authority: loving visitation was with me a young doctor of To do a great right, do a little wrong; Rome, his name is Balthazar: I acquainted him And curb this cruel devil of his will." with the cause in controversy between the Jew and Por. It must not be; there is no power in Venice Antonio the merchant: we turned o'er many books Can alter a decree established: together: he is furnish'd with my opinion; which, 'Twill be recorded for a precedent; better'd with his own learning (the greatness And many an error, by the same example, whereof I cannot enough commend,) comes with Will rush into the state; it cannot be. him, at my importunity, to fill up your grace's request in my stead. I beseech you, let his lack of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend O estimation; for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his commendation.
Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes:
And here, I take it, is the doctor come.
Enter Portia, dressed like a doctor of laws. Give me your hand: came you from old Bellario Por. I did, my lord.
Duke. You are welcome: take your place. Are you acquainted with the difference That holds this present question in the court? Por. I am informed thoroughly of the cause. Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew? Duke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth. Por. Is your name Shylock? Shy. Shylock is my name. Por. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow; Yet in such rule, that the Venetian law Cannot impugn1 you, as you do proceed.- You stand within his danger, do you not?
Ant. Ay, so he says. Por.
[To Antonio. Do you confess the bond?
Ant. I do. Por. Then must the Jew be merciful. Shy. On what compulsion must I? tell me that. Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd; It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: "Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown: His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this scepter'd sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's, When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this,- That, in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy: And that same prayer doth teach us all to render (2) Reach or control.
Shy. A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Da
wise young judge, how do I honour thee! Por. I pray you, let me look upon the bond. Shy. Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is. Por. Shylock, there's thrice thy money offer'd thee.
Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? No, not for Venice.
Why, this bond is forfeit; And lawfully by this the Jew may claim A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off Nearest the merchant's heart :-Be merciful; Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.
Shy. When it is paid according to the tenor.- It doth appear, you are a worthy judge; You know the law, your exposition Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law, Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar, Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear, There is no power in the tongue of man To alter me: I stay here on my bond.
Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court To give the judgment.
Por. Why then, thus it is. You must prepare your bosom for his knife. Shy. O noble judge! O excellent young man! Por. For the intent and purpose of the law Hath full relation to the penalty, Which here appeareth due upon the bond.
Shy. 'Tis very true: O wise and upright judge! How much more elder art thou than thy looks!" Por. Therefore, lay bare your bosom. Shy. Ay, his breast: So says the bond;-Doth it not, noble judge?— Nearest his heart, those are the very words. Por. It is so. Áre there balance here, to weigh The flesh? Shy. Por. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge,
To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. Shy. Is it so nominated in the bond? Por. It is not so express'd; But what of that? 'Twere good you do so much for charity.
Shy. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond. Por. Come, merchant, have you any thing to say! Ant. But little; I am arm'd, and well prepar'd.- Give me your hand, Bassanio; fare you well! Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you; For herein fortune shows herself more kind
Than is her custom: it is still her use, To let the wretched man out-live his wealth, To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow, An age of poverty; from which lingering penance Of such a misery doth she cut me off. Commend me to your honourable wife: Tell her the process of Antonio's end, Say, how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death; And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge, Whether Bassanio had not once a love. Repent not you that you shall lose your friend, And he repents not that he pays your debt; For if the Jew do cut but deep enough, I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.
Bass. Antonio, I am married to a wife, Which is as dear to me as life itself; But life itself, my wife, and all the world, Are not with me esteem'd above thy life: I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all Here to this devil, to deliver you.
Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate. Gra. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!
Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip.
Por. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy for feiture.
Shy. Give me my principal, and let me go. Bass. I have it ready for thee; here it is. Por. He hath refus'd it in the open court; He shall have merely justice, and his bond. Gra. A Daniel, still say I; a second Daniel !- I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. Shy. Shall I not have barely my principal? Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.
Shy. Why then the devil give him good of it! I'll stay no longer question.
The law hath yet another hold on you.
It is enacted in the laws of Venice,- If it be prov'd against an alien,
Por. Your wife would give you little thanks for That by direct, or indirect attempts,
If she were by, to hear you make the offer.
Gra. I have a wife, whom I protest I love; I would she were in heaven, so she could Entreat some power to change this currish Jew. Ner. 'Tis well you offer it behind her back; The wish would make else an unquiet house. Shy. These be the Christian husbands: I have daughter;
'Would any of the stock of Barabbas Had been her husband, rather than a Christian!
He seek the life of any citizen,
The party, 'gainst the which he dotn contrive, Shall seize one half his goods; the other half Comes to the privy cofler of the state; And the offender's life lies in the mercy Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice. In which predicament, I say thou stand'st: a For it appears by manifest proceeding, That, indirectly, and directly too, Thou hast contriv'd against the very life Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd The danger formerly by me rehears'd. Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke.
We trifle time: I pray thee pursue sentence. Por. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine;
The court awards it, and the law doth give it. Shy. Most rightful judge!
Por. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast;
The law allows it, and the court awards it. Shy. Most learned judge!—A sentence; come,
Por. Tarry a little, there is something else. This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; The words expressly are, a pound of flesh: Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh; But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate Unto the state of Venice.
Gra. O upright judge!-Mark, Jew ;-O learn- ed judge!
Shy. Is that the law? Por.
Thyself shalt see the act: For, as thou urgest justice, be assur'd, Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st. Gra. O learned judge!-Mark, Jew ;-a learned judge!
Shy. I take this offer then ;-pay the bond thrice, And let the Christian go.
Gra. Beg, that thou may'st have leave to hang thyself:
And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, Thou hast not left the value of a cord; Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the state's charge. Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our
I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it: For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ; The other half comes to the general state, Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.
Por. Ay, for the state; not for Antonio. Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that. You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live.
Por. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? Gra. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake. Ant. So please my lord the duke, and all the court,
To quit the fine for one half of his goods; I am content, so he will let me have The other half in use,―to render it, Upon his death, unto the gentleman That lately stole his daughter:
Two things provided more,-That, for this favour, He presently become a Christian The other, that he do record a gift, Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd,
The Jew shall have all justice;-soft!-no haste;-Unto his son Lorenzo, and his daughter. He shall have nothing but the penalty.
Gra. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge! Por. Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh. Shed thou no blood; nor cut thou less, nor more, But just a pound of flesh: if thou tak'st more, Or less, than a just pound,-be it but so much As makes it light, or heavy, in the substance, Or the division of the twentieth part
Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn But in the estimation of a hair,—
Duke. He shall do this; or else I do recant The pardon, that I late pronounced here. Por. Art thou contented, Jew, what dost thou say?
Por. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. Shy. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence; I am not well; send the deed after me, And I will sign it.
Get thee gone, but do it.
Gra. In christening thou shalt have two god-SCENE II.-The same. A street. Enter Portia fathers;
Had I been judge, thou should'st have had ten
To bring thee to the gallows, not the font.
[Exit Shylock. Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. Por. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon; I must away this night toward Padua, And it is meet, I presently set forth.
Por. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this
Gra. Fair sir, you are well overtaken:
Duke. I am sorry, that your leisure serves you My lord Bassanio, upon more advice,
Antonio, gratify this gentleman ; For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. [Exeunt Duke, magnificoes, and train. Bass. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend, Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof, Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew, We freely cope your courteous pains withal.
Ant. And stand indebted, over and above, In love and service to you evermore.
Por. He is well paid, that is well satisfied; And I, delivering you, am satisfied, And therein do account myself well paid ; My mind was never yet more mercenary, I pray you, know me, when we meet again; I wish you well, and so I take my leave.
Bass. Dear sir, of force I must attempt you fur- ther;
Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute, Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you, Not to deny me, and to pardon me.
Hath sent you here this ring; and doth entreat Your company at dinner.
This ring I do accept most thankfully, And so, I pray you, tell him: Furthermore, pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house. Gra. That will I do. Ner.
Sir, I would speak with you:- I'll see if I can get my husband's ring, [To Portia. Which I did make him swear to keep for ever. Por. Thou may'st, I warrant: We shall have old swearing,
That they did give the rings away to men; But we'll outface them, and outswear them too. Away, make haste; thou know'st where I will tarry. Ner. Come, good sir, will you show me to this house? [Exeunt.
Por. You press me far, and therefore I will SCENE I.-Belmont. Avenue to Portia's house.
yield. Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake;| And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you:- Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more; And you in love shall not deny me this.
Bass. This ring, good sir,-alas, it is a trifle; I will not shame myself to give you this.
Por. I will have nothing else but only this; And now, methinks, I have a mind to it. Bass. There's more depends on this, than
The dearest ring in Venice will I give you, And find it out by proclamation;
Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.
Por. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers: You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks, You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd. Bass. Good sir, this ring was given me by my
And, when she put it on, she made me vow, That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it. Por. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts.
An if your wife be not a mad woman, And know how well I have deserv'd this ring, She would not hold out enemy for ever, For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you! [Exeunt Portia and Nerissa. Ant. My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring; Let his deservings, and my love withal, Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.
Bass. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him, Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou canst, Unto Antonio's house :-away, make haste. [Exit Gratiano.
Come, you and I will thither presently; And in the morning early will we both Fly toward Belmont: Come, Antonio. [Exeunt. (1) Reflection.
Enter Lorenzo and Jessica.
Lor. The moon shines bright:-In such a night
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise; in such a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night.
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew; In such a night, And saw the lion's shadow ere himself, And ran disinay'd away.
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand Upon the wild sca-banks, and wav'd her love To come again to Carthage.
Medea gather'd the enchanted
That did renew old son. Lor.
In such a night, Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew: And with an unthrift love did run from Venice, As far as Belmont. And in such a night, Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well; Stealing her soul with many vows of faith, And ne'er a true one.
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, And in such a night, Slander her love, and he forgave it her. Jes. I would out-night you, did nobody cume: But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. Enter Stephano.
Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night? Steph. A friend.
Lor. A friend? what friend? your name, I pray
Steph. Stephano is my name; and I bring word,
My mistress will before the break of day Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours.
Who comes with her? Steph. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. I pray you, is my master yet return'd? Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from
But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house.
Laun. Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, soia, sola!
Enter Portia and Nerissa, al a distance. Por. That light we see, is burning in my hall. How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less⚫ A substitute shines brightly as a king, Until a king be by; and then his state Emptics itself, as doth an inland brook Into the main of waters. Music! hark!
Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect; Methinks, it sounds much sweeter than by day. Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,
Laun. Sola! did you see master Lorenzo, and When neither is attended; and, I think, mistress Lorenzo? sola, sola!
Lor. Leave hollaing, man; here. Laun. Sola! where? where? Lor. Here.
Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news; my mas- ter will be here ere morning. [Exit.
Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their| coming.
And yet no matter;-Why should we go in? My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, Within the house, your mistress is at hand; And bring your music forth into the air.-
[Exit Stephano. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica: Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines' of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins: Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.-
Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive: For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood; If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Or any air of music touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze, By the sweet power of music: Therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard, and fut of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature: The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music.
(1) A small flet dish, used in the administration of the Eucharist,
The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season season'd are To their right praise, and true perfection!- Peace, hoa! the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awak'd! [Music ceases. Lor. That is the voice,
Or I am much doceiv'd, of Portia. Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo, By the bad voice.
Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare,
Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Are they return'd?
Madam, they are not yet; But there is come a messenger before, To signify their coming. Por. Go in, Nerissa, Give order to my servants, that they take No note at all of our being absent hence ;— Nor you, Lorenzo ;-Jessica, nor you.
A tucket2 sounds. Lor. Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet: We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not. Por. This night, methinks, is but the day-light sick,
It looks a little paler; 'tis a day,
Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their followers.
Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes, If you would walk in absence of the sun.
Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light; For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, And never be Bassanio so for me;
But God sort all!-You are welcome home, my lord. Bass. I thank you, madam: give welcome to my friend.-
This is the man, this is Antonio, To whom I am so infinitely bound.
Por. You should in all sense be much bound to
In faith, gave it to the judge's clerk: Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. Por. A quarrel, ho, already? what's the inatter? Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring That she did give me; whose posy was For all the world, like cutler's poetry Upon a knife, Love me, and leave me not.
Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value? You swore to me, when I did give it you, That you would wear it till your hour of death; And that it should lie with you in your grave: Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, You should have been respective,' and have kept it. Gave it a judge's clerk !-but well I know, The clerk will ne'er wear hair on his face, that
Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy, No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk; A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee; I could not for my heart deny it him.
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me, And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him, And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away:
Even he that had held up the very life
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady? I was enforc'd to send it after him;
I was beset with shame and courtesy ; My honour would not let ingratitude
So much besincar it: Pardon me, good lady; For, by these blessed candles of the night, Had you been there, I think, you would have begg'd The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.
Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house:
Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, And that which you did swear to keep for me, I will become as liberal as you: I'll not deny him any thing I have,
No, not my body, nor my husband's bed: youth,-Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:
Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, To part so slightly with your wife's first gift; A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger, And riveted so with faith unto your flesh. I gave my love a ring, and made him swear Never to part with it; and here he stands; I dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it, Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief; An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it.
Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, And swear, I lost the ring defending it.
Gra. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away Unto the judge that begg'd it, and, indeed, Deserv'd it too; and then the boy, his clerk, That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine: And neither man, nor master, would take aught But the two rings.
Por. What ring gave you, my lord? Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me. Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault,
I would deny it; but you see my finger Hath not the ring upon it, it is gone.
Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed Until I see the ring.
Till I again see mine. Sweet Portia, Bass. If you did know to whom I gave the ring, If you did know for whom I gave the ring, And would conceive for what I gave the ring, And how unwillingly I left the ring, When nought would be accepted but the ring, You would abate the strength of your displeasure. Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring, Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, Or your own honour to contain the ring, You would not then have parted with the ring. What man is there so much unreasonable, If you had pleas'd to have defended it, With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty To urge the thing held as a ceremony? Nerissa teaches me what to believe; I'll die for't, but some woman had the ring. Bass. No, by mine honour, madam, by my No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus: If you do not, if I be left alone,
Now, by mine honour, which is yet my own, I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.
Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd, How you do leave me to mine own protection.
Gra. Well, do you so: let not me take him then; For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.
Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. Por. Sir, grieve not you; You are welcome notwithstanding.
Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforc'd wrong; And, in the hearing of these many friends, I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, Wherein I see myself,-
Mark you but that! In both my eyes he doubly sees himself: In each eye one :-swear by your double self, And there's an oath of credit.
Nay, but hear me: Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear, I never more will break an oath with thee. Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth; [To Portia. Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again, My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord Will never more break faith advisedly.
Por. Then you shall be his surety: Give him this; And bid him keep it better than the other. Ant. Here, lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring.
Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor. Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; For by this ring the doctor lay with me.
Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.
Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserved it? Por. Speak not so grossly.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure; It comes from Padua, from Bellario: There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor; Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you, And but even now return'd; I have not yet Enter'd my house.-Antonio, you are welcome; And I have better news in store for you, Than you expect: unseal this letter soon; There you shall, three of your argosies Are richly come to harbour suddenly: You shall not know by what strange accident
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