b

I

Mexico, a fourth for England; and other ventures he hath, squander'da abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, land-thieves and water-thieves; mean, pirates; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient ;-three thousand ducats ;-I think I may take his bond.

BASS. Be assured you may.

SHY. I will be assured I may; and that I may be assured, I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio?

BASS. If it please you to dine with us.

SHY. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into! I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto?-Who is he comes here?

Enter ANTONIO.

BASS. This is signior Antonio.

SHY. [Aside.] How like a fawning publican he looks!

I hate him for he is a Christian :
But more, for that, in low simplicity,
He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,(4)
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
Even there where merchants most do congregate,
On me, my bargains, and my well-won* thrift,
Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe
If I forgive him!

BASS.

Shylock, do you hear?

SHY. I am debating of my present store :
And, by the near guess of my memory,
I cannot instantly raise
up the gross

Of full three thousand ducats. What of that?
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
Will furnish me. But soft: how many months
Do
you desire?-Rest you fair, good signior :
[TO ANTONIO.
Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
ANT. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow,
By taking, nor by giving of excess,
Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
I'll break a custom :-Is he yet possess'd,

(*) First folio, well-worn.

с

a Squander'd abroad.] Squandered, of old, meant only dispersed

or scattered, not as now, wasted, dissipated.

b Land-thieves and water-thieves;] The ancient copies read "water-thieves and land-thieves," which, there can be little doubt, was a printer's or transcriber's error.

SHY. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep,

This Jacob from our holy Abraham was
(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf)
The third possessor; ay, he was the third.

ANT. And what of him? did he take interest? SHY. No, not take interest; not, as you would say,

Directly interest: mark what Jacob did.
When Laban and himself were compromis'd,
That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied
Should fall, as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being rank,
In end of autumn turned to the rams:
And when the work of generation was,
Between these woolly breeders, in the act,
The skilful shepherd pill'd me certain wands,
And, in the doing of the deed of kind,
He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes ;
Who, then conceiving, did in eaning-time
Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's.
This was a way to thrive, and he was blest;
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.

ANT. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for;

A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of Heaven.
Was this inserted to make interest good?
Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
SHY. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast:
But note me, signior.

ANT.
Mark you this, Bassanio,
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek;
A goodly apple rotten at the heart;
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

SHY. Three thousand ducats,-'tis a good round

sum.

Three months from twelve, then let me see the

rate.

ANT. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you?

(*) First folio, he.

• Is he yet possess'd,-] Is he yet informed. Thus in Act IV. Sc. 1:

"I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose."

SHY. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft,"
In the Rialto (5) you have rated me
About my monies, and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe:
You call me, misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spet upon my Jewish gaberdine,(6)
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help :
Go to then you come to me, and you say,
Shylock, we would have monies; You say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; monies is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
Hath a dog money? is it possible

A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? or
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness,
Say this.-

Fair sir, you spet on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You call'd me— -dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much monies?

ANT. I am as like to call thee so again,
To spet on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not

As to thy friends; (for when did friendship take
A breed for barren metal of his friend?)"
But lend it rather to thine enemy;

Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face
Exact the penalty.+

SHY.
Why, look you, how you storm!
I would be friends with you, and have your love,
Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
Supply your present wants, and take no doit
Of usance for my monies, and you'll not hear me :
This is kind I offer.

Your single bond; and, in a merry sport,
If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum, or sums, as are
Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit
Be nominated for an equal pound

Of
your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body pleaseth * me.

ANT. Content, in faith; I'll seal to such a bond,

And say there is much kindness in the Jew. BASS. You shall not seal to such a bond for me I'll rather dwell in my necessity.

ANT. Why, fear not, man, I will not forfeit it; Within these two months,-that's a month before This bond expires,-I do expect return

Of thrice three times the value of this bond.

SHY. O father Abraham, what these Christians

are,

Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this;
If he should break his day, (7) what should I gain
By the exaction of the forfeiture?

A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man,
Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say,
To buy his favour, I extend this friendship;
If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;
And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not.

ANT. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
SHY. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;
Give him direction for this merry bond,
And I will go and purse the ducats straight;
See to my house, left in the fearful guard
Of an unthrifty knave; and presently
I will be with you.
[Exit.
ANT.
Hie thee, gentle Jew.
This Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind.
BASS. I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
ANT. Come on; in this there can be no dismay,
My ships come home a month before the day.

[Exeunt.

(*) First folio, it pleaseth.

Your single bond; and, in a merry sport,
If you repay me not, &c.]

So in the old ballad of "Gernutus."

"But we will have a merry jeast

For to be talked long;

You shall make me a bond, quoth he,

That shall be large and strong."

d I'll rather dwell, &c.] That is, alide, continue, &c.

e Left in the fearful guard-] This may denote either in the guard of one who makes you fearful to trust him; or a timorous, faint-hearted guard: the former is the usual interpretation.

Flourish of Cornets.

Enter the PRINCE OF

MOROCCO, and his Train; PORTIA, NERISSA, and other of her Attendants."

MOR. Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadowed livery of the burnish'd sun, To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, And let us make incision for your love, To prove whose blood is reddest," his, or mine. I tell thee, lady, this aspéct of mine Hath fear'd the valiant; by my love, I swear, The best-regarded virgins of our clime Have lov'd it too: I would not change this hue,

a Enter, &c.] The old stage direction is, "Enter Morochus a tawnie Moore all in white, and three or foure followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerrissa, and their traine;" which, as Mr. Collier remarks, is curious, as showing the manner in which Moors were usually dressed on the stage in Shakespeare's time. b To prove whose blood is reddest,-]"It must be remembered," Johnson says, "that red blood is a traditionary sign of courage. Thus Macbeth calls one of his frighted soldiers, a lily-liver'd boy; again, in this play, cowards are said to have livers as white as milk; and an effeminate and timorous man is termed a milksop." Among the Saxons it was the custom to cover their distinguished dead with a red pall instead of a black one, "In remembrance,"

Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
POR. In terms of choice I am not solely led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes:
Besides, the lottery of my destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing:
But, if my father had not scanted me,
And hedg'd me by his wit,d to yield myself
His wife, who wins me by that means I told you,
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair
As any comer I have look'd on yet,
For my affection.

MOR.
Even for that I thank you;
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets,(1)
To try my fortune. By this scimitar,-
That slew the Sophy, and a Persian prince,

according to Glanville, "of theyr hardynes and boldnes, whyle they were in theyr bloude."

e By nice direction of a maiden's eyes:] Nice, from the AngloSaxon nesc, or hnesc, tender, gentle, here means dainty, squeamish, as in "The Two Gentlemen of Verona," Act III. Sc. 1, and in other places:

-but she is nice and coy,

And naught esteems my aged eloquence."

d And hedg'd me by his wit,-] Wit in this case is used with its old signification, of knowledge, foresight, wisdom.

That won three fields of sultan Solyman,-
I would o'erstare the sternest eyes that look,
Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey,
To win thee, lady. But, alas the while!
If Hercules and Lichas play at dice
Which is the better man, the greater throw
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand:
So is Alcides beaten by his page; *
And so may I, blind fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.

POR.
You must take your chance;
And either not attempt to choose at all,
Or swear, before you choose,-if you choose wrong,
Never to speak to lady afterward

In way of marriage; therefore be advis❜d.

MOR. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my chance.

POR. First, forward to the temple; after dinner Your hazard shall be made. [Cornets.

MOR.

Good fortune, then! To make me bless'd, or cursed'st among men.

SCENE II.-Venice. A Street.

Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO.b

[Exeunt.

LAUN. Certainly, my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew, my master. The fiend is at mine elbow, and tempts me; saying to me,-Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away.-My conscience says,-no; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo ; or (as aforesaid) honest Launcelot Gobbo; do not run: scorn running with thy heels: well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack; Via!

(*) Old text, rage.

says

the

a But, alas the while!] The vernacular phrase, alas, or woe the while, appears to have been a parenthetical ejaculation of sorrow, with no more determinate meaning than Pistol's "lament therefore," or our "it's sad to think. It occurs again in "Henry V." Act IV. Sc. 7:

"For many of our princes (woe the while!)
Lie drown'd and soak'd in mercenary blood."

And in "Julius Cæsar," Act I. Sc. 3:

"

for Romans now

Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors,
But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead."

b Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO.] In the old copies, Enter the Clowne alone; throughout the play, too, this character is generally designated as "Clowne" on his entrance and exit.

e Scorn running with thy heels:] This figurative manner of expressing a scornful rejection of anything, is not so uncommon that it need have puzzled the critics as it has done. It occurs in "Much Ado about Nothing," Act III. Sc. 4:-"O illegitimate

fiend; away! says the fiend, for the heavens rouse up a brave mind, says the fiend, and run. Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, my honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son: or rather an honest woman's son ;-for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste;-well, my conscience says, Launcelot, budge not: budge, says the fiend; budge not, says my conscience: Conscience, say I, you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well: to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who (God bless the mark!) is a kind of devil; and to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnation: and, in my conscience, my conscience is but* a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew: the fiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment, I will run.

Enter Old GOBBO, with a basket.

GOB. Master, young man, you; I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's?

LAUN. [Aside.] O heavens, this is my truebegotten father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not: I will try confusions with him.

GOB. Master, young gentleman, I pray you which is the way to master Jew's?

LAUN. Turn upon your right hand at the next turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house.

GOB. By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him, or no?

LAUN. Talk you of young master Launcelot ?—

(*) First folio omits, but.

construction! I scorn that with my heels." So also in Rowland's Collection of Epigrams and Satires, called "The Letting of Humours Blood in the Head Vaine," 1611,

"Bidde me goe sleepe? I scorne it with my heeles." And again, in "A Crew of Kind Gossips," 1609:

"And with my heeles, I scorne it, by the Lord."

d For the heavens-] Gifford, by a note on "Every Man Out of His Humour," Act II. Sc. 1, has saved this "pretty oath" from the prohibition with which it was threatened by the Shakespeare commentators. The meaning, as he has shown by a string of instances, is simply, by heaven!

e GOBBO.-] Steevens surmised that, as Gobbo is Italian for crook-back, Shakespeare designed the old man to be represented with that deformity.

f Confusions] So the quarto by Heyes, and the folio; Roberts quarto has, conclusions.

By God's sonties,-] Sonties is a corruption of sanctities.

DD 2

Mark me now-[aside]-now will I raise the waters.-Talk you of young master Launcelot?

GOB. No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his father, though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

LAUN. Well, let his father be what a will, we talk of young master Launcelot.

GOB. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.* LAUN. But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk you of young master Launcelot. GOB. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.

a

LAUN. Ergo, master Launcelot; talk not of master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman (according to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters three, and such branches of learning) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven.

GOB. Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop.

LAUN. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovelpost, a staff, or a prop? [aside]-Do you know me, father?

GOB. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman: but, I pray you tell me, is my boy (God rest his soul!) alive or dead?

(*) First folio omits, sir.

a Ergo, master Launcelot;] The humour here, which consists In Launcelot's determination to be dignified by the title of master, and the old man's unwillingness so to honour him, is less apparent in writing than in acting, where the master Launcelot

not.

LAUN. Do you not know me, father?
GOB. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind, I know you

LAUN. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son: give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son may; but, in the end, truth will out. [Kneels. GOB. Pray you, sir, stand up; I am sure you are not Launcelot, my boy.

LAUN. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be.

GOB. I cannot think you are my son.

LAUN. I know not what I shall think of that: but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man; and I am sure Margery, your wife, is my mother.

GOB. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipped might he be! what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my phill-horse has on his tail.b

can be rendered sufficiently emphatic.

b Than Dobbin my phill-horse has on his tail.] Stage tradition, not improbably from the time of Shakespeare himself, makes Launcelot, at this point, kneel with his back to the sand-blind old father, who, of course. mistakes his long back hair for a beard, of which his face is perfectly innocent.