Ner. Madam, it is, so you stand pleas'd withal. Bass. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith? Gra. Yes, 'faith, my lord.

Bass. Our feast shall be much honour'd in your marriage.

Gra. We'll play with them, the first boy for a thousand ducats.

Ner. What, and stake down?

Gra. No; we shall ne'er win at that sport, and] stake down.

But who comes here? Lorenzo, and his infidel?
What, and my old Venetian friend, Salerio?

Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO.
Bass. Lorenzo, and Salerio, welcome hither?
If that the youth of my new interest here
Have power to bid you welcome :-By your leave,
I bid my very friends and countrymen,
Sweet Portia, welcome.

Por.

So do I, my lord; They are entirely welcome.

Lor. I thank your honour: For my part, my lord,
My purpose was not to have seen you here;
But meeting with Salerio by the way,

He did entreat me, past all saying nay,
To come with him along.

Sale.

I did, my lord, Signior Antonio [Gives BASSANIO a letter. Ere I ope his letter, I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth. Sale. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind; Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there Will show you his estate.

Gra. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her wel

come.

Your hand, Salerio; What's the news from Venice?
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio ?
I know, he will be glad of our success;
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.
Sale. 'Would you had won the fleece that he
hath lost!

Por. There are some shrewd contents in yon'
same paper,
That steal the colour from Bassanio's cheek:
Some dear friend dead: else nothing in the world
Could turn so much the constitution

Of any constant' man. What, worse and worse?-
With leave, Bassanio; I am half yourself,
And I must freely have the half of any thing
That this same paper brings you.

Bass.
O, sweet Portia,
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady,
When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman;
And then I told you true: and yet, dear lady,
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see

How much I was a braggart: When I told you
My state was nothing, I should then have told you
That I was worse than nothing: for, indeed,
I have engag'd myself to a dear friend,
Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy,
To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady
The paper as the body of my friend,
And every word in it a gaping wound,
Issuing life-blood-But is it true, Salerio?
Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?
From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England,
From Lisbon, Barbary, and India?

And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch
Of merchant-marring rocks?

Sale.
Not one, my lord.
Besides, it should appear, that if he had
The present money to discharge the Jew,
He would not take it: Never did I know

1 It should be remembered that stedfast, sad, grave, sober, were ancient synonymes of constant.

A creature, that did bear the shape of man
So keen and greedy to confound a man:
He plies the duke at morning, and at night;
And doth impeach the freedom of the state,
If they deny him justice: twenty merchants,
The duke himself, and the magnificoes
Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him;
But none can drive him from the envious plea
Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond.

Jes. When I was with him, I have heard him swear,

To Tubal, and to Chus, his countrymen,
That he would rather have Antonio's flesh,
Than twenty times the value of the sum
That he did owe him: and I know, my lord,
If law, authority, and power deny not,
It will go hard with poor Antonio.

Por. Is it your dear friend, that is thus in trouble?
Bass. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man
The best condition'd and unwearied spirit
In doing courtesies; and one in whom
The ancient Roman honour more appears,
Than any that draws breath in Italy.
Por. What sum owes he the Jew?
Bass. For me, three thousand ducats.
Por.
What, no more?
Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond;
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description
Should lose a hair2 through Bassanio's fault.
First, go with me to church, and call me wife:
And then away to Venice to your friend;
For never shall you lie by Portia's side
With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold
То pay the petty debt twenty times over;
When it is paid, bring your true friend along
My maid Nerissa and myself, mean time,
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away;
For you shall hence upon your wedding-day:
Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer;
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.-
But let me hear the letter of your friend.

Bass. [Reads.] Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since, in paying it, it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and I, if I might but see you ut my death: notwithstanding, use your pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter. Por. O love, despatch all business, and be gone. Bass. Since I have your good leave to go away, I will make haste: but, till I come again, No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay,

Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain.

[Exeunt.

bond;

I have sworn an oath, that I will have my bond:
Thou call'dst me dog, before thou hadst a cause:
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs :
The duke shall grant me justice.I do wonder,
Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his request.
Ant. I pray thee, hear me speak.

Shy I'll have my bond; will not hear thee speak;

I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
I'll not be made a soft and dull-ey'd fool,
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield
To christian intercessors. Follow not;
I'll have no speaking; I will have my bond.
[Exit SHYLOCK.

2 Hair is here used as a dissyllable.
3 i. e. air of countenance, look.

4 Foolish.

Salan. It is the most impenetrable cur, That ever kept with men.

Ant.

Let him alone;
I'll follow him no more with bootless prayers.
He seeks my life; his reason well I know;
I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures

Many that have at times made moan to me;
Therefore he hates me.

Salan.
I am sure, the duke
Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.

Ant. The duke cannot deny the course of law;
For the commodity that strangers have
With us in Venice, if it be denied,
Will much impeach the justice of the state;'
Since that the trade and profit of the city
Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go:
These griefs and losses have so 'bated me,
That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
To-morrow to my bloody creditor.-
Well, gaoler, on :---Pray God, Bassanio come
To see me pay his debt, and then I care not!
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Enter PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and Balthazar.

Lor. Madam, although I speak it in your presence,

You have a noble and a true conceit
Of god-like amity; which appears most strongly
In bearing thus the absence of your lord.
But, if you knew to whom you show this honour,
How true a gentleman you send relief,
How dear a lover of my lord your husband,
I know, you would be prouder of the work,
Than customary bounty can enforce you.

Por. I never did repent for doing good,
Nor shall not now: for in companions
That do converse and waste the time together,
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love,
There must be needs a like proportion
Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit;
Which makes me think, that this Antonio,
Being the bosom lover of my lord,
Must needs be like my lord: If it be so,
How little is the cost I have bestow'd,
In purchasing the semblance of my soul
From out the state of hellish cruelty?
This comes too near the praising of myself!
Therefore, no more of it: hear other things.
Lorenzo, Í commit into your hands

The husbandry and manage of my house,
Until my lord's return; for mine own part
I have toward heaven breath'd a secret vow,
To live in prayer and contemplation,
Only attended by Nerissa here,
Until her husband and my lord's return:
There is a monastery two miles off,

And there we will abide. I do desire you,
Not to deny this imposition;

The which my love, and some necessity,
Now lays upon you.

Lor.

Madam, with all my heart

I shall obey you in all fair commands.
Por. My people do already know my mind,
And will acknowledge you and Jessica,

In place of lord Bassanio and myself.
So fare you well, till we shall meet again.

Lor. Fair thoughts, and happy hours, attend on

you.

Now, Balthazar,

As I have ever found thee honest, true,
So let me find thee still: Take this same letter,
And use thou all the endeavour of a man,
In speed to Padua; see thou render this
Into my cousin's hand, doctor Bellario;
And, look, what notes and garments he doth give
thee,

Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd speed*
Unto the tranect, to the common ferry
Which trades to Venice :-waste no time in words,
But get thee gone: I shall be there before thee.
Balth. Madam, I go with all convenient speed.

(Eril

Por. Come on, Nerissa; I have work in hand, That you yet know not of: we'll see our husbands, Before they think of us. Ner.

Shall they see us? Por. They shall, Nerissa; but in such a habit, That they shall think we are accomplished With what we lack. I'll hold thee any wager, When we are both accouter'd like young men, I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two, And wear my dagger with the braver grace: And speak, between the change of man and boy, With a reed voice; and turn two mincing steps Into a manly stride; and speak of frays, Like a fine bragging youth and tell quaint lies, How honourable ladies sought my love, Which I denying, they fell sick and died; I could not do withal :-then I'll repent, And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell,

That men shall swear, I have discontinued school Above a twelvemonth:-I have within my mind A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks, Which I will practise.

Ner. Why, shall we turn to men? Por. Fye; what a question's that, If thou wert near a lewd interpreter? But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device When I am in my coach, which stays for us At the park gate; and therefore haste away, For we must measure twenty miles to-day.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. The same. A Garden. Enter LAUN CELOT and JESSICA.

Laun. Yes, truly: for, look you, the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children; therefore, I promise you, I fear you." I was always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of the mat ter: Therefore, be of good cheer; for, truly, think, you are damn'd. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good; and that is but a kind of bastard hope neither.

Jes. And what hope is that, I pray thee? Laun. Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not, that you are not the Jew's daughter.

Jes. That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed, so the sins of my mother should be visited upon me. Laun. Truly then I fear you are damn'd both by father and mother; thus when I shun Scylla, your

2 The word lineaments was used with great laxity by our ancient writers.

4 i. e. with the celerity of imagination.

This word can only be illustrated at present by con

more than I could not help it.'

7 So in K. Richard III.

"The king is sickly, weak, and melancholy, And his physicians fear him mightily'

Enter LORENZO.

Jes. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here he comes.

Lor. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you thus get my wife into corners.

Jes. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and I are out: he tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter: and he says you are no good member of the commonwealth; for, in converting Jews to Christians, you raise the price of pork.

Lor. I shall answer that better to the commonwealth, than you can the getting up of the negro's belly: the Moor is with child by you, Launcelot.

Laun. It is much, that the Moor should be more2 than reason: but if she be less than an honest woman, she is, indeed, more than I took her for. Lor. How every fool can play upon the word! I think, the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence; and discourse grow commendable in none only but parrots.-Go In, sirrah; bid them prepare

for dinner.

Laun. That is done, sir; they have all stomachs. Lor. Goodly lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then bid them prepare dinner.

Laun. That is done too, sir; only, cover is the word.

Lor. Will you cover then, sir?

Laun. Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty. Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occasion! Wilt thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray thee, understand a plain man in his plain meaning: go to thy fellows; bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner. Laun. For the table, sir, it shall be served in: for the meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and conceits shall govern. [Exit LAUNCELOT. Lor. O dear discretion, how his words are suited! The fool hath planted in his memory An army of good words: And I do know As many fools, that stand in better place, Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica! And now, good sweet, say thy opinion, How dost thou like the lord Bassanio's wife?

Jes. Past all expressing: It is very meet,
The lord Bassanio live an upright life;
For, having such a blessing in his lady,
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth;
And, if on earth he do not mean it, it
Is reason he should never come to heaven.

Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,
And Portia one, there must be something else

1 Alluding to the well known line.

Even such a husband Hast thou of me, as she is for a wife. Jes. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that. Lor. I will anon; first let us go to dinner. Jes. Nay, let me praise you, while I have a sto mach.

Lor. No, pray thee let it serve for table-talk; Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things I shall digest it. Well, I'll set you forth. [Exeunt.

Jes.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Venice. A Court of Justice. Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes; ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO, and others. Duke. What, is Antonio here?

Ant. Ready, so please your grace.

Duke. I am sorry for thee; thou art come to

answer

A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch Uncapable of pity, void and empty From any dram of mercy.

Ant.

I have heard,

Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose
My patience to his fury; and am arm'd
The very tyranny and rage of his.
To suffer, with a quietness of spirit,

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
Salan. He's ready at the door: he comes, my lord
Enter SHYLOCK.

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face.

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,
That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then, 'tis thought,
Thou'lt show thy mercy, and remorse," more strange
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty:
And where thou now exact'st the penalty,
(Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,)
Thou wilt not only lose the forfeiture,
But touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back;
Enough to press a royal merchant down,
And pluck commiseration of his state
From brassy bosoms, and rough hearts of flint,
From stubborn Turks, and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.

Shy. I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose;

And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn,
To have the due and forfeit of my bond:
If you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your charter, and your city's freedom.
You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats: I'll not answer that:❞
But, say, it is my humour;10 Is it answer'd?

This epithet was striking and well understood in Shak speare's time, when Gresham was dignified with the title of the royal merchant, both from his wealth, and because he constantly transacted the mercantile busi

6 i. e. seeming, not real.

7 Whereas.

9 The Jew being asked a question which the law does not require him to answer, stands upon his right and refuses; but afterwards gratifies his own malignity by such answers as he knows will aggravate the pain of the inquirer. I will not answer, says he, as to a legal question; but, since you want an answer, will this serve you!