Bass. Your answer to that, i qu Shy. Antonio is a good man. [contrary? Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no;-my meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient: yet his means are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England,—and other ventures he hath, squander'd abroad: but ships are but boards, sailors but men there be land-rats, and waterrats, water-thieves, and land-thieves; I 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 máy. 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 Shy. Yes, to smell port; 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: Bass. Shylock, do you hear? 3 Shy. I am debating of my present store; Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend, Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. [so. Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told me Well then, your bond; and, let me see, but hear you; Methought, you said, you neither lend, nor borrow, Ant. I do never use it. This Jacob from our holy Abraham was [say, Ant. And what of him? did he take interest Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd Ant. Mark you this, Bassanio, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek; A goodly apple, rotten at the heart; [sum. Shy. Three thousand ducats, 'tis a good round Three months from twelve, then let me see the rate. Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you A cur can lend three thousand ducats?' or Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; Ant. I am as like to call thee so again, Shy. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep, But lend it rather to thine enemy; Who, if he break, thou may'st 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. Ant. This were kindness. Shy. This kindness will I show. In such a place, such sum, or sums, as are 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 SCENE I. Of thrice three times the value of this bond. [are. Ant. Hie thee, gentle Jew, [exit. 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. ACT II. BELMONT. A ROOM IN PORTIA'S HOUSE. Flourish of cornets. Enter the Prince of Morocco, and his train; Portio, Nerissa, and other of her Attendants. Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd 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 aspect 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, 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, 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, To try my fortune. By this scimitar,That slew the Sophy, and a Persian prince, That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,I would out-stare the sternest eyes that look, Out-brave 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: [exeunt. So is Alcides beaten by his page; Por. You must take your chance; 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 dinuer Your hazard shall be made. 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'! says the 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, be| ing 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 Laun. [aside.] O heavens, this is my true-begotten father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not:-I will try conclusions with him. Gob. Master, young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's? Laun. Turn up on 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?— 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 he 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. 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 hovel-post, a staff, or a prop? 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? Laun. Do you not know me, father? not. 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. 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 Launce. lot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be. Gob. I cannot think, you are my son. Luun. 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 thill-horse, has on his tail. Laun. It should seem then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am sure he had more hair on his tail, than I have on my face, when I last saw him. Gob. Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present; how 'gree you now? Laun. Well, well; but, for my own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground: my master's a very Jew. Give him a present! give him a halter. I am famished in his service: you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come; give me your present to one mas. ter Bassanio, who, indeed, gives new rare liveries: if I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. O, rare fortune! here comes the man;-to him, father: for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer. Enter Bassanio, with Leonardo, and other followers. Bass. You may do so; but let it be so hasted, Laun. To him, father. Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man; that would, sir, as my father shall specify Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve. Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and I have a desire, as my father shall specify, Gob. His master and he, (saving your worship's reverence,) are scarce cater cousins. Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being I hope an old man, shall frutify unto you Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would bestow upon your worship; and my suit is Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say it, though old man, yet, poor man, my father. Bass. One speak for both; what would you? Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, sir. suit: Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, Laun. The old proverb is very well parted between my master Shylock and you, sir; you have the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough. Gra. And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest; SCENE III. THE SAME. A ROOM IN SHYLOCK'S Enter Jessica and Launcelot. Bass. Thou speak'st it well: go, father, with Take leave of thy old master, and inquire [thy son; My lodging out.-- Give him a livery [to his followers. More guarded than his fellows: See it done. Laun. Father, in: I cannot get a service, no; I have ne'er a tongue in my head. Well, [looking on his palm] if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon a book.-I Laun. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most shall have good fortune; go to, here's a simple line beautiful pagan,-most sweet Jew! If a Christian of life! here's a small trifle of wives: alas, fifteen do not play the knave, and get thee, I am much wives are nothing; eleven widows and nine maids, deceived: but, adieu! these foolish drops do some. is a simple coming-in for one man: and then, to what drown my manly spirit; adieu! [exit. 'scape drowning thrice; and to be in peril of my Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot. life with the edge of a feather-bed: here are simple Alack, what heinous sin is it in me, 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman, she's a To be asham'd to be my father's child! good wench for this gear. Father, come; I'll take But, though I am a daughter to his blood, my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye. I am not to his manners: O, Lorenzo, [exeunt Launcelot and old Gobbo. If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this;,Become a Christian, and thy loving wife. [exit. These things being bought, and orderly bestow'd, Return in haste, for I do feast to-night My best-esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go. Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein. Enter Gratiano." Gra. Where is your master? Leon. Yonder, sir, he walks. [Exit Leonardo. Bass. Gratiano! Gra. I have a suit to you. Bass. You have obtain❜d it. [you to Belmont. Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice; Gra. Signior Bassanio, hear me; Bass. No, that were pity; [gage mé I would entreat you rather to put on SCENE IV. THE SAME. A STREET. Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Salanio. Gra. We have not made good preparation. Enter Launcelot, with a letter. Lor. I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand; Gra. Love-news, in faith. Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew [exit Launcelot. Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? I am provided of a torch-bearer. Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it strait. Lor. Meet me, and Gratiano, At Gratiano's lodging, some hour hence, Jes. Call you? what is your will? Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica; Laun. I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach. Shy. So do I his. Laun. And they have conspired together, I will not say, you shall see a masque; but, if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on Black-Monday last, at six o'clock i'the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year in the afternoon. [Jessica: Shy. What! are there masques? Hear you me, Laun. I will go before, sir, There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [exit Laun. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be rot crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [exit. SCENE VI. THE SAME. Enter Gratiano and Salarino, masked. Salar. His hour is almost past. Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons' fly, Gra. That ever holds: -who riseth from a Salar. Here comes Lorenzo; more of this here- Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait; Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed; Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou art. Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the I am glad 'tis night; you do not look on me, Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jes. His words were, farewell, mistress; noth- And I should be obscur'd. Sny. The patch is kind enough; but a huge Shut doors after you: fast bind, fast find; [exit. Lor. So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. For the close night doth play the run-away, Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself With some more ducats, and be with you straight. [exit, from above. Gra. Now, by my hood, a gentile, and no Jew. |