The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare

[contrary?

Bass. Your answer to that, - quid volume Shy. Antonio is a good man. D 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 i 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? La

Bass. If it please you dine with us. 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 I hate him, for he is a Christian: [looks!

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,

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 Ant. 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, How much you would?,

Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. Ant. And for three months. [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, Upon advantage.

Ant. I do never use it.

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
Directly interest; mark what Jacob did. [say,
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 the end of autumn turned to the r
rams:
And when the work of generation was
Between these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilful shepherd peel'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 A thing not in his power to bring to pass, [for, 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.

LTL 1

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!

[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 Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft, In the Rialto 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 spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, 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,

77 8.

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,

Shy. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep, But lend it rather to thine enemy;

To spit 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?)

Ant. This were kindness.

Shy. This kindness will I show.
Go with me to a notary, seal me there
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 boud, 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. 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.

Of thrice three times the value of this bond. [are
Shy. O, father Abraham, what these Christians
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this:
If he should break his day, 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.

Ant. Hie thee, gentle Jew,

ACT II.

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 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:

[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.

[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'! 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, 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 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?

| lot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be.

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

not.

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. 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. 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 that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the talk of young master Launcelot. clock: See these letters delivered; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. [exit a servant.

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?

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.

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.

Gob. God bless your worship!
Bass. Gramercy; wouldst thou ought with me?
Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy-

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?
Laun. Serve you, sir.

Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, sir.
Bass. I know thee well, thou hast obtained thy

suit:

Gra. And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest;
But we will visit you at supper-time. [exeunt.

SCENE II. THE SAME. A ROOM IN SHYLOCK'S
HOUSE.

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.

Jes. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so;
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness:
But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee.
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest:
Give him this letter; do it secretly,
And so farewell; I would not have my father
See me talk with thee.

Laun. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most
beautiful pagan,-most sweet Jew! If a Christian
do not play the knave, and get thee, I am much
deceived: but, adieu! these foolish drops do some.
what drown my manly spirit; adieu!
[exit.

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 shall have good fortune; go to, here's a simple line of life! here's a small trifle of wives: alas, fifteen wives are nothing; eleven widows and nine maids, is a simple coming-in for one man: and then, to 'scape drowning thrice; and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed: here are simple 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear. Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye. [exeunt Launcelot and old Gobbo. 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. Gra. Signior Bassanio,

Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot.
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me,
To be asham'd to be my father's child!
But, though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners: O, Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife

Bass. Grattano !

Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day,
And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment,
To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
The follower of so poor a gentleman.

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.

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Gra. Signior Bassanio, hear me; If I do not put on a sober habit,

Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer books in my pocket, look demurely;
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say, amen;
Use all the observance of civility,
Like one well studied in a sad ostent
To please his grandam; never trust me more.
Bass. Well, we shall see your bearing.
Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not
By what we do to-night.
[gage mé

Bass. No, that were pity;

I would entreat you rather to put on
Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose merriment: but, fare you well,
I have some business.

SCENE IV. THE SAME. A STREET.

Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Salanio.
Lor. Nay, we will slink away at supper-time;
Disguise us at my lodging, and return
All in an hour.

Gra. We have not made good preparation. Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. Salan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd; And better, in my mind, not undertook.

Lor. 'Tis now but four o'clock; we have two
To furnish us:-
[hours

Enter Launcelot, with a letter.
Friend Launcelot, what's the news?

Laun. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify.

Lor. I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand;
And whiter than the paper it writ on,
Is the fair hand that writ.

Gra. Love-news, in faith.

Laun. By your leave, sir.
Lor. Whither goest thou?

Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew
to sup to-night with my new master the Christian.
Lor. Hold here, take this:-tell gentle Jessica,
I will not fail her; speak it privately; go.
Gentlemen,
[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.
Salan. And so will I.

Lor. Meet me, and Gratiano,

At Gratiano's lodging, some hour hence,
Salar.'Tis good we do so.exeunt Salar. and Salan.
Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica?
Lor. I must needs tell thee all: she hath directed
How I shall take her from her father's house;
What gold, and jewels, she is furnish'd with
What page's suit she hath in readiness.

If e'er the Jew, her father, come to heaven, a
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake:

TV TOE

And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,-
That she is issue to a faithless Jew.

Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest: p
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [exeunt.
SCENE V. THE SAME. BEFORE SHYLOCK'S HOUSE.
Enter Shylock and Launcelot.

Shy. Well thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio: [judge,
What, Jessica!—thou shalt not gormandize,
As thou hast done with me;-what, Jessica!-
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;—
Why, Jessica, I say!

Laun. Why, Jessica!

Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, I
could do nothing without bidding.
Enter Jessica.

Jes. Call you? what is your will?

Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica;

Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be rot crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [erit.

Mistress, look out at window, for all this;
There will come a Christian by,

Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [exit Laun.
Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring,

ha?

There are my keys. But wherefore should I go? Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
I am not bid for love; they flatter me.
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house: I am right loth to go;
There is some ill a brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

How like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!
Enter Lorenzo,

Salar. Here comes Lorenzo; more of this here-
after.

Laun. I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach.

Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode;

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,
Lock up my doors: and when you hear the drum,
And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street,
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces;
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements:
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter: bul
My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear, de
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
But I will go.-Go you before me, sirrah:
Say, I will come.

Laun. I will go before, sir,

SCENE VI. THE SAME.

Enter Gratiano and Salarino, masked.

Gra. This is the pent-house, under which LorDesir'd us to make stand. [enzo

Salar. His hour is almost past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons' fly,
To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds: who riseth from a
With that keen appetite that he sits down? [feast,
Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,

The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,

Sny. The patch is kind enough; but a huge
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day [feeder,
More than the wild cat; drones hive not with me;
Therefore I part with him; and part with him
To one that I would have him help to waste
His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in;b H
Perhaps, I will return immediately; ; fewel he
Do, as I bid you,

POMAR

Shut doors after you: fast bind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [exit.

茹

Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait;
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then.-Approach;
Here dwells my father Jew:-Ho! who's within?

Enter Jessica above, dressed in boy's clothes.
Jes. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll swear that I do know vour tongue.

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed; For who love I so much? and now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou art.panti

Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the

pains.

I am glad 'tis night; you do not look on me,
For I am much asham'd of my exchange:
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For, if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, good sooth, are too, too light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love;

Jes. His words were, farewell, mistress; noth- And I should be obscur❜d.
ing else.
Lor. So are you, sweet,
Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once;

For the close night doth play the run-away,
And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast.

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.
Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily.
For she is wise, if I can judge of her;

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