|
Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO
|
ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO enter.
|
5 |
ANTONIO
In
sooth, I know not why I am so sad.
It
wearies me; you say it wearies you.
But
how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What
stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am
to learn.
And
such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
That
I have much ado to know myself.
|
ANTONIO
To be
honest, I don’t know why I’m so sad. I’m tired of it, and you say you’re
tired of it too. But I have no idea how I got so depressed. And if I can’t
figure out what’s making me depressed,
I must not understand myself very well.
|
10 |
SALARINO
Your
mind is tossing on the ocean,
There,
where your argosies with portly sail,
Like
signors and rich burghers on the flood—
Or,
as it were, the pageants of the sea—
Do
overpeer the petty traffickers
That
curtsy to them, do them reverence
As
they fly by them with their woven wings.
|
SALARINO
You’re
worried about your ships. Your mind is out there getting tossed around on the
ocean with them. But they’re fine.
They’re like huge parade floats on the sea. They’re so big they look down on
the smaller ships, which all have to bow and then get out of the way. Your
ships fly like birds past those little boats.
|
15 20 |
SOLANIO
Believe
me, sir, had I such venture forth,
The
better part of my affections would
Be
with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking
the grass to know where sits the wind,
Peering
in maps for ports and piers and roads.
And
every object that might make me fear
Misfortune
to my ventures out of doubt
Would
make me sad.
|
SOLANIO
Yes,
believe me, if I had such risky business ventures in other countries, I’d be
sad too. I’d worry about it every second. I’d constantly be tossing blades of
grass into the air to find out which way the wind was blowing. I’d be peering over
maps to figure out the best ports, piers, and waterways. Everything that made
me worry about my ships would make me sad.
|
25 30 35 40 |
SALARINO
My
wind cooling my broth
Would
blow me to an ague when I thought
What
harm a wind too great at sea might do.
I
should not see the sandy hourglass run,
But I
should think of shallows and of flats
And
see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand,
Vailing
her high top lower than her ribs
To
kiss her burial. Should I go to church
And
see the holy edifice of stone
And
not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,
Which,
touching but my gentle vessel’s side,
Would
scatter all her spices on the stream,
Enrobe
the roaring waters with my silks,
And,
in a word, but even now worth this,
And
now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
To
think on this, and shall I lack the thought
That
such a thing bechanced would make me sad?
But
tell not me. I know Antonio
Is
sad to think upon his merchandise.
|
SALARINO
I’d
get scared every time I blew on my soup to cool it, thinking of how a strong
wind could wipe out my ships. Every time I glanced at the sand in an
hourglass I’d imagine my ships wrecked on sandbars. I’d think of dangerous
rocks every time I went to church and saw the stones it was made of. If my
ship brushed up against rocks like that, its whole cargo of spices would be
dumped into the sea. All of its silk shipments would be sent flying into the
roaring waters. In one moment I’d go bankrupt. Who wouldn’t get sad thinking
about things like that? It’s obvious. Antonio is sad because he’s so worried about his cargo.
|
45 |
ANTONIO
Believe
me, no. I thank my fortune for it—
My
ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
Nor
to one place, nor is my whole estate
Upon
the fortune of this present year.
Therefore
my merchandise makes me not sad.
|
ANTONIO
No,
that’s not it, trust me. Thankfully my financial situation is healthy. I
don’t have all of my money invested in one ship, or one part of the world. If
I don’t do well this year, I’ll still be okay. So it’s not my business that’s
making me sad.
|
|
SOLANIO
Why
then, you are in love.
|
SOLANIO
Well
then, you must be in love.
|
|
ANTONIO
Fie,
fie!
|
ANTONIO
Oh,
give me a break.
|
50 |
SOLANIO
Not
in love neither? Then let us say you are sad
Because
you are not merry—and ’twere as easy
For
you to laugh and leap and say you are merry
Because
you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus,
Nature
hath framed strange fellows in her time.
|
SOLANIO
You’re
not in love either? Fine, let’s just say you’re sad because you’re not in a
good mood. You know, it’d be just as easy for you to laugh and dance around
and say you’re in a good mood. You could just say you’re not sad. Humans are
so different.
|
55 |
Some
that will evermore peep through their eyes
And
laugh like parrots at a bagpiper,
And
other of such vinegar aspect
That
they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile
Though
Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
|
Some
people will laugh at anything, and others are so grouchy they won’t even
crack a smile when they hear something
hysterically funny.
|
|||
|
Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO
|
BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO enter.
|
|||
|
Here
comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
Gratiano,
and Lorenzo. Fare ye well.
We
leave you now with better company.
|
Here
comes your cousin Bassanio. And Gratiano and Lorenzo too. Goodbye, then.
We’ll leave you to talk to them. They’re better company.
|
|||
60 |
SALARINO
I
would have stayed till I had made you merry
If
worthier friends had not prevented me.
|
SALARINO
I
would’ve stayed to cheer you up, if your nobler friends hadn’t shown up.
|
|||
|
ANTONIO
Your
worth is very dear in my regard.
I
take it your own business calls on you
And
you embrace th' occasion to depart.
|
ANTONIO
You’re
both very precious to me. But I understand. You need to leave to take care of
your own business.
|
|||
65 |
SALARINO
(to BASSANIO, LORENZO, GRATIANO)
Good
morrow, my good lords.
|
SALARINO
(to BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO) Good morning,
gentlemen.
|
|||
|
BASSANIO
(to SALARINO and SOLANIO)
Good
signors both, when shall we laugh? Say, when?
You
grow exceeding strange. Must it be so?
|
BASSANIO
(to SALARINO and SOLANIO) Hello, friends. When
are we going to have fun together again? Just name the time. We never see you
anymore. Does it have to be that way?
|
|||
70 |
SALARINO
We’ll
make our leisures to attend on yours.
|
SALARINO
Let
us know when you want to get together. We’re available.
|
|||
|
Exeunt SALARINO and SOLANIO
|
SALARINO and SOLANIO exit.
|
|||
|
LORENZO
My
Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
We
two will leave you. But at dinnertime
I
pray you have in mind where we must meet.
|
LORENZO
Bassanio,
we’ll say goodbye for now, since you’ve found Antonio. But don’t forget,
we’re meeting for dinner tonight.
|
|||
|
BASSANIO
I
will not fail you.
|
BASSANIO
Don’t
worry, I’ll be there.
|
|||
75
|
GRATIANO
You
look not well, Signor Antonio.
You
have too much respect upon the world.
They
lose it that do buy it with much care.
Believe
me, you are marvelously changed.
|
GRATIANO
You
don’t look well, Antonio. You’re taking things too seriously. People with too much invested
in the world always get hurt. I’m telling you, you don’t look
like yourself.
|
|||
80 |
ANTONIO
I
hold the world but as the world, Gratiano—
A
stage where every man must play a part,
And
mine a sad one.
|
ANTONIO
For
me the world is just the world, Gratiano—a stage where every person has a part to play.
I play a sad one.
|
|||
85 90 95 100 105 |
GRATIANO
Let
me play the fool.
With
mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come.
And
let my liver rather heat with wine
Than
my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why
should a man whose blood is warm within
Sit
like his grandsire cut in alabaster,
Sleep
when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By
being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio—
I
love thee, and ’tis my love that speaks—
There
are a sort of men whose visages
Do
cream and mantle like a standing pond,
And
do a willful stillness entertain
With
purpose to be dressed in an opinion
Of
wisdom, gravity, profound conceit,
As
who should say, “I am Sir Oracle,
And
when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!”
O my
Antonio, I do know of these
That
therefore only are reputed wise
For
saying nothing, when I am very sure
If
they should speak, would almost damn those ears
Which,
hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
I’ll tell
thee more of this another time.
But
fish not with this melancholy bait
For
this fool gudgeon, this opinion.—
Come,
good Lorenzo.—Fare ye well awhile.
I’ll
end my exhortation after dinner.
|
GRATIANO
Then
I’ll play the happy fool and get laugh lines on my face. I’d rather overload
my liver with wine than starve my heart by denying myself fun. Why should any
living man sit still like a statue? Why should he sleep when he’s awake? Why
should he get ulcers from being crabby all the time? I love you, and I’m telling
you this because I care about you, Antonio—there are men who always look
serious. Their faces never move or show any expression, like stagnant ponds
covered with scum. They’re silent and stern, and they think they’re wise and
deep, important and respectable. When they talk, they think
everybody else should keep quiet, and that even dogs should stop barking. I
know a lot of men like that, Antonio. The only reason they’re considered wise
is because they don’t say anything. I’m sure if they ever opened their
mouths, everyone would see
what fools they are. I’ll talk to you more about this some other time. In the
meantime, cheer up. Don’t go around looking so glum. That’s my opinion, but
what do I know? I’m a fool.—Let’s go, Lorenzo.—Goodbye for now. I’ll finish
my lecture after dinner.
|
|||
|
LORENZO
Well,
we will leave you then till dinnertime.
I
must be one of these same dumb wise men,
For
Gratiano never lets me speak.
|
LORENZO
All
right, we’ll see you at dinnertime. I must be one of these silent so-called wise men Gratiano’s talking about, because he never lets
me get a word in.
|
|||
110 |
GRATIANO
Well,
keep me company but two years more,
Thou
shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
|
GRATIANO
If
you hang around me for two more years, you’ll forget the sound of your own
voice. I won’t ever let you speak.
|
|||
|
ANTONIO
Farewell.
I’ll grow a talker for this gear.
|
ANTONIO
Goodbye.
After that lecture of yours, I’ll start talking a lot.
|
|||
|
GRATIANO
Thanks,
i' faith, for silence is only commendable
In a
neat’s tongue dried and a maid not vendible.
|
GRATIANO
Thank
you. The only tongues that should be silent are ox-tongues on a dinner plate
and those that belong to old maids.
|
|||
|
Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO
|
GRATIANO and LORENZO exit.
|
|||
115 |
ANTONIO
Is
that any thing now?
|
ANTONIO
Is he
right?
|
|||
|
BASSANIO
Gratiano
speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice.
His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff—you shall
seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them they are not worth the
search.
|
BASSANIO
Gratiano
talks more nonsense than any other man in Venice.
His point is always like a needle in a haystack—you look for it all day, and
when you find it you realize it wasn’t
worth the trouble.
|
|||
|
ANTONIO
Well,
tell me now what lady is the same
To
whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
That
you today promised to tell me of?
|
ANTONIO
So,
who’s this girl, the one you said you were going to take a special trip for? You
promised to tell me.
|
|||
125 |
BASSANIO
'Tis
not unknown to you, Antonio,
How
much I have disabled mine estate,
By
something showing a more swelling port
Than
my faint means would grant continuance.
Nor
do I now make moan to be abridged
From
such a noble rate. But my chief care
|
BASSANIO
Antonio,
you know how bad my finances have been
lately. I’ve been living way beyond my means.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining
about having to cut back.
|
|||
130
135 |
Is to
come fairly off from the great debts
Wherein
my time something too prodigal
Hath
left me gaged. To you, Antonio,
I owe
the most in money and in love,
And
from your love I have a warranty
To
unburden all my plots and purposes
How
to get clear of all the debts I owe.
|
I
just want to be honorable and pay off the big
debts that piled up when I was living the
high life. I’m in debt to many people,
and I owe most to you, Antonio—both money and gratitude. And because you care
about me, I know you’ll let me tell you my plan to clear all my debts.
|
|||
140 |
ANTONIO
I
pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it.
And
if it stand, as you yourself still do,
Within
the eye of honor, be assured
My
purse, my person, my extremest means
Lie
all unlocked to your occasions.
|
ANTONIO
Please
let me know your plan, Bassanio. As long as
it’s honorable, you can be sure that I’ll let you use all my money and do everything I can to
help you.
|
|||
145 150 |
BASSANIO
In my
school days, when I had lost one shaft,
I
shot his fellow of the selfsame flight
The
selfsame way with more advisèd watch
To
find the other forth—and by adventuring both,
I oft
found both. I urge this childhood proof
Because
what follows is pure innocence.
I owe
you much, and, like a willful youth,
That
which I owe is lost. But if you please
To
shoot another arrow that self way
Which
you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
As I
will watch the aim, or to find both
Or
bring your latter hazard back again
And
thankfully rest debtor for the first.
|
BASSANIO
Back
when I was a schoolboy, if I lost an arrow I would try to find it by shooting
another arrow in the same direction, watching the second arrow more carefully
than I had the first. By risking the second arrow, I’d often get both of them
back. I’m telling you this story for a reason. I owe you a
lot, and like a spoiled kid I’ve lost
what I owe you. But if you’d be willing to shoot another arrow the same
way you shot the first, I’ll watch your arrow
more carefully this time. Either we’ll get back
all the money I owe you, or else we’ll
get back what you lend me this time, and I’ll just owe you what I already owe you.
|
|||
155 160 |
ANTONIO
You
know me well, and herein spend but time
To
wind about my love with circumstance.
And
out of doubt you do me now more wrong
In
making question of my uttermost
Than
if you had made waste of all I have.
Then
do but say to me what I should do
That
in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I
am pressed unto it. Therefore speak.
|
ANTONIO
You
know me better than that. You’re wasting your breath. All of this talk means
you have doubts about
my friendship. That’s worse than if you bankrupted me. Just tell me what to
do, and I’ll do it. Tell me.
|
|||
165 170 175 |
BASSANIO
In Belmont
is a lady richly left,
And
she is fair and—fairer than that word—
Of
wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes
I did
receive fair speechless messages.
Her
name is Portia, nothing undervalued
To
Cato’s daughter, Brutus' Portia.
Nor
is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
For
the four winds blow in from every coast
Renownèd
suitors, and her sunny locks
Hang
on her temples like a golden fleece,
Which
makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand,
And
many Jasons come in quest of her.
O my
Antonio, had I but the means
To
hold a rival place with one of them,
I
have a mind presages me such thrift
That
I should questionless be fortunate!
|
BASSANIO
There’s
a girl in Belmont who’s inherited a huge amount of money, and she’s beautiful
and—even better—she’s a good person. I think she likes me. Sometimes the
expression on her face tells me she likes me. Her name is Portia. She’s as
rich as that famous Roman heroine Portia, the daughter of Cato
and wife of Brutus. Her wealth is world-famous. Famous and important men have
come in from all over the world to try to marry her. The hair that hangs down
on her forehead is like gold, calling every adventurer to Belmont
like a gold rush. Antonio, if I only
had enough money to hold my own against those suitors, I know I could win
her!
|
|||
180 185 |
ANTONIO
Thou
know’st that all my fortunes are at sea.
Neither
have I money nor commodity
To
raise a present sum. Therefore go forth,
Try
what my credit can in Venice do—
That
shall be racked even to the uttermost
To
furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.
Go
presently inquire, and so will I,
Where
money is, and I no question make
To
have it of my trust or for my sake.
|
ANTONIO
You
know right now all my money’s tied up in that cargo that’s still at sea. I
can’t give you the cash you need because I don’t have it. But go ahead and charge things to me on credit, as much
credit as I can get in Venice. I’ll use all my lines of credit to help you get to Belmont,
to Portia. Go see who will lend money, and I’ll do the same. I’m sure I can
get something either as a business loan, or as a personal favor.
|
|||
|
Exeunt
|
They exit.
|
|||
|
NERISSA
You
would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your
good fortunes are. And yet for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit
with too much as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness,
therefore, to be seated in the mean. Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs,
but competency lives longer.
|
NERISSA
You’d
be tired, madam, if you had bad luck rather than wealth and good luck. But as far as I
can tell, people with too much suffer as much as people with nothing. The
best way to be happy is to be in between. When you have too much you get old
sooner, but having just enough helps you live longer.
|
|||
|
PORTIA
Good
sentences, and well pronounced.
|
PORTIA
Good
point, and well said.
|
|||
10 |
NERISSA
They
would be better if well followed.
|
NERISSA
It
would be better if you actually applied it to your life.
|
|||
|
PORTIA
If to
do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches
and poor men’s cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows
his own instructions. I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done
than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise
laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree. Such a hare is
madness the youth—to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But
this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband. O me, the word
“choose!” I may neither choose whom I would nor refuse whom I dislike—so is
the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not
hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one nor refuse none?
|
PORTIA
You
think it’s that easy? If doing good deeds were as easy as knowing how to do
them, then everyone would be better off. Small chapels would be big churches,
and poor men’s cottages would be princes' palaces. It takes a good priest to
practice what he preaches. For me, it’s easier to lecture twenty people on
how to be good than to be the one person out of twenty who actually does good
things. The brain can tell the heart what to do, but what does it matter? Cold rules don’t matter when you’ve got a
hot temper. Young people are like frisky young rabbits, and good advice is
like a crippled old man trying to catch them. But thinking like this won’t
help me choose a husband. Oh, the word
“choose” is strange! I can’t choose who I like, or refuse who I dislike. I’m a
living daughter still controlled by the wishes of her dead father. Isn’t it a
pain that I can’t choose or refuse anyone, Nerissa?
|
|||
25
|
NERISSA
Your
father was ever virtuous, and holy men at their death have good inspirations.
Therefore the lottery that he hath devised in these three chests of gold,
silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you, will no doubt
never be chosen by any rightly but one who shall rightly love. But what
warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that
are already come?
|
NERISSA
Your
father was an extremely moral man, and religious people get odd ideas on
their deathbeds. Your father’s idea was to have a game with three boxes. The
suitor who can figure out whether to pick the gold, silver, or lead box will
solve your father’s riddle—and that suitor’s the man for you. No one will
ever choose the right box who doesn’t deserve your love. But tell me. Do you
like any of the princely suitors who’ve come?
|
|||
|
PORTIA
I
pray thee, overname them. And as thou namest them, I will describe them. And
according to my description, level at my affection.
|
PORTIA
Run
through the list. As you name them I’ll describe them for you, and from my
descriptions you can guess how I feel
toward them.
|
|||
|
NERISSA
First,
there is the Neapolitan prince.
|
NERISSA
Well,
first there was the prince from Naples.
|
|||
|
PORTIA
Ay,
that’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse, and he makes
it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe him himself.
I am much afeard my lady his mother played false with a smith.
|
PORTIA
Ah,
yes, that stallion. All he talks about is his horse. He thinks it’s a great
credit to his character that he can shoe a horse all by himself. I’m afraid
his mother may have had an affair with a blacksmith.
|
|||
|
NERISSA
Then
there is the County Palatine.
|
NERISSA
Then
there’s the Count Palatine.
|
|||
|
PORTIA
He
doth nothing but frown, as who should say, “An you will not have me, choose.”
He hears merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the weeping
philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his
youth. I had rather be married to a death’s-head with a bone in his mouth
than to either of these. God defend me from these two!
|
PORTIA
He
does nothing but frown, as if he wants to say, “If you don’t want me, I don’t
care.” He doesn’t even smile when he hears funny stories. If he’s so sad and
solemn when he’s young, I can only imagine how much he’ll cry as an old man.
No, I’d rather be married to a skull with
a bone in its mouth than to either of those men. God protect me from these
two!
|
|||
|
NERISSA
How
say you by the French lord, Monsieur le Bon?
|
NERISSA
What
did you think about that French lord, Monsieur
le Bon?
|
|||
50
|
PORTIA
God
made him and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin
to be a mocker, but he!—why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan’s, a
better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palatine. He is every man in no
man. If a throstle sing, he falls straight a- capering. He will fence with
his own shadow. If I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands. If he
would despise me I would forgive him, for if he love me to madness I shall
never requite him.
|
PORTIA
We
might as well call him a man, since God created him. No, I know it’s bad to
make fun of people, but still! His horse is better than the Neapolitan’s and
he frowns more than the Count Palatine. He was trying to outdo everyone so much that you couldn’t
tell who he was. He started dancing every time a bird sang, and he was so
eager to show off his fencing that he’d fight with his own shadow. If I
married him, I might as well as marry twenty husbands, because he’s like
twenty men all rolled into one! I’d understand it if he hated me, since even
if he loved me desperately, I’d never be able to love him back.
|
|||
60 |
NERISSA
What
say you then to Falconbridge, the young baron of
England?
|
NERISSA
What
about Falconbridge, that young English baron?
|
|||
|
PORTIA
You
know I say nothing to him, for he understands not me, nor I him. He hath
neither Latin, French, nor Italian, and you will come into the court and
swear that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man’s
picture, but alas, who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is suited!
I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behavior everywhere.
|
PORTIA
I
have no opinion about him. We don’t talk because we don’t understand each
other. He doesn’t speak Latin, French, or Italian, and you know how little English
I speak. He’s great-looking, but how can you talk to someone who doesn’t
speak your language? He was dressed so oddly too! I think he got his jacket in Italy, his tights in France, his hat in Germany, and his behavior everywhere.
|
|||
|
NERISSA
What think
you of the Scottish lord, his neighbor?
|
NERISSA
What
do you think of his neighbor, the Scottish lord?
|
|||
70 |
PORTIA
That
he hath a neighborly charity in him, for he borrowed a box of the ear of the
Englishman and swore he would pay him again when he was able. I think the
Frenchman became his surety and sealed under for another.
|
PORTIA
I
think he’s very forgiving, since he let the Englishman slap him on the ear without
hitting him back. Rather than defend himself, he just threatened to pay the
Englishman back later. Then the Frenchman promised to help the Scot pay the
Englishman back, and added a slap of his own.
|
|||
|
PORTIA
Very
vilely in the morning, when he is sober, and most vilely in the afternoon,
when he is drunk. When he is best he is a little worse than a man, and when
he is worst he is little better than a beast. And the worst fall that ever
fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him.
|
PORTIA
He’s
pretty awful in the morning when he’s sobering up, and even worse in the
afternoon when he’s drunk. At his best
he’s a little less than a man, and at
his worst he’s little more than an animal. If we got married and he
tragically met his demise, I’m sure I could find a way to go on without him.
|
|||
|
NERISSA
If he
should offer to choose and choose the right casket, you should refuse to
perform your father’s will if you should refuse to accept him.
|
NERISSA
If he
offers to play the game and chooses the right box, but then you reject him,
you’ll be disobeying your father’s
last wishes.
|
|||
|
PORTIA
Therefore,
for fear of the worst, I pray thee, set a deep glass of rhenish wine on the
contrary casket, for if the devil be within and that temptation without, I
know he will choose it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I’ll be married to
a sponge.
|
PORTIA
I
know. So please put a nice big glass of white wine on the wrong box. I know
he’ll get tempted and choose that one. I’ll do anything rather than marry a
drunk, Nerissa.
|
|||
|
NERISSA
You
need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords. They have acquainted me
with their determinations, which is indeed to return to their home and to
trouble you with no more suit unless you may be won by some other sort than
your father’s imposition depending on the caskets.
|
NERISSA
You
don’t have to worry about any of these lords, my lady. They’ve all told me
what they want, which is to go back home and give up on you—unless there was
some other way to win you than your father’s pick-the-box test.
|
|||
95 |
PORTIA
If I
live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste as Diana unless I be
obtained by the manner of my father’s will. I am glad this parcel of wooers
are so reasonable, for there is not one among them but I dote on his very
absence. And I pray God grant them a fair departure.
|
PORTIA
I’ll
die an old maid unless I can be won according to the rules set by my father’s
will. I’m glad these suitors are
sensible enough to stay away. The only thing I like about them is that
they’re not there. I wish them all safe trips home.
|
|||
100 |
NERISSA
Do
you not remember, lady, in your father’s time a Venetian, a scholar and a
soldier, that came hither in company of the Marquess of Montferrat?
|
NERISSA
Do
you remember a Venetian scholar and soldier who accompanied the marquess of Montferrat here
once when your father was still alive?
|
|||
|
NERISSA
True,
madam. He, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best
deserving a fair lady.
|
NERISSA
Yes,
madam, that’s the one. He deserves a beautiful wife more than all the other
men I’ve ever seen.
|
||
|
PORTIA
I
remember him well, and I remember him worthy of thy praise.
|
PORTIA
I
remember him well, and my memory tells me that he deserves your praise.
|
||
|
Enter a SERVINGMAN
|
A SERVANT enters.
|
||
|
How
now, what news?
|
Hello,
do you have any news?
|
||
|
SERVINGMAN
The
four strangers seek for you, madam, to take their leave. And there is a
forerunner come from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings word the
prince his master will be here tonight.
|
SERVANT
The
four suitors are looking for you so they can say goodbye, madam. And there’s
a messenger representing a fifth one, the prince of Morocco, who says the prince will be here tonight.
|
||
|
PORTIA
If I
could bid the fifth welcome with so good a heart as I can bid the other four
farewell, I should be glad of his approach. If he have the condition of a saint
and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me.
Come, Nerissa.—(to SERVANT) Sirrah, go before. Whiles we shut the gates upon one wooer
Another knocks at the door.
|
PORTIA
If I
could say hello to the fifth one as happily as I’ll say
goodbye to the first four, I’d be very happy he’s coming. If he’s as good as
a saint but is black like a devil, I’d rather he hear my confession than
marry me. Let’s go, Nerissa.—(to
the SERVANT) Go ahead. As soon as we shut the door on one suitor, another
one starts knocking.
|
||
|
BASSANIO
Ay,
sir, for three months.
|
BASSANIO
Yes,
for three months.
|
||
|
SHYLOCK
For
three months, well.
|
SHYLOCK
For
three months, hmmm.
|
||
|
BASSANIO
For
the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.
|
BASSANIO
As I
said before, Antonio will guarantee the loan. If I
default, he’ll pay you.
|
||
5 |
SHYLOCK
Antonio
shall become bound, well.
|
SHYLOCK
Antonio
will guarantee it, hmmm.
|
||
|
BASSANIO
May
you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your answer?
|
BASSANIO
Can
you help me? What’s your answer?
|
||
|
SHYLOCK
Three
thousand ducats for three months, and Antonio bound.
|
SHYLOCK
Three
thousand ducats for three months, and Antonio will guarantee it.
|
||
10 |
BASSANIO
Your
answer to that?
|
BASSANIO
Your
answer?
|
||
|
SHYLOCK
Antonio
is a good man.
|
SHYLOCK
Antonio’s
a good man.
|
||
|
BASSANIO
Have
you heard any imputation to the contrary?
|
BASSANIO
Have
you heard anything to the contrary?
|
||
|
SHYLOCK
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 squandered abroad.
But ships are but boards, sailors but men. There be land rats and water rats,
water thieves and land thieves—I mean pirates—and then there is the peril of
waters, winds, and rocks. The man is notwithstanding sufficient
BASSANIO
Be
assured you may
SHYLOCK
I
will be assured I may, and that I may be assured,
I
will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio?
BASSANIO
If it
please you to dine with us.
SHYLOCK
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
|
SHYLOCK
What?
No, no, no, no. What I meant in saying
he’s a good man is that he has
enough money to guarantee the loan. But his investments are uncertain right
now. He has one ship bound for Tripoli, another heading for the Indies.
What’s more, people at the
Rialto tell me he has a third ship in Mexico, and a fourth in
England, as well as other business ventures throughout the world. But
ships are just fragile boards, and sailors are just men. There are rats and thieves and pirates—not to mention
storms, winds, and rocks. Anything could happen. But in spite of all this, the man is still
wealthy enough. Three thousand ducats—I think I can let him
guarantee your loan.
BASSANIO
I assure you he can.
SHYLOCK
I will be sure he can, before I make the loan. And I’ll think of a
way to be sure. Can I speak with Antonio?
BASSANIO
If you like, you can dine with us.
SHYLOCK
Oh
yes- to smell pork? I don’t think so!
Your prophet Jesus sent the
devil into a herd of pigs. I’m not going to eat that. I’ll buy with you, sell
with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so on, but I
won’t eat with you, drink with you, or pray with you. Any news on the Rialto?
Who’s that?
ANTONIO ENTERS
|
||
|
BASSANIO
This
is Signor Antonio.
|
BASSANIO
This
is Signor Antonio.
|
||
35 40 |
SHYLOCK
(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,
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,
|
SHYLOCK
(to
himself) He looks just like a guy who’s robbed me but now comes to beg
me for a favor! I hate him because he’s a Christian. But more than that, I
hate him because he stupidly lends money without interest, which lowers the interest rates
here in Venice. If I can just get the upper hand of him once, I’ll satisfy my old grudge against him. He
hates Jews. Even at the Rialto he’s always complaining about me and my negotiating and my
hard-earned profits, which he calls
“interest.”
|
||
45 |
BASSANIO
Shylock,
do you hear?
|
BASSANIO
Shylock,
are you listening?
|
||
50 |
SHYLOCK
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?
(to ANTONIO)
Rest
you fair, good signor.
Your
worship was the last man in our mouths.
|
SHYLOCK
I’m
thinking about how much cash I have on hand. If
I remember correctly, I can’t raise the entire three thousand ducats
immediately. But so what? Tubal, a wealthy Jew I know, will supply me with
the cash. But wait a minute! How many months do you
want? (toANTONIO) Oh, hello, how are you, signor? We were just talking about you.
|
||
55 60 |
ANTONIO
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.
(to BASSANIO)
Is he
yet possessed
How
much ye would?
|
ANTONIO
Shylock,
although I never lend or borrow with interest,
I’m willing to break that habit to help a friend in need.(to BASSANIO) Does he know how much you need?
|
||
|
SHYLOCK
Ay,
ay, three thousand ducats.
|
SHYLOCK
Oh
yes, three thousand ducats.
|
||
|
ANTONIO
And
for three months.
|
ANTONIO
For
three months.
|
||
65 |
SHYLOCK
I had
forgot—three months.
(to BASSANIO)
You
told me so.
(to ANTONIO)
Well
then, your bond, and let me see—But hear you,
Me thought
you said you neither lend nor borrow
Upon
advantage.
ANTONIO
I do never use it.
|
SHYLOCK
Yes,
I forgot—three months. (to BASSANIO) You told me that. (to ANTONIO) Now then, about your guarantee. Let me see—but listen,
Antonio, I thought you said you
don’t lend or borrow with interest.
ANTONIO
That’s right. That’s not how I do business.
|
||
70 |
SHYLOCK
When
Jacob grazed his uncle Laban’s sheep—
This
Jacob from our holy Abram was,
As
his wise mother wrought in his behalf,
The
third possessor, ay, he was the third—
|
SHYLOCK
When
Jacob took care of his uncle Laban’s sheep—Jacob was the heir to his
grandfather Abraham’s birthright, because his mother cleverly arranged for her husband Isaac to
make Jacob his heir—
|
||
|
ANTONIO
And
what of him? Did he take interest?
|
ANTONIO
What’s
your point? Did he charge interest?
|
||
75 80 85 |
SHYLOCK
No,
not take interest—not as you would say
Directly
interest. Mark what Jacob did:
When
Laban and himself were compromised
That
all the eanlings which were streaked and pied
Should
fall as Jacob’s hire, the ewes, being rank,
In
the end of autumn turnèd to the rams.
And
when the work of generation was
Between
these woolly breeders in the act,
The
skillful shepherd peeled 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
parti-colored lambs—and those were Jacob’s.
This
was a way to thrive, and he was blessed.
And
thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.
|
SHYLOCK
No,
he didn’t
charge interest—not in your sense of the word. But listen to what Jacob did.
When he and Laban agreed that all the spotted lambs
would be Jacob’s pay, it was the end of autumn, when the sheep were starting
to mate. Because newborns look like whatever their mother sees during mating,
he stuck some spotted branches into the ground right in front of the sheep,
who saw them while they mated. The mothers later gave birth to spotted lambs,
all of which went to Jacob. That was his way of expanding his business, and
it worked. My point is that profit is a blessing, as long as you don’t steal
to get it.
|
||
90 |
ANTONIO
This
was a venture, sir, that Jacob served for—
A
thing not in his power to bring to pass
But
swayed and fashioned by the hand of heaven.
Was
this inserted to make interest good?
Or is
your gold and silver ewes and rams?
|
ANTONIO
That
business venture you’re referring to happened because God made it happen like
that. Jacob didn’t have any control over what happened. Are you saying this
story proves that charging interest makes sense? That your interest payments are like Jacob’s sheep?
|
||
95 |
SHYLOCK
I
cannot tell: I make it breed as fast.
But
note me, signor—
|
SHYLOCK
I can
hardly tell the difference; I make my money multiply as fast as those sheep.
But listen to me, signor—
|
||
100 |
ANTONIO
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.
Oh,
what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
|
ANTONIO
Watch
out, Bassanio. The devil can quote Scripture for his own use. An evil soul
using a holy story is like
a criminal who smiles at you. He looks like
a good apple but he’s rotten at the core. Oh, liars can look so honest!
|
||
|
SHYLOCK
Three
thousand ducats—’tis a good round sum.
Three
months from twelve, then. Let me see. The rate—
|
SHYLOCK
Three
thousand ducats. That’s a nice even sum. Three months from twelve months of
the year.
Let me see. The interest rate will be—
|
||
|
ANTONIO
Well,
Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?
|
ANTONIO
Well,
Shylock? Are you going to loan us the money?
|
||
105 110 115 120 |
SHYLOCK
Signor
Antonio, many a time and oft
In
the Rialto you have rated me
About
my moneys 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, cutthroat dog,
And
spet 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 moneys.” You say so!—
You,
that did void your rheum upon my beard
And
foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over
your threshold! Moneys 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:
|
SHYLOCK
Signor
Antonio, you’ve often insulted my money and my business practices in the Rialto.
I have always
just shrugged and put up with it because
Jews are good at suffering. You called me a heathen, a dirty dog, and you
spit on my Jewish clothes. And all because I use my own money to make a
profit. And now it looks like you need my help. All right then. You come to
me saying, “Shylock, we need money.” You say that!—even though you spat on my
beard and kicked me like you’d kick a stray mutt out your front door. And now
you’re asking for money. What can I tell you? Shouldn’t I say, “Does a dog
have money?
Is it possible for a mutt to lend three
thousand ducats?” Or should I bend down low, and in a
humble
and submissive voice say:
|
||
125 |
“Fair
sir, you spet on me on Wednesday last;
You
spurned me such a day; another time
You
called me ’dog'—and for these courtesies
I’ll
lend you thus much moneys?”
|
“Sir,
last Wednesday you spit on me. You insulted me on this day, and another time you called
me a dog. And out of gratitude for
these favors, I’ll be happy to lend
you the money?”
|
||
130 135 |
ANTONIO
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.
|
ANTONIO
I’ll
probably call you those names again and spit on you, and reject you again
too. If you’re going to lend us this money, don’t lend it to us as if we were
your friends. When did friends charge interest? Instead, lend it to me as
your enemy. If your enemy goes bankrupt, it’s easier for you to take your
penalty from him.
|
||
140 |
SHYLOCK
Why,
look you how you storm!
I
would be friends with you and have your love,
Forget
the shames that you have stained me with,
Supply
your present wants and take no doit
Of
usance for my moneys—and you’ll not hear me!
This
is kind I offer.
|
SHYLOCK
Look
at you getting all riled up! I want to be friends with you, and forget all
the times you’ve embarrassed and humiliated me. I want to give you what you
need, and not charge a penny of interest—but you won’t listen to me! I’m
making a kind offer—zero percent financing.
|
||
|
BASSANIO
This
were kindness.
|
BASSANIO
That
really would be kind.
|
||
145 |
SHYLOCK
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
Expressed
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.
|
SHYLOCK
I’ll
show you how kind I am. Come with me to a
notary and we’ll make it
official. And let’s add a little clause just for a joke. If you don’t repay
me on the day we agree on, in the
place we name, for the sum of money
fixed in our contract, your penalty will be a pound of your pretty flesh, to
be cut off and taken out of whatever part of your body I like.
|
||
150 |
ANTONIO
Content,
in faith. I’ll seal to such a bond,
And
say there is much kindness in the Jew.
|
ANTONIO
It’s
a deal. I’ll agree to those terms and even say that Jews are nice.
|
||
|
BASSANIO
You
shall not seal to such a bond for me!
I’ll
rather dwell in my necessity.
|
BASSANIO
No,
you can’t sign a contract like that for me! I’d rather go without the money.
|
||
155 |
ANTONIO
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.
|
ANTONIO
Don’t
worry about it, man, I won’t have to pay any penalty. In two months—a month
before this loan is due—I expect to earn more than three times that much from
my investments.
|
||
160 165 |
SHYLOCK
O
Father Abram, 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, 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 favor I extend this friendship.
If he
will take it, so. If not, adieu.
And
for my love I pray you wrong me not.
|
SHYLOCK
Oh
father Abraham, what kind of people are these Christians? Their own meanness
teaches them to suspect other people!—Please tell me this. If he fails to
repay me by the deadline, what would I get out of such a penalty? A pound of
human flesh taken isn’t even as valuable as a pound of mutton or beef. I’m
just offering this as a favor to a friend. If he agrees, great. If not,
goodbye. And I hope you won’t think badly of me.
|
||
|
ANTONIO
Yes,
Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
|
ANTONIO
Yes,
Shylock, I’ll sign the contract and agree to its terms.
|
||
170 175 |
SHYLOCK
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.
|
SHYLOCK
Then
meet me right away at the notary’s. Give him the instructions for our amusing little
contract, and I’ll go get the money for you right away. I need to check in at
home first, because one of my careless servants is in charge right now. I’ll see
you soon.
|
||
|
ANTONIO
Hie
thee, gentle Jew.
|
ANTONIO
Hurry
up, my Jewish friend.
|
||
|
Exit SHYLOCK
|
SHYLOCK exits.
|
||
|
The
Hebrew will turn Christian. He grows kind.
|
He’s
so kind you’d think the Jew is turning Christian.
|
||
180 |
ANTONIO
Come
on. In this there can be no dismay.
My ships
come home a month before the day.
|
ANTONIO
Come
on, there’s no reason to worry. My ships will come home a month before the
money is due.
|
||
|
Exeunt
|
They exit.
|
||
|
ORIGINAL TEXT |
MOD TERNEXT |
|
|
Flourish cornets Enter PORTIA with the Prince of MOROCCO, and both their
trains
|
Trumpets play. PORTIA enters with the prince ofMOROCCO and both their entourages.
|
|
|
PORTIA
(to servant) Go draw aside the curtains and discover
The several caskets
to this noble prince.—
|
PORTIA
(to servant) Go open the curtains and show the different boxes to the
prince.
|
|
|
A curtain is drawn
showing a gold, silver, and lead casket
|
A curtain is drawn
revealing showing three caskets: one gold, one silver, and one lead.
|
|
|
(to MOROCCO) Now make your choice.
|
(to MOROCCO) Now make your choice.
|
|
5 10 |
MOROCCO
The first, of gold,
who this inscription bears:
“Who chooseth me
shall gain what many men desire.”
The second, silver,
which this promise carries:
“Who chooseth me
shall get as much as he deserves.”
This third, dull
lead, with warning all as blunt:
“Who chooseth me must
give and hazard all he hath.”
How shall I know if I
do choose the right?
|
MOROCCO
The first one, the
gold one, has an inscription that says, “He who chooses me will get what many
men want.” The second one, the silver one, says, “He who chooses me will get
what he deserves.” And this third one is made of dull lead. It has a blunt
warning that says, “He who chooses me must give and risk all he has.” How
will I know if I chose the right one?
|
|
|
PORTIA
The one of them
contains my picture, Prince.
If you choose that,
then I am yours withal.
|
PORTIA
One of them contains
my picture. If you choose that one, I’m yours, along with the picture.
|
|
15 20 |
MOROCCO
Some god direct my
judgment! Let me see.
I will survey th'
inscriptions back again.
What says this leaden
casket?
“Who chooseth me must
give and hazard all he hath.”
Must give—for what?
For lead? Hazard for lead?
This casket
threatens. Men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair
advantages.
A golden mind stoops
not to shows of dross.
I’ll then nor give
nor hazard aught for lead.
What says the silver
with her virgin hue?
|
MOROCCO
I wish some god could
help me choose! Let me see. I’ll look over the inscriptions again. What does
the lead box say? “He who chooses me must give and risk all he has.” Must
give everything—for what? For lead? Risk everything for lead? This box is too
threatening. Men who risk everything hope to make profits. A golden mind
doesn’t bend down to choose something worthless. So I won’t give or risk
anything for lead. What does the silver one say?
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
25 30 35 40 45 50 55 |
“Who chooseth me
shall get as much as he deserves.”
“As much as he
deserves!”—pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value
with an even hand.
If thou beest rated
by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve
enough, and yet enough
May not extend so far
as to the lady,
And yet to be afeard
of my deserving
Were but a weak
disabling of myself.
As much as I deserve!
Why, that’s the lady.
I do in birth deserve
her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in
qualities of breeding.
But more than these,
in love I do deserve.
What if I strayed no
further, but chose here?
Let’s see once more
this saying graved in gold,
“Who chooseth me
shall gain what many men desire.”
Why, that’s the lady.
All the world desires her.
From the four corners
of the earth they come
To kiss this shrine,
this mortal breathing saint.
The Hyrcanian deserts
and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia are as thoroughfares
now
For princes to come
view fair Portia.
The watery kingdom,
whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of
heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign
spirits, but they come
As o'er a brook to
see fair Portia.
One of these three
contains her heavenly picture.
Is ’t like that lead
contains her? 'Twere damnation
To think so base a
thought. It were too gross
To rib her cerecloth
in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think in
silver she’s immured,
Being ten times
undervalued to tried gold?
O sinful thought!
Never so rich a gem
Was set in worse than
gold. They have in England
A coin that bears the
figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but
that’s insculped upon.
But here an angel in
a golden bed
|
“He who chooses me
will get as much as he deserves.” As much as he deserves—wait a minute there,
Morocco, and consider your
own value with a level head. If your reputation is trustworthy, you deserve a
lot—though maybe not enough to include this lady. But fearing I don’t deserve
her is a way of underestimating myself. As much as I deserve—I deserve
Portia! By birth I deserve her. In terms of wealth, talents, and upbringing,
and especially love, I deserve her. What if I went no further and chose this
one? But let’s see once more what the gold one says: “He who chooses me will
get what many men want.” That’s Portia! The whole world wants her. They come
from the four corners of the earth to kiss this shrine and see this living,
breathing saint. Princes travel across deserts and the vast wilderness of Arabia to come see the
beautiful Portia. The wide ocean doesn’t prevent them from coming to see
her—they travel across it as if it were a little stream. One of these three
boxes contains her lovely picture. Could the lead one contain it? No, it’d be
a sin to think such a low thought. Lead’s too crass to hold her. Is she
enclosed in silver, which is ten times less valuable than gold? Oh, what a
sinful thought! Nobody ever set a gem like her in a worse setting than gold.
They have a coin in England stamped with the
figure of an angel, but that’s just engraved on the surface.
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
60
|
Lies all
within.—Deliver me the key.
Here do I choose, and
thrive I as I may!
|
Here an angel’s lying
in a golden bed.—Give me the key. I will choose this one and try my chances.
|
|
|
PORTIA
(giving MOROCCO a key)
There, take it,
Prince. And if my form lie there
Then I am yours.
|
PORTIA
(she hands him a key) There, take it, prince. And if my
picture’s in there, then I’m yours.
|
|
|
MOROCCO opens the golden casket
|
MOROCCO opens the gold casket.
|
|
65 70 75 80 |
MOROCCO
O hell, what have we
here?
A carrion death,
within whose empty eye
There is a written
scroll. I’ll read the writing.
(reads)
“All that glisters is
not gold—
Often have you heard
that told.
Many a man his life
hath sold
But my outside to
behold.
Gilded tombs do worms
enfold.
Had you been as wise
as bold,
Young in limbs, in
judgment old,
Your answer had not
been inscrolled.
Fare you well. Your
suit is cold—
Cold, indeed, and
labor lost.”
Then, farewell, heat,
and welcome, frost!
Portia, adieu. I have
too grieved a heart
To take a tedious
leave. Thus losers part.
|
MOROCCO
Damn it! What’s this?
It’s a skull with a scroll in its empty eye socket. I’ll read it aloud.
(he reads)
“All that glitters is
not gold—
You’ve often heard
that said.
Many men have sold
their souls
Just to view my shiny
surface.
But gilded tombs
contain worms.
If you’d been as wise
as you were bold,
With an old man’s
mature judgment,
You wouldn’t have had
to read this scroll.
So goodbye—you lost
your chance.”
Lost my chance
indeed! So goodbye hope, and hello despair. Portia, goodbye to you. My
heart’s too sad for long goodbyes. Losers always leave quickly.
|
|
|
Exit MOROCCO with his train
|
MOROCCO exits with his entourage.
|
|
|
PORTIA
A gentle
riddance.—Draw the curtains, go.—
Let all of his
complexion choose me so.
|
PORTIA
Good riddance!—Close
the curtains and leave.—I hope everyone who looks like him will make the same
choice.
|
|
|
Exeunt
|
They exit.
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
|
Enter SALARINO and SOLANIO
|
SALARINO and SOLANIO enter
|
|
|
SALARINO
Why, man, I saw
Bassanio under sail.
With him is Gratiano
gone along.
And in their ship I
am sure Lorenzo is not.
|
SALARINO
I saw Bassanio sail away, and Gratiano went with him. I’m sure
Lorenzo isn’t on their ship.
|
|
5 |
SOLANIO
The villain Jew with
outcries raised the Duke,
Who went with him to
search Bassanio’s ship.
|
SOLANIO
That wicked Jew got the duke to listen to his complaints. The
duke went with him to search Bassanio’s ship.
|
|
10 |
SALARINO
He came too late. The
ship was under sail.
But there the Duke
was given to understand
That in a gondola
were seen together
Lorenzo and his
amorous Jessica.
Besides, Antonio
certified the Duke
They were not with
Bassanio in his ship.
|
SALARINO
He got there too late. The ship was already sailing. But once
he got there, the duke learned that Lorenzo and his lover Jessica were
together in a gondola. In any case, Antonio assured the duke they weren’t
with Bassanio on his ship.
|
|
15 20 |
SOLANIO
I never heard a
passion so confused,
So strange,
outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog Jew did
utter in the streets.
“My daughter! O my
ducats! O my daughter,
Fled with a
Christian! O my Christian ducats!
Justice, the law, my
ducats, and my daughter!
A sealèd bag, two
sealèd bags of ducats,
Of double ducats,
stol'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels—two
stones, two rich and precious stones—
Stol'n by my
daughter! Justice, find the girl!
She hath the stones
upon her, and the ducats.”
|
SOLANIO
I’ve never heard such confused emotions as what that Jew dog
was shouting in the streets. “My daughter, oh my ducats, oh my daughter! Ran
off with a Christian! Oh my Christian ducats! Justice, the law, my ducats,
and my daughter, a sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, of double ducats,
stolen from me by my daughter, and jewels—two stones, two rich and precious
stones—stolen by my daughter! Justice, find the girl! She has the stones on
her, and the ducats.”
|
|
|
SALARINO
Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying, “His stones,
his daughter, and his ducats!”
|
SALARINO
I know, all the boys in Venice are following him, yelling, “His stones, his daughter, and
his ducats!”
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
25 |
SOLANIO
Let good Antonio look
he keep his day,
Or he shall pay for
this.
|
SOLANIO
I hope Antonio repays his loan on time, or he’ll suffer for
this.
|
|
30 |
SALARINO
Marry, well
remembered.
I reasoned with a
Frenchman yesterday,
Who told me, in the
narrow seas that part
The French and English,
there miscarried
A vessel of our
country richly fraught.
I thought upon
Antonio when he told me,
And wished in silence
that it were not his.
|
SALARINO
That’s a good point. I spoke with a Frenchman yesterday who
said that a Venetian ship loaded with treasure was wrecked in the English Channel. I thought about Antonio when he told me. I silently hoped it
wasn’t his ship.
|
|
|
SOLANIO
You were best to tell
Antonio what you hear—
Yet do not suddenly,
for it may grieve him.
|
SOLANIO
You should tell Antonio what you hear—but don’t do it
suddenly, because it might upset him.
|
|
35 40 45 |
SALARINO
A kinder gentleman
treads not the earth.
I saw Bassanio and
Antonio part.
Bassanio told him he
would make some speed
Of his return. He
answered, “Do not so.
Slubber not business
for my sake, Bassanio
But stay the very
riping of the time.
And for the Jew’s
bond which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in
your mind of love.
Be merry, and employ
your chiefest thoughts
To courtship and such
fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently
become you there.”
And even there, his
eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he
put his hand behind him,
And with affection
wondrous sensible
He wrung Bassanio’s
hand. And so they parted.
|
SALARINO
There’s no nicer guy in the whole world. I saw Bassanio and
Antonio say goodbye. Bassanio told him he’d try to hurry back. Antonio
answered “Don’t rush. Don’t do a sloppy job for my sake, Bassanio. Stay until
everything is finished. As for the Jew’s contract, don’t let it be a factor
in your plans. Be happy and concentrate your thoughts on love and how to win
your love.” Then his eyes started tearing up. He turned his face away. Then
he shook Bassanio’s hand affectionately—and they separated.
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
|
Enter NERISSA and a servitor
|
NERISSA and a
servant enter.
|
|
|
NERISSA
Quick, quick, I pray
thee. Draw the curtain straight.
The Prince of Arragon
hath ta'en his oath
And comes to his
election presently.
|
NERISSA
Hurry, hurry, close the curtain quick. The prince of Arragon
has taken his oath, and he’s coming to make his choice now.
|
|
|
Flourish cornets
Enter the Prince of ARRAGON,
his train, and PORTIA
|
Trumpets play. The Prince of ARRAGON,
his entourage, and PORTIA enter.
|
|
5 |
PORTIA
Behold, there stand
the caskets, noble Prince.
If you choose that
wherein I am contained,
Straight shall our
nuptial rites be solemnized.
But if you fail,
without more speech, my lord,
You must be gone from
hence immediately.
|
PORTIA
Look, here are the boxes, prince. If you choose the one that
contains my picture, we’ll be married right away. But if you fail, you have
to leave immediately. No pleas will be allowed.
|
|
10 15 |
ARRAGON
I am enjoined by oath
to observe three things:
First, never to
unfold to any one
Which casket ’twas I
chose; next, if I fail
Of the right casket,
never in my life
To woo a maid in way
of marriage; lastly,
If I do fail in
fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave
you and be gone.
|
ARRAGON
I swore I’d do three things. First, I can never tell anyone
what box I choose. Second, if I choose the wrong box, I’ll never propose
marriage for the rest of my life. Third, if I pick the wrong box, I’ll leave
immediately.
|
|
|
PORTIA
To these injunctions
every one doth swear
That comes to hazard
for my worthless self.
|
PORTIA
Everyone who comes to gamble on winning me has to swear to
these three rules.
|
|
20 |
ARRAGON
And so have I
addressed me. Fortune now
To my heart’s hope!
Gold, silver, and base lead.
“Who chooseth me must
give and hazard all he hath.”
You shall look fairer
ere I give or hazard.
What says the golden
chest? Ha, let me see.
“Who chooseth me
shall gain what many men desire.”
|
ARRAGON
Okay, I’m ready. I hope luck will give me what my heart hopes for! Gold, silver, and common
lead. “He who chooses me must give and risk all he has.” You’d
have to be more attractive for me to give or risk anything for you. What does
the golden box say? Hmm, let me see:
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
25 30 35 40 45 50 |
“What many men
desire”—that “many” may be meant
By the fool multitude
that choose by show,
Not learning more
than the fond eye doth teach;
Which pries not to
th' interior, but like the martlet
Builds in the weather
on the outward wall,
Even in the force and
road of casualty.
I will not choose
what many men desire
Because I will not
jump with common spirits
And rank me with the
barbarous multitudes.
Why then, to thee,
thou silver treasure house.
Tell me once more
what title thou dost bear.
“Who chooseth me
shall get as much as he deserves.”
And well said too—for
who shall go about
To cozen fortune and
be honorable
Without the stamp of
merit? Let none presume
To wear an undeservèd
dignity.
Oh, that estates,
degrees and offices
Were not derived
corruptly, and that clear honor
Were purchased by the
merit of the wearer!
How many then should
cover that stand bare!
How many be commanded
that command!
How much low
peasantry would then be gleaned
From the true seed of
honor! And how much honor
Picked from the chaff
and ruin of the times
To be new varnished!
Well, but to my choice.
“Who chooseth me
shall get as much as he deserves.”
I will assume
desert.—Give me a key for this,
And instantly unlock
my fortunes here.
|
“He who chooses me will get what many men want.” What many men
want—that “many” could mean that most people are fools and choose by whatever
is flashy. They don’t go beyond what their eyes see. They don’t bother to
find out what’s on the inside. Just
like those birds called martins who build their nests on the outside of
walls, people pay too much attention to what’s on the outside. So I won’t
choose what many men desire, because I won’t jump on the bandwagon and
include myself with the whole crude population. So I guess it’s you, you
silver treasure house. Tell me once more what you say. “He who chooses me
will get what he deserves.” That’s nicely put—because who’s going to cheat
luck and get more than he deserves? No one should have an honor he doesn’t
deserve. Oh, wouldn’t it be great if property, rank, official positions, and
other honors were earned only by merit, not by corruption? There wouldn’t be
too many important men then. How many people who are humble now would be
great then? How many people who give orders now would have to take orders?
How many noblemen would be weeded out and would become peasants? And how many
common people would suddenly shine
with nobility? Well, let me get back to my choice. “He who chooses me will
get what he deserves.” I’ll assume I deserve the very best.—Give me a key for
this one. I’ll unlock my fate here in a second.
|
|
|
ARRAGON opens the silver casket
|
ARRAGON opens
the silver casket.
|
|
|
PORTIA
Too long a pause for
that which you find there.
|
PORTIA
You thought about it too long, considering what you found
there.
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
55 |
ARRAGON
What’s here? The
portrait of a blinking idiot
Presenting me a
schedule! I will read it.—
How much unlike art
thou to Portia!
How much unlike my
hopes and my deservings!
“Who chooseth me
shall have as much as he deserves”!
Did I deserve no more
than a fool’s head?
Is that my prize? Are
my deserts no better?
|
ARRAGON
What’s this? A picture of an idiot holding a scroll up for me
to read! I’ll read it.—It looks so unlike Portia! This outcome isn’t what I
hoped for, or what I deserve. “The one who chooses me will get
what he deserves”! Didn’t I deserve anything more than a fool’s head? Is this
my prize? Don’t I deserve more than this?
|
|
60 |
PORTIA
To offend and judge
are distinct offices
And of opposèd
natures.
|
PORTIA
Judging what you deserve is one thing. Offending you is
something very different, so I’ll keep my mouth shut.
|
|
65 70 75 |
ARRAGON
What is here?
(reads)
“The fire seven times
tried this,
Seven times tried
that judgment is,
That did never choose
amiss.
Some there be that
shadows kiss.
Such have but a
shadow’s bliss.
There be fools alive,
iwis,
Silvered o'er—and so
was this.
Take what wife you
will to bed,
I will ever be your
head.
So be gone. You are
sped.
Still more fool I
shall appear”
By the time I linger
here.
With one fool’s head
I came to woo,
But I go away with two.—
Sweet, adieu. I’ll
keep my oath
Patiently to bear my
wroth.”
|
ARRAGON
What does this say?
(he reads)
“This box was tested in the fire seven times.
The person who never makes a wrong choice
Has wisdom that will stand the test.
Some people kiss shadows.
They only feel the shadow of joy.
There are fools out there
With silver hair and silver coins.
This choice was as foolish as they are.
Take whatever wife you want to bed with you,
You’ll have a fool’s head forever.
So go away. You’re done here.”
The longer I stay, the more foolish I look. I came here with a
fool’s head on my shoulders and now I’m leaving with two.—Goodbye, sweet
lady. I’ll keep my oath and patiently suffer through my anger.
|
|
|
Exeunt ARRAGON and his train
|
He exits with his train.
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
80 |
PORTIA
Thus hath the candle
singed the moth.
O these deliberate
fools! When they do choose,
They have the wisdom
by their wit to lose.
|
PORTIA
These men are like moths, drawn to these boxes as if they were
flames. This is how the candle burned the moth. Oh, these fools! When they
choose, they only know how to lose.
|
|
|
NERISSA
The ancient saying is
no heresy.
Hanging and wiving
goes by destiny.
|
NERISSA
You know what they say. Destiny chooses when you’ll die and
who you’ll marry.
|
|
|
PORTIA
Come, draw the
curtain, Nerissa.
|
PORTIA
Come on, close the curtain, Nerissa.
|
|
|
Enter MESSENGER
|
A MESSENGER enters.
|
|
85 |
messenger
Where is my lady?
|
MESSENGER
Where’s lady Portia?
|
|
|
PORTIA
Here. What would my
lord?
|
PORTIA
Here. How can I help you, sir?
|
|
90 95 |
MESSENGER
Madam, there is
alighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one
that comes before
To signify th'
approaching of his lord,
From whom he bringeth
sensible regreets,
To wit—besides
commends and courteous breath—
Gifts of rich value.
Yet I have not seen
So likely an
ambassador of love.
A day in April never
came so sweet
To show how costly
summer was at hand,
As this forespurrer
comes before his lord.
|
MESSENGER
Madam, a young Venetian man has arrived to tell us his master
is about to arrive. This lord has sent gifts. Besides his nice polite
greetings, his gifts are expensive. I haven’t seen such a promising candidate
for your love. This servant has arrived before his master the way a sweet
spring day hints about a lush summer. But there’s never been an April day as
promising as this.
|
|
100 |
PORTIA
No more, I pray thee.
I am half afeard
Thou wilt say anon he
is some kin to thee,
Thou spend’st such
high-day wit in praising him.—
Come, come, Nerissa,
for I long to see
Quick Cupid’s post
that comes so mannerly.
|
PORTIA
Please don’t tell me any more. I’m almost afraid you’re going
to tell me he’s a relative of yours, because you’re going so crazy praising
him. Come on, Nerissa, I want to go see this man who’s
come so courteously.
|
|
|
NERISSA
Bassanio, Lord Love,
if thy will it be!
|
NERISSA
I hope it’s Bassanio coming to win Portia!
|
|
|
Exeunt
|
They exit
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
|
Enter SOLANIO and SALARINO
|
SOLANIO and SALARINO enter
|
|
|
SOLANIO
Now, what news on the
Rialto?
|
SOLANIO
So, what’s the news on the Rialto?
|
|
|
SALARINO
Why, yet it lives
there unchecked that Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wracked on the narrow
seas. The Goodwins I think they call the place—a very dangerous flat, and
fatal, where the carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my
gossip report be an honest woman of her word.
|
SALARINO
Well, there’s a rumor that Antonio had a ship carrying
expensive cargo that shipwrecked in the English Channel on the Goodwin Sands,
a very dangerous sandbar. Many ships have sunk there, according to rumors.
|
|
|
SOLANIO
I would she were as
lying a gossip in that as ever knapped ginger or made her neighbors believe
she wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true, without any slips
of prolixity or crossing the plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio,
the honest Antonio—oh, that I had a title good enough to keep his name
company!—
|
SOLANIO
I hope this new rumor is a lie, like the gossiping widow’s
claim that she was sorry her third husband died! But it’s true—I don’t want to
get all mushy and go on and on, but the good Antonio, the honest Antonio—oh,
if I only had a title good enough to match his!—
|
|
|
SALARINO
Come, the full stop.
|
SALARINO
Come on, get to the point.
|
|
15 |
SOLANIO
Ha, what sayest thou?
Why, the end is he hath lost a ship.
|
SOLANIO
What are you saying? Well, the point is, he’s lost a ship.
|
|
|
SALARINO
I would it might
prove the end of his losses.
|
SALARINO
I hope that’s all he loses.
|
|
|
SOLANIO
Let me say “Amen”
betimes, lest the devil cross my prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of
a Jew.
|
SOLANIO
Let me say “amen” quickly, before the devil comes in and stops
my prayer—because here comes the devil, disguised as a Jew.
|
|
|
Enter SHYLOCK
|
SHYLOCK enters.
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
|
How now, Shylock?
What news among the merchants?
|
How’s it going, Shylock? What’s the news among the merchants?
|
|
20 |
SHYLOCK
You knew—none so
well, none so well as you—of my daughter’s flight.
|
SHYLOCK
You knew—no one knew, no one knew as well as you did—about my
daughter’s plans to run away.
|
|
|
SALARINO
That’s certain. I,
for my part, knew the tailor that made the wings she flew withal.
|
SALARINO
That’s true. I even knew the tailor who made the disguise she
wore when she ran off.
|
|
|
SOLANIO
And Shylock, for his
own part, knew the bird was fledged, and then it is the complexion of them
all to leave the dam.
|
SOLANIO
And Shylock knew his daughter was ready to run away. It’s
natural for children to leave their parents.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
She is damned for it.
|
SHYLOCK
She’ll be damned for it.
|
|
|
SOLANIO
That’s certain—if the
devil may be her judge.
|
SALARINO
That’s true—if the devil’s judging her.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
My own flesh and
blood to rebel!
)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
|
SHYLOCK
My own flesh and blood turned against me! A rebel!
))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
|
|
35 |
SHYLOCK
There I have another
bad match!—a bankrupt, a prodigal who dare scarce show his head on the
Rialto, a beggar that was used to come so smug upon the mart. Let him look to
his bond. He was wont to call me usurer; let him look to his bond. He was
wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy; let him look to his bond.
|
SHYLOCK
That’s another bad deal I’ve made!—a bankrupt, a spendthrift,
who now has to hide his head on the Rialto, a beggar who used to look so smug in front of the other
merchants. Let him think about his own debt. He liked to call me a loan shark; let
him think about his debt to me. He
used to lend money as a favor between Christians; but now, let him think about his own debt.
|
|
|
SALARINO
Why, I am sure, if he
forfeit thou wilt not take his flesh.
What’s that good for?
|
SALARINO
But you won’t take his flesh if he can’t pay. What’s that good for?
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
To bait fish withal.
If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me
and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains,
scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine
enemies—and what’s his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a
Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? Fed with the
same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed
by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a
Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not
laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not
revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a
Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a
Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The
villainy you teach me I will execute—and it shall go hard but I will better
the instruction.
|
SHYLOCK
I’ll use it for fish bait. You can’t eat human flesh, but if it feeds nothing else, it’ll feed my
revenge. He’s insulted me and cost me half a million ducats. He’s laughed at
my losses, made fun of my earnings, humiliated my race, thwarted my deals,
turned my friends against me, riled up my enemies—and why? Because I’m a Jew.
Doesn’t a Jew have eyes? Doesn’t a Jew have hands, bodily organs, a
human shape, five senses, feelings, and passions? Doesn’t a
Jew eat the same food, get hurt with the same weapons, get sick with the same
diseases, get healed by the same medicine, and warm up in summer and cool off
in winter just like a Christian? If you prick us with a pin, don’t we bleed?
If you tickle us, don’t we laugh? If you poison us, don’t we die? And if you treat us badly, won’t we try to get
revenge? If we’re like you in everything else, we’ll resemble you in that
respect. If a Jew offends a Christian, what’s the Christian’s kind and gentle
reaction? Revenge. If a Christian offends a Jew, what punishment will he come
up with if he follows the Christian example? Of course, the same thing—revenge!
I’ll treat you as badly as you Christians taught me to—and you’ll be lucky if
I don’t outdo my teachers.
|
|
|
ORIGINAL TEXT
|
MODERN TEXT
|
|
|
Enter a MAN from ANTONIO
|
One of ANTONIO’s SERVANTS enters.
|
|
|
MAN
(to SOLANIO and
SALARINO) Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house and desires to speak
with you both.
|
SERVANT
(to SOLANIO and SALARINO) My master Antonio is at his house
and would like to speak to you both.
|
|
65 |
SALARINO
We have been up and
down to seek him.
|
SALARINO
We’ve been looking for him everywhere.
|
|
|
Enter TUBAL
|
TUBAL enters.
|
|
|
SOLANIO
Here comes another of
the tribe. A third cannot be matched unless the devil himself turn Jew.
|
SOLANIO
Here comes another Jew. You couldn’t find a third like these
two unless the devil himself turned into a Jew.
|
|
|
Exeunt SOLANIO, SALARINO, and MAN
|
SOLANIO, SALARINO,
and ANTONIO’s SERVANTexit.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
How now, Tubal? What
news from Genoa? Hast thou found my
daughter?
|
SHYLOCK
Hello, Tubal. Any news from Genoa? Did you find my daughter?
|
|
70 |
TUBAL
I often came where I
did hear of her, but cannot find her.
|
TUBAL
I went to many places where I heard news about her, but I
couldn’t find her.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
Why, there, there,
there, there! A diamond gone cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfurt—the curse never fell
upon our nation till now! I never felt it till now—Two thousand ducats in
that, and other precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter were dead at
my foot and the jewels in her ear! Would she were hearsed at my foot and the
ducats in her coffin! No news of them? Why, so. And I know not what’s spent
in the search. Why thou, loss upon loss! The thief gone with so much, and so
much to find the thief—and no satisfaction, no revenge. Nor no ill luck
stirring but what lights o' my shoulders, no sighs but o' my breathing, no
tears but o' my shedding.
|
SHYLOCK
Oh, oh, oh! One of the stolen diamonds cost me two thousand
ducats in Frankfurt! I never felt the curse of the Jews until now. I never felt
it until now—two thousand ducats in that diamond, and other precious,
precious jewels! I wish my daughter were dead at my feet wearing those
jewels! I wish she were in her coffin
here, with the ducats in her coffin! You couldn’t find out anything about
them? Why? I don’t even know how much
I’m spending to find them. Loss upon
loss! The thief left with so much, and I’m spending so
much to hunt down the thief—and still I’m not satisfied! I haven’t gotten my
revenge. The only luck I have is bad
luck. Nobody suffers but me. Nobody’s crying except me.
|
|
|
TUBAL
Yes, other men have
ill luck too. Antonio, as I heard in
Genoa—
|
TUBAL
Well, other men have
bad luck too. Antonio, as I heard in Genoa—
|
|
85 |
SHYLOCK
What, what, what? Ill
luck, ill luck?
|
SHYLOCK
What, what, what? Bad
luck, bad luck?
|
|
|
TUBAL
Hath an argosy cast
away coming from Tripolis.
|
TUBAL
He’s had a ship
wrecked coming from Tripolis.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
I thank God, I thank
God! Is ’t true, is ’t true?
|
SHYLOCK
Thank God, thank God!
Is it true, is it true?
|
|
|
TUBAL
I spoke with some of
the sailors that escaped the wrack.
|
TUBAL
I spoke with some of
the sailors who survived the wreck.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
I thank thee, good
Tubal. Good news, good news! Ha, ha, heard in Genoa.
|
SHYLOCK
Thank you, Tubal.
Good news, good news! Ha, ha, heard in Genoa.
|
|
|
TUBAL
Your daughter spent
in Genoa, as I heard, in one night fourscore
ducats.
|
TUBAL
I also heard that
your daughter spent eighty ducats in Genoa one night.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
Thou stickest a
dagger in me. I shall never see my gold again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting!
Fourscore ducats!
|
SHYLOCK
Oh, you’re sticking a
dagger in me! I’ll never see my gold again. Eighty ducats in one shot! Eighty
ducats!
|
|
95 |
TUBAL
There came divers of
Antonio’s creditors in my company to Venice that swear he cannot
choose but break.
|
TUBAL
I came to Venice with a number of
Antonio’s creditors who say he won’t be able to avoid going bankrupt.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
I am very glad of it.
I’ll plague him. I’ll torture him. I am glad of it.
|
SHYLOCK
I’m very glad about
that. I’ll hound him. I’ll torture him. I’m very glad.
|
|
|
TUBAL
One of them showed me
a ring that he had of your daughter for a monkey.
|
TUBAL
One creditor showed
me a ring he got from your daughter in exchange for a monkey.
|
|
|
SHYLOCK
Out upon her! Thou
torturest me, Tubal. It was my turquoise. I had it of Leah when I was a
bachelor. I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys.
|
SHYLOCK
Damn her! You’re
torturing me, Tubal. That was my turquoise ring! Leah gave it to me before we
were married. I wouldn’t have given it away for a whole jungle of monkeys.
|
|
|
TUBAL
But Antonio is
certainly undone.
|
TUBAL
But Antonio’s
certainly ruined.
|
|
105 |
SHYLOCK
Nay, that’s true,
that’s very true. Go, Tubal, fee me an officer. Bespeak him a fortnight
before.—I will have the heart of him if he forfeit, for were he out of Venice I can make what
merchandise I will.—Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue. Go, good
Tubal. At our synagogue, Tubal.
|
SHYLOCK
That’s true, that’s
very true. Tubal, go find me a police officer to arrest Antonio. Get him
ready two weeks ahead of time.—I’ll take Antonio’s heart if he can’t pay.
With him out of Venice, I can make whatever
bargains I want when I lend money.—Go, Tubal. Meet me at the synagogue.
|
|
|
Exeunt severally
|
They exit.
|
|
|
Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO,NERISSA,
and all their trains, including aSINGER
|
BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, and NERISSAenter with all their attendants, including a SINGER.
|
|
5 10 15 20 |
PORTIA
(to BASSANIO) I pray you, tarry. Pause a day or
two
Before you hazard, for
in choosing wrong
I lose your company.
Therefore forbear awhile.
There’s something
tells me—but it is not love—
I would not lose you,
and you know yourself
Hate counsels not in
such a quality.
But lest you should
not understand me well—
And yet a maiden hath
no tongue but thought—
I would detain you
here some month or two
Before you venture for
me. I could teach you
How to choose right,
but I am then forsworn.
So will I never be. So
may you miss me.
But if you do, you’ll
make me wish a sin,
That I had been
forsworn. Beshrew your eyes,
They have o'erlooked
me and divided me.
One half of me is
yours, the other half yours—
Mine own, I would say.
But if mine, then yours,
And so all yours. Oh,
these naughty times
Put bars between the
owners and their rights!
And so, though yours,
not yours. Prove it so.
Let Fortune go to hell
for it, not I.
I speak too long, but
’tis to peize the time,
To eke it and to draw
it out in length,
To stay you from
election.
|
PORTIA
(to BASSANIO) Please wait a day or two before
making your choice. If you choose wrong, I’ll lose your company. So wait a while.
Something tells me—not love, but something—that I don’t want to lose you, and
you know that if I hated you I wouldn’t think that. But let me put it more
clearly in case you don’t understand—though I know girls aren’t supposed to
express their thoughts—I’m just saying I’d like you to stay here for a month
or two before you undergo the test for me. I could tell you how to choose
correctly, but then I’d be disregarding the oath I took. So I’ll never tell.
But you might lose me by making the wrong choice. If you do choose wrong,
you’ll make me wish for something very bad. I’d wish I had ignored my oath
and told you everything. God, your eyes have bewitched me. They’ve divided me
in two. One half of me is yours, and the other half—my own half, I’d call it—belongs
to you too. If it’s mine, then it’s yours, and so I’m all yours. But in this
awful day and age people don’t even have the right to their own property! So
though I’m yours, I’m not yours. If there’s no chance for me to be yours,
then it’s just bad luck. I know I’m talking too much, but I do that just to
make the time last longer, and to postpone your test.
|
|
25 |
BASSANIO
Let me choose,
For as I am, I live
upon the rack.
PORTIA
Upon
the rack, Bassanio? Then confess
What
treason there is mingled with your love.
|
BASSANIO
Let me choose now. I
feel tortured by all this talking.
PORTIA
Tortured, BASSANIO?
Then confess to your crime. Tell us about the treason you ’ve mixed in with
your love.
|
30 |
BASSANIO
None
but that ugly treason of mistrust
Which
makes me fear th' enjoying of my love.
There
may as well be amity and life
'Tween
snow and fire, as treason and my love.
|
BASSANIO
The
only treason I’m guilty of is worrying that I’m never going to get to enjoy
you. Treason has nothing at all to do with my love. They’re as opposite as
hot and cold.
|
|
PORTIA
Ay,
but I fear you speak upon the rack
Where
men enforcèd do speak anything.
|
PORTIA
Hmmm,
I’m not sure I believe what you’re saying. Men under torture will confess
anything.
|
|
BASSANIO
Promise
me life, and I’ll confess the truth.
|
BASSANIO
Promise
me you’ll let me live, and I’ll confess the truth.
|
35 |
PORTIA
Well
then, confess and live.
|
PORTIA
All
right then, confess and live.
|
|
BASSANIO
“Confess
and love”
Had
been the very sum of my confession.
O
happy torment, when my torturer
Doth
teach me answers for deliverance!
But
let me to my fortune and the caskets.
|
BASSANIO
“Confess
and love” is more like it. Oh, torture’s fun when my torturer tells me what I
have to say to go free! But let me try my luck on the boxes.
|
40 45 50 |
PORTIA
Away,
then. I am locked in one of them.
If
you do love me you will find me out.—
Nerissa
and the rest, stand all aloof.
Let
music sound while he doth make his choice.
Then
if he lose he makes a swanlike end,
Fading
in music. That the comparison
May
stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream
And
watery deathbed for him. He may win,
And
what is music then? Then music is
Even
as the flourish when true subjects bow
To a
new-crownèd monarch. Such it is
As
are those dulcet sounds in break of day
That
creep into the dreaming bridegroom’s ear
And
summon him to marriage.
|
PORTIA
Go
ahead, then. I’m locked in one of them. If you really love me, you’ll find me.—Nerissa
and the rest of you, get away from him. Play some music while he chooses.
Then if he loses, it’ll be his swan song, music before the end. And since
swans need water to swim in, I’ll cry him a river when he loses. But on the
other hand, he may win. What music should we play then? If he wins, the music
should be like the majestic trumpets that blare when subjects bow
to a newly crowned monarch. It’s the sweet sounds at daybreak that the dreaming bridegroom
hears on his wedding morning, calling him to the church.
|
55 60 |
Now
he goes
With
no less presence but with much more love
Than
young Alcides, when he did redeem
The
virgin tribute paid by howling Troy
To
the sea monster. I stand for sacrifice.
The
rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,
With
blearèd visages come forth to view
The
issue of th' exploit.—Go, Hercules!
Live
thou, I live. With much, much more dismay
I
view the fight than thou that makest the fray.
|
Bassanio’s
walking to the boxes now. He looks as dignified as Hercules did when he saved
the princess Hesione from the sea monster. But he loves me more than Hercules
loved the princess. I’ll play Hesione, and everyone else will be the bystanders
watching with tear-streaked faces. We’ve all come out to see what will
happen.—Go, Hercules! If you survive, I’ll live. I’m more anxious watching
you fight than you are in the fight itself.
|
|
A
song, the whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to himself
|
A
song plays while BASSANIO mulls over the boxes.
|
65 |
SINGER
(sings)
Tell
me where is fancy bred.
Or in
the heart or in the head?
How
begot, how nourishèd?
|
SINGER
(singing)
Tell
me where do our desires start,
In
the heart or in the head?
How
are they created, how sustained?
|
|
ALL
Reply,
reply.
|
ALL
Answer
me, answer me.
|
70 |
SINGER
(sings)
It is
engendered in the eyes,
With
gazing fed, and fancy dies
In
the cradle where it lies.
Let
us all ring fancy’s knell
I’ll
begin it.—Ding, dong, bell.
|
SINGER
(singing)
Desires
start in the eyes,
Sustained
by gazing, and desires die
Very
young.
Let’s
all mourn our dead desires.
I’ll
begin—Ding, dong, bell.
|
|
ALL
Ding,
dong, bell.
|
ALL
Ding,
dong, bell.
|
75 80 85 90 95 100 105 |
BASSANIO
So
may the outward shows be least themselves.
The
world is still deceived with ornament.
In
law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
But,
being seasoned with a gracious voice,
Obscures
the show of evil? In religion,
What
damnèd error, but some sober brow
Will
bless it and approve it with a text,
Hiding
the grossness with fair ornament?
There
is no vice so simple but assumes
Some
mark of virtue on his outward parts.
How
many cowards whose hearts are all as false
As
stairs of sand wear yet upon their chins
The
beards of Hercules and frowning Mars,
Who,
inward searched, have livers white as milk,
And
these assume but valor’s excrement
To
render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
And
you shall see ’tis purchased by the weight,
Which
therein works a miracle in nature,
Making
them lightest that wear most of it.
So
are those crispèd snaky golden locks
Which
maketh such wanton gambols with the wind,
Upon
supposèd fairness, often known
To be
the dowry of a second head,
The
skull that bred them in the sepulcher.
Thus
ornament is but the guilèd shore
To a
most dangerous sea, the beauteous scarf
Veiling
an Indian beauty—in a word,
The
seeming truth which cunning times put on
To
entrap the wisest. Therefore then, thou gaudy gold,
Hard
food for Midas, I will none of thee.
Nor
none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
'Tween
man and man. But thou, thou meagre lead,
Which
rather threaten’st than dost promise aught,
Thy
paleness moves me more than eloquence,
And
here choose I. Joy be the consequence!
|
BASSANIO
You
can’t always judge a book by its cover. People are often tricked by false
appearances. In court, someone can deliver a false plea but hide its
wickedness with a pretty voice. In religion, don’t serious men defend sins
with Scripture, covering up evil with a show of good. Every sin in the world
manages to make itself look good somehow. How many people are cowards at
heart but wear beards like Hercules or
Mars, the god of war? Take another example: beauty. It can be bought by the
ounce in makeup, which works miracles. Women who wear it the most are
respected the least. It’s the same thing with hair. Curly golden hair moves
so nicely in the wind and makes a
woman beautiful. But you can buy that kind of hair as a wig, and wigs are
made from dead people’s hair. Decoration’s nothing but a danger, meant to trick and trap the viewer. A
lovely, cunning shore can distract a man from the perils of a stormy sea,
just as a pretty scarf can hide a dangerous dark-skinned beauty. Nowadays,
everyone’s fooled by appearances. So I’ll have nothing to do with that gaudy
gold box—it’s like the gold that Midas couldn’t eat. And I’ll have nothing to
do with the pale silver either, the metal that common coins are made of. But
this humble lead one, though it looks too threatening to promise me anything
good, moves me more than I can say. So this is the one I choose. I hope I’m
happy with my choice!
|
110
115 |
PORTIA
(aside) How all the other passions fleet to air,
As
doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair,
And
shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy!
O
love, be moderate. Allay thy ecstasy.
In
measure rein thy joy. Scant this excess.
I
feel too much thy blessing. Make it less,
For
fear I surfeit.
|
PORTIA
(to
herself) All my other emotions are vanishing into thin air, as all my
doubts and desperation and fears and jealousy are all flying away! Oh, I need
to calm down, make my love and my joy less intense. I’m feeling this too
strongly. Please make my love less, or I’m going to overindulge, making
myself sick.
|
120 125 130 135 140 |
BASSANIO
(opening
the lead casket)
What
find I here?
Fair
Portia’s counterfeit! What demigod
Hath
come so near creation? Move these eyes?
Or
whether, riding on the balls of mine,
Seem
they in motion? Here are severed lips,
Parted
with sugar breath. So sweet a bar
Should
sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs,
The
painter plays the spider and hath woven
A
golden mesh t' entrap the hearts of men
Faster
than gnats in cobwebs. But her eyes—
How
could he see to do them? Having made one,
Methinks
it should have power to steal both his
And
leave itself unfurnished. Yet look how far
The
substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow
In
underprizing it, so far this shadow
Doth
limp behind the substance. Here’s the scroll,
The
continent and summary of my fortune.
(reads)
“You
that choose not by the view,
Chance
as fair and choose as true.
Since
this fortune falls to you,
Be
content and seek no new.
If
you be well pleased with this
And
hold your fortune for your bliss,
Turn
you where your lady is
And
claim her with a loving kiss.”
|
BASSANIO
(opening
the lead box) What do we have here? A picture of beautiful Portia! What artist captured
her likeness so well? Are these eyes moving? Or do they just seem to move as my eyes move? Her sweet breath forces her
lips open, a lovely divider of lovely lips. And look at her hair, looking
like a golden mesh to trap the hearts
of men, like little flies in a cobweb. The painter was like a spider in
creating it so delicately. But her eyes—how could he keep looking at them
long enough to paint them? I would’ve expected that when he finished one of them, it would
have enraptured him and kept him from painting the other. But I’m giving only
faint praise of the picture, just as the picture, as good as it is, is only a
faint imitation of the real woman herself. Here’s the scroll that sums up my
fate:
(he
reads)
“You
who don’t judge by looks alone,
Have
better luck, and make the right choice.
Since
this prize is yours,
Be
happy with it, and don’t look for a new one.
If
you’re happy with what you’ve won
And
accept this prize as your blissful destiny,
Then
turn to where your lady is,
And
claim her with a loving kiss.”
|
145 150 |
A
gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave,
I
come by note to give and to receive.
Like
one of two contending in a prize
That
thinks he hath done well in people’s eyes,
Hearing
applause and universal shout,
Giddy
in spirit, still gazing in a doubt
Whether
these pearls of praise be his or no—
So,
thrice fair lady, stand I even so,
As
doubtful whether what I see be true
Until
confirmed, signed, ratified by you.
|
A
nice message. My lady, with your permission, this note authorizes me to give
myself to you with a kiss. But I’m in a daze, like someone who’s just won a
contest and thinks that all the applause and cheering is for him, but isn’t
sure yet. And so, beautiful lady, I’m standing here just like that, wondering whether all this can be true
until you tell me it is.
|
155 160 165 170 175 |
PORTIA
You
see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand
Such
as I am. Though for myself alone
I
would not be ambitious in my wish
To
wish myself much better, yet for you
I
would be trebled twenty times myself—
A
thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich—
That
only to stand high in your account
I
might in virtue, beauties, livings, friends
Exceed
account. But the full sum of me
Is
sum of something which, to term in gross,
Is an
unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpracticèd;
Happy
in this—she is not yet so old
But
she may learn. Happier than this—
She
is not bred so dull but she can learn.
Happiest
of all is that her gentle spirit
Commits
itself to yours to be directed
As
from her lord, her governor, her king.
Myself
and what is mine to you and yours
Is
now converted. But now I was the lord
Of
this fair mansion, master of my servants,
Queen
o'er myself. And even now, but now,
This
house, these servants, and this same myself
Are
yours, my lord’s. I give them with this ring,
Which
when you part from, lose, or give away,
Let
it presage the ruin of your love And be my vantage to exclaim on you.
(gives BASSANIO a ring)
|
PORTIA
You
see me standing here, Lord Bassanio. What you see is what you get. Though I
wouldn’t wish to be better for my own sake, for your sake I wish I were
twenty times more than myself—a
thousand times more beautiful and ten thousand times richer—just so you might
value me more, so my good qualities,
beauty, possessions, and friends would
be more than you could calculate. What you’re getting is an innocent and
inexperienced girl. I’m happy that at least I’m not too old to learn new
things. I’m even happier that I’m not stupid, and I can learn. I’m happiest
of all that I’m yours now, my lord, my
king, and you can guide me as you wish. Everything I am and everything I have now belongs to
you. Just a minute ago I was the owner of this beautiful mansion,
master of these servants, and queen over myself. But as of right this second
all these things are yours. With this ring I give them all to you.
If
you ever give away this ring or lose it, it means our love’s doomed, and I’ll
have a right to be angry with you.
(she
gives BASSANIO the ring)
|
180 185 190 |
BASSANIO
Madam,
you have bereft me of all words.
Only
my blood speaks to you in my veins.
And
there is such confusion in my powers
As
after some oration fairly spoke
By a
belovèd prince there doth appear
Among
the buzzing pleasèd multitude,
Where
every something, being blent together,
Turns
to a wild of nothing, save of joy,
Expressed
and not expressed. But when this ring
Parts
from this finger, then parts life from hence.
O,
then be bold to say Bassanio’s dead!
|
BASSANIO
Madam,
you’ve left me speechless, but my feelings are responding to your words. I’m
as confused as a crowd of people going wild after hearing their prince give a
speech. But the day I take this ring off will be the day I die. If you see me
without it, you can be confident I’m dead.
|
|
NERISSA
My
lord and lady, it is now our time,
That
have stood by and seen our wishes prosper,
To
cry, “Good joy, good joy, my lord and lady!”
|
NERISSA
My
lord and lady, it’s now our turn, who have been watching as our dreams came
true. Now we can shout, “Congratulations, congratulations, my lord and lady!”
|
195 |
GRATIANO
My
Lord Bassanio and my gentle lady,
I
wish you all the joy that you can wish,
For I
am sure you can wish none from me.
And
when your honors mean to solemnize
The
bargain of your faith, I do beseech you
Even
at that time I may be married too.
|
GRATIANO
My
Lord Bassanio, and my dear lady, I wish you all the joy I can wish for. And when you get
married, I hope I can be married at
the same time.
|
200 |
BASSANIO
With
all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.
|
BASSANIO
Absolutely,
if you can find a wife by then.
|
205 210 |
GRATIANO
I
thank your lordship, you have got me one.
My
eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours.
You
saw the mistress, I beheld the maid.
You
loved, I loved. For intermission
No
more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
Your
fortune stood upon the casket there,
And
so did mine too, as the matter falls.
For
wooing here until I sweat again,
And
swearing till my very roof was dry
With
oaths of love, at last—if promise last—
I got
a promise of this fair one here
To
have her love, provided that your fortune
Achieved
her mistress.
|
GRATIANO
I
think I’ve found one already, thanks to you, my lord. I can
fall in love just as quickly as you can, and I loved Nerissa as soon as I
laid eyes on her. You fell in love with Portia, and I fell in love with
Nerissa, because I’m not in the habit of delaying any more than you are, my
lord. Your fate depended on those boxes, and it
turns out that mine did too. I couldn’t help but chase her. I started making
love vows to her till my mouth was dry. Then finally she said she loved me and would
marry me if you two got married as well.
|