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ACT I.
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ACT I.

Scene I.

Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and Lorenzo.
Anto.
I hold the World, but as a Stage, Gratiano,
‘Where every Man must play some certain Part,
And mine's a serious one.

Grat.
Laughter and Mirth be mine,
Why should a Man, whose Blood is warm and young,
Sit like his Grandsire, cut in Alablaster!
Sleep, when he wakes, and creep into the Jaundice,
By being peevish! I tell thee what, Antonio!
I love thee, and it is 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,
‘Screwing their Faces in a politick Form,
‘To cheat Observers with a false Opinion
Of Wisdom, Gravity, profound Conceit;
As who should say, I am, Sir, an Oracle.
Oh my Antonio! I do know of these,
Who therefore only are reputed wise,
For saying nothing; But more of this
Another time. ‘Let you and I, Lorenzo,
‘Take a short turn: Once more, my Friends, be merry.
‘All have their Follies; merry Fools are best.
Lorenzo come, Sir Gravities, Farewell,
I'll end my Exhortation after Dinner.

[Exeunt Grat. and Lorenz.
Bassa.
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing;
More than any Man in all Venice. His Reasons
Are two Grains of Wheat, hid in two Bushels of Chaff,
You may seek all day e're you find 'em, and when
You have 'em, they are not worth the Search.


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Anto.
Well, tell me now, what Lady is the same
To whom you swore a secret Pilgrimage,
That you to day promis'd to tell me of.

Bassa.
'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
How much I have disabled my Estate
By something showing a more swelling Port,
Than my faint Means would grant continuance;
Nor would I now make suit to be abridg'd,
From such a noble Rate; but my chief Care
Is to come fairly off, from the great Debts
Wherein my Time, something too prodigal,
Has left me bound. To you, Antonio,
I owe the most in Mony and in Love.

Anto.
‘My Friend can owe me nothing; we are one,
‘The Treasures I possess, are but in Trust,
‘For him I love. Speak freely your Demand,
And if it stand, as you your self still do,
Within the Eye of Honor, be assur'd,
My Purse, my Person, my extreamest Means,
‘Are all my Friends.

Bassa.
In my School- days, when I had lost one Shaft,
I shot his Fellow of the self-same Flight,
The self-same way, with more advis'd Regard,
And by advent'ring both, I oft found both.
I owe you much, and like a Prodigal;
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.

Anto.
You know me well, and herein spend but Time,
To wind about my Love with Circumstance.
‘Believe me, my Bassanio, 'tis more wrong
‘Thus to delay the Service of your Friend,
Than if you had made waste of all I have;
‘Is this to be a Friend? With blushing Cheek,
‘With down-cast Eyes, and with a faltring Tongue,
‘We sue to those we doubt: Friendship is plain,
‘Artless, familiar, confident and free.
‘Ask then as you wou'd grant, were yours the Power,
‘Were yours the Power, so would I ask of you;
‘No longer hesitate. Give me to know
‘What you wou'd have me do, and think it done.


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Bass.
‘Then briefly thus. In Belmont is a Lady
Immensly rich, and yet more fair than rich.
‘And vertuous as she's fair, sometimes from her Eyes
I have receiv'd kind speechless Messages.
Her Name is Portia: you have heard her Fame,
From the Four Corners of the World; the Winds
Blow in, from every Coast, adoring Crowds;
The watry Kingdom, whose ambitious Head
Spets in the Face of Heaven, is no Bar
‘To æmulous Love, as o're a Brook they come
‘To Anchor at her Heart: Her Sunny Locks
Hang on her Temples, like a golden Fleece,
For which these many Jason's sayl in Quest.
O my Antonio, had I but the Means
To hold a Rival-Place with one of 'em.

Anto.
The Means be thine, if I can find the Means;
My present Fortunes are, thou know'st, at Sea.
No Money, nor Commodity is left me
‘To raise immediate Sums. Therefore go forth,
Try what my Credit can in Venice do.
It shall be rack'd even to the uttermost
‘To furnish thy Desires: ‘Nay, no set Speech
‘Of formal Thanks, which I must blush to hear.
Go, presently enquire. And so will I,
Where Money is: ‘In Friendship, who receives,
‘Obliges, by Acceptance, him that gives.

[Exeunt.
SCENE Changes to Belmont.
Enter Portia and Nerissa.
Port.
In short, Nerissa, my little Body is weary of this
Great World.

Neriss.
It might indeed, if your Wants were as great as your
Plenty. For ought I see, they are as sick, who surfeit
With too much, as those who starve with too little;
‘From whence I conclude, That Happiness is seated in
‘The Mean: Superfluity brings Care, Care both
‘Robs us of our Time, and shortens our Days;
‘But Competency is the easiest and the longest Liver.

Port.
Good Sentences, and well pronounc'd.

Neriss.
They wou'd be better, if well follow'd.

Port.
It is a good Divine, who follows his own Teaching;
I could easier instruct Twenty, what were good to do,

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Than be one of the Twenty, to follow my own Instruction.
The Brain may devise Laws for the Blood; ‘but the hot
‘Part will be sure to get the better of the cold; but what
Is all this to my choosing a Husband: Ah me! The Word
Choose: I am neither to choose whom I like, nor
Refuse whom I dislike; so is the Pleasure of a
Living Daughter restrain'd by the Will of a dead
Father. Was ever Woman ty'd to such hard Laws,
Nerissa? Neither to choose, nor refuse?

Neriss.
Your Father was ever virtuous, and holy Men at
Their Deaths have often good Inspirations; wherefore
In this Lottery, which he dying devis'd, in these Three
Caskets of Gold, Silver and Lead, whereof who
Chooses his Meaning chooses you: I have Superstition
‘Enough to believe the Benefit Lot is destin'd for
‘The best Deserver.
‘Love is at best, but a Lottery to all,
‘Your Case looks different, but is in Effect the same
‘With the rest of the World: For it is Fortune that
‘Always decides.—
And now pray discover to whom of this Retinue of Suitors
Stand your Affections most inclin'd,
‘Never was Woman so surrounded as you are.

Port.
Penelope was but a poor Princess to Portia,
But come, out with your List; Read me the Names,
And according as I describe, guess at my Inclinations.

Ner.
‘What a long List is here! Alas for poor Men, that
‘Among so many, but one can be happy!

Port.
‘Alas! for poor Woman! that when she might have so
‘Many, she must have but one; but come, a Truce
‘To moral Reflections: Read, read.

Ner.
Imprimis, here in the front, stands Monsieur le Comte,
Your French Lover.

Port.
‘Of himself, thou mean'st: He has more Tricks than
‘A Baboon: If my Bird sings, he strait falls a capering;
He will fence with his own Shadow; ‘nor is his Tongue
‘Less nimble than his Heels; I would as soon marry
‘My Squirrel, or my Monkey.

Ner.
What think you then of your Englishman, he comes next.

Port.
‘The Frenchman's Ape: No, give me an Original,
Whatever it be. The Ape of an Ape must needs be a strange Monster.

Neriss.
Myn Heer van Gutts, the Dutchman, how like you him?

Port.
Very vilely in the Morning, when he is sober: And
More vilely in the Afternoon, when he is drunk;
At best, he is worse than a Man; and at worst, no better

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Than a Beast: I will do any thing, Nerissa, e're I'll
Be marry'd to a Sponge.

Neriss.
For any thing I find, this Lottery is not like to be
Fair drawn: For if he should choose the right Casket,
You'll refuse to perform your Father's Will.

Port.
Therefore, I prithee, Set a Bumper of Rhenish
On the contrary Casket; for if the Devil be within,
And the Temptation without, I know he will
Choose it.
La Seignora Gutts! oh hideous! what
‘A Sound would there be in the Mouth of an
‘Italian?

Enter Servant.
Serv.
Some of the Strangers, Madam, desire to take
Their Leaves: And there are others just arriv'd, and
Alighting at the Gate.

Port.
Would some one, would come, to whom I could bid
Welcome, as heartily, as I can bid all these, Farewell.
‘There is a Man, Nerissa, such a Man; But what we wish,
‘Either never arrives, or is always longest in coming:
Fellow, go before: Nerissa, come: Whilst we shut
Out one Lover, another knocks at the Gate.

Neriss.
‘This Lottery will certainly be drawn full.

[Exeunt.
SCENE returns to Venice.
Enter Bassanio, and Shylock the Jew.
Shyl.
Three Thousand Duccats. Well.

Bass.
Ay Sir, for Three Months.

Shyl.
For Three Months. Well.

Bass.
And as I told you, Antonio will be bound.

Shyl.
Antonio bound. Well.

Bass.
Will you oblige me, shall I know your Answer?

Shyl.
Three Thousand Duccats for Three Months, and
Antonio bound!

Bass.
Your Answer to that?

Shyl.
Antonio is a good Man.

Bass.
Have you heard any Imputation to the contrary.

Shyl.
No, no, no; my Meaning in saying he is a good
Man, is to have yon understand that I think him

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A sufficient Man. ‘When a Man is rich, we say
‘He is a good Man,
‘As on the contrary, when he has nothing, we say a
‘Poor Rascal: 'tis the Phrase, 'tis the Phrase. Let me
‘Consider, one Argosy from Tripoli, another to the Indies,
A Third at Mexico; I understand moreover a fourth
For England, And other Ventures he has, scatter'd
Abroad; but Ventures are but Ventures, Ships are
But Planks, Sailers but Men: There are Land-Rats
And Water-Rats, Water-Theives and Land-Thieves:
And then there is the Peril of Waters, Winds and Rocks.
The Man notwithstanding is a sufficient Man. Three Thousand
Duccats—humph—I think I may venture to take his Bond.

Bass.
Be assur'd you may.

Shyl.
I will be assur'd; and that I may be assur'd, I will bethink
Me, where I may speak with Antonio.

Bass.
If you will please to dine with us.

Shyl.
Yes, to smell Pork, to ear of the Habitation, which
Your Prophet conjur'd the Devil into. I will buy
With you, Sell with you, talk with you, walk with you,
And so forth,—but I will neither eat with you, drink
With you, nor pray with you, that's flat.

Enter Antonio.
Bassa.
Here is Seignior Antonio.

Shyl.
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 could catch him once upon the Hip,
I would 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-worn Thrift,
Which he calls Interest: Curst be my Tribe,
If I forgive him.—

Bassa.
Shyloc, do you hear?

Shyl.
I was debating of my private Stock:
And if my Computation's right,
I cannot instantly raise up the Gross
Of full Three Thousand Duccats, what of that?
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of our Tribe

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Shall furnish me; but soft! How many Months
Is't you desire?
Rest you fair, good Seignior,
You were the last Man in our Mouths.

Ant.
Shyloc, altho' I neither lend nor borrow,
By taking or by giving of Excess,
Yet to supply my Friend, I'll break a Custom:
Is he yet resolv'd, how much will serve?

Shyl.
Ay, ay, Three Thousand Duccats,

Anto.
And for Three Months.

Shyl.
I had forgot, Three Months he told me so,
Well then, your Bond. But soft a little, methoughts
You said, you neither lend nor borrow
Upon Advantage.

Anto.
I do never use it.

Shyl.
When Jacob graz'd his Uncle Laban's Sheep,
This Jacob from our holy Abraham was,
As his wise Mother wrought on his behalf,
The third Possessor, ay,—he was the third.

Anto.
And what of him? Did he take Interest?

Shyl.
No, not as you wou'd say, directly interest—
‘You know the Story. 'Twas a way to thrive.
‘And he was blest: For Gain is Blessing,
So Men steal it not.

Anto.
Was this inserted to make Interest good?

Shyl.
Note, my good Seignior!—

Anto.
Mark you this, Bassanio?
The Devil can cite Scripture for a Turn,
An evil Soul producing holy Witness
Is like a Villain, with a smiling Cheek.
Oh, what a goodly Outside Falshood wears?

Shyl.
Seignior Antonio, many a time and oft
On the Ryalto have you rated me,
About my Monies and my Usances;
Still have I born it with a patient Shrug,
For Sufferance is the Badge of all our Tribe.
You call me Misbeliever, Cut-throat Dog,
And spet upon my Jewish Gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is my own.
Well then, it now appears, you need my Help:
Go to then,—you come to me, and you say
Shylock, we would have Monies;
You that did void your Rheum upon my Beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger Cur
Over your Threshold: Mony is your Suit,
What shou'd I answer? should I not say,
Has a Dog Money? Can a Cur

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Lend Three Thousand Duccats? or shall I bend down low,
And in a Bondman's Key, with softned Voice,
And whispering Humbleness,—Say thus!
Fair Sir, on Wednesday last, you spet on me
You spurn'd me such a day, another time;
You call'd me Dog, and for these Courtesies
I'll lend you so much Monies.

Anto.
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 Friend; for when did Friendship take
A Breed of sordid Mettal of his Friend!
But lend it rather as to thy Enemy,
Who, if he fails, thou may'st with better Face
Exact the Penalty.

Shyl.
Why, look you, how you storm,
I would be Friends with you, and have your Love!
Forget the Shames that you have stain'd me with,
Supply your present Wants, and take no Doit
Of Usance for my Monies—And you'll
Not hear me—‘were this Offer kind?

Bassa.
This were Kindness.

Shyl.
This Kindness will I shew; nay more, I'll take
Antonio's single Bond: And that we may henceforth
‘Be Friends, no Penalty will I exact
‘But this, meerly for Mirth—
If you repay me not on such a day, in such a Place,
Such Sum or Sums as are exprest—Be this
The Forfeiture.
‘Let me see, What think you of your Nose,
‘Or of an Eye—or of—a Pound of Flesh
To be cut off, and taken from what Part
Of your Body—I shall think fit to name.
‘Thou art too portly, Christian!
‘Too much pamper'd—What say you then
‘To such a merry Bond?

Anto.
The Jew grows witty; I'll seal to such a Bond,
And say there is much Kindness in the Jew.

Bass.
You shall not seal to such a Bond—
‘There is some Trick, some farther Fetch in this;
You shall not seal to such a Bond for me.

Anto.
Fear not, my Friend, within two Months, that is
A Month before the Bond expires, I expect Returns
Of thrice three times the Value of this Bond.


9

Shyl.
O Father Abraham, what these Christians are?
Whose own hard Dealings teach 'em to suspect
The Truth of others. Pray tell me, shou'd he fail
His Day,—what should I get by the Exaction
Of the Penalty? A Pound of Man's Flesh?
Nor to be sold nor eaten.—
To buy his Favour, I propos'd these Terms,
Such as I thought could bear no wrong
Construction; but since you're so suspicious,
Fare you well.

[Going.
Anto.
Stay, Shylock, I will seal as you propose.

Shyl.
Then meet me at the Notary's,
[Returning.
Give him Directions to prepare the Bond,
In the mean time, I'll fetch the Duccats;
See to my House, least some unthrifty Knave
Be on the Guard! Christian, thy Hand,
I'll presently be with you.
[Exit Jew.

Ant.
Thou'rt now a very gentle Jew.
This Hebrew will turn Christian, he grows kind.

Bass.
I like not yet the Terms,
‘A Villain, when he most seems kind,
‘Is most to be suspected.

Anto.
There is not the least Danger, nor can be,
‘Or if there were, what is a Pound of Flesh,
‘What my whole Body, every Drop of Blood,
‘To purchase my Friend's Quiet! Heav'n still is good
‘To those who seek the Good of others: Come Bassanio,
‘Be chearful, for 'tis lucky Gold we borrow:
‘Of all the Joys that generous Minds receive,
‘The noblest is, the God-like Power to give.

[Exeunt.