should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise me, I
would forgive him, for if55 he love me to madness, I should
never requite him.
NERISSA What say you then to Falconbridge, the young
baron of England?
PORTIA You know I say59 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 swear61 that I have a
poor pennyworth in the62 English. He is a proper man’s
picture, but alas, who can converse with a dumb show63? How
oddly he is suited64. I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his
round hose65 in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his
behaviour everywhere.
NERISSA What think you of the other lord, his neighbour?
PORTIA That he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for he
borrowed69 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 surety71 and sealed under for another.
NERISSA How like you the young German, the Duke of
Saxony73’s nephew?
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 beast77. An the worst fall that ever fell, I
hope I shall make shift78 to go without him.
NERISSA If he should offer to choose, and choose the right
casket, you should80 refuse to perform your father’s will, if you
should refuse to accept him.
PORTIA Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set a
deep glass of Rhenish wine83 on the contrary casket, for if the
devil be within, and that temptation without84, I know he will
choose it. I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to
a sponge86.
NERISSA You need not fear, lady, the having any of these
lords. They have acquainted me with their determinations88,
which is indeed to return to their home, and to trouble you
with no more suit90, unless you may be won by some other sort
than your father’s imposition91, depending on the caskets.
PORTIA If I live to be as old as Sibylla92, I will die as chaste as
Diana93, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father’s
will. I am glad this parcel94 of wooers are so reasonable, for
there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence,
and I wish them a fair departure.
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 Marquis of Montferrat99?
PORTIA Yes, yes, it was Bassanio, as I think, so was he called.
NERISSA True, madam. He, of all the men that ever my
foolish102 eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady.
PORTIA I remember him well, and I remember him worthy
of thy praise.
Enter a Servingman
SERVANT The four strangers105 seek you, madam, to take their
leave. And there is a forerunner106 come from a fifth, the Prince
of Morocco, who brings word the prince his master will be
here tonight.
PORTIA If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good heart as
I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his
approach. If he have the condition111 of a saint and the
complexion of a devil112, I had rather he should shrive me than
wive113 me. Come, Nerissa.—Sirrah, go before; whiles
To the Servingman
we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks
at the door.
Exeunt
[Act 1 Scene 3]
running scene 3
Location: Venice
Enter Bassanio with Shylock the Jew
SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats1, well.
BASSANIO Ay, sir, for three months.
SHYLOCK For three months, well.
BASSANIO For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be
bound5.
SHYLOCK Antonio shall become bound, well.
BASSANIO May you stead7 me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I
know your answer?
SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats for three months and
Antonio bound.
BASSANIO Your answer to that.
SHYLOCK Antonio is a good man.
BASSANIO Have you heard any imputation13 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 sufficient15.
Yet his means are in supposition16: he hath an argosy bound to
Tripolis17, another to the Indies, I understand moreover, upon
the Rialto18, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England,
and other ventures he hath squandered19 abroad. But ships are
but boards, sailors but men. There be land-rats and water-
rats, water-thieves and land-thieves—I mean pirates21—and
then there is the peril of waters, winds and rocks. The man is,
notwithstanding23, sufficient. Three thousand ducats. I think I
may take his bond.
BASSANIO Be assured you may.
SHYLOCK I will be assured26 I may. And that I may be assured, I
will bethink me27. May I speak with Antonio?
BASSANIO If it please you to dine with us.
SHYLOCK Yes, to smell pork, to eat of the habitation29 which
your prophet the Nazarite30 conjured the devil into. I will buy
with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so
following32, 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
BASSANIO This is Signior Antonio.
SHYLOCK How like a fawning publican36 he looks!
Aside
I hate him for he is a Christian,
But more, for that in low simplicity38
He lends out money gratis39 and brings down
The rate of usance40 here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip41,
I will feed fat42 the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation43, and he rails—
Even there where merchants most do congregate44—
On me, my bargains and my well-won thrift45,
Which he calls interest. Cursèd be my tribe46,
If I forgive him!
BASSANIO Shylock, do you hear?
SHYLOCK I am debating of my present store49,
And by the near guess of my memory,
I cannot instantly raise up the gross51
Of full three thousand ducats. What of that?
Tubal53, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
Will furnish54 me; but soft! How many months
Do you desire?—Rest you fair55, good signior.
To Antonio
Your worship was the last man in our mouths56.
ANTONIO Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking nor by giving of excess58,
Yet to supply the ripe wants59 of my friend,
I’ll break a custom.—Is he yet possessed60
To Bassanio
How much ye would61?
SHYLOCK Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
ANTONIO And for three months.
SHYLOCK I had forgot—three months—you told me so.
Well then, your bond65. And let me see, but hear you,
Methoughts you said you
neither lend nor borrow
Upon advantage67.
ANTONIO I do never use68 it.
SHYLOCK When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban’s sheep69—
This Jacob from70 our holy Abram was,
As his wise mother wrought71 in his behalf,
The third possessor72; ay, he was the third—
ANTONIO And what of him? Did he take interest?
SHYLOCK No, not take interest, not, as you would say,
Directly interest. Mark75 what Jacob did:
When Laban and himself were compromised76
That all the eanlings77 which were streaked and pied
Should fall as78 Jacob’s hire, the ewes, being rank,
In end of autumn turnèd to the rams,
And, when the work of generation80 was
Between these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilful shepherd peeled me certain wands82,
And in the doing of the deed of kind83,
He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes84,
Who then conceiving, did in eaning85 time
Fall86 parti-coloured lambs, and those were Jacob’s.
This was a way to thrive87, and he was blest:
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.
ANTONIO This was a venture89, sir, that Jacob served for,
A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
But swayed and fashioned91 by the hand of heaven.
Was this inserted92 to make interest good?
Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
SHYLOCK I cannot tell, I make it breed as fast.
But note me, signior—
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 goodly100 apple rotten at the heart.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats, ’tis a good round sum.
Three months from twelve, then let me see, the rate—
ANTONIO Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding104 to you?
SHYLOCK Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated106 me
About my moneys and my usances.
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For sufferance109 is the badge of all our tribe.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine111,
And all for use112 of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help.
Go to114, then. You come to me and you say
‘Shylock, we would have moneys’—you say so,
You that did void116 your rheum upon my beard,
And foot117 me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold. Moneys is your suit118.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
‘Hath a dog money? Is it possible
A cur should lend three thousand ducats?’ Or
Shall I bend low and in a bondman’s key122,
With bated123 breath and whisp’ring humbleness,
Say this: ‘Fair sir, you spat 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’?
ANTONIO I am as like128 to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friends, for when did friendship take
A breed of barren metal132 of his friend?
But lend it rather to thine enemy,
Who, if he break134, thou mayst with better face
Exact the penalties.
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 doit139
Of usance for my moneys, and you’ll not hear me:
This is kind141 I offer.
BASSANIO This were142 kindness.
SHYLOCK This kindness will I show:
Go with me to a notary144, seal me there
Your single145 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 condition148, let the forfeit
Be nominated for149 an equal pound
Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body it pleaseth me.
ANTONIO Content, in faith, I’ll seal to such a bond
And say there is much kindness in the Jew.
BASSANIO You shall not seal to such a bond for me.
I’ll rather dwell155 in my necessity.
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.
SHYLOCK O father Abram, what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect161
The thoughts of others! Pray you tell me this:
If he should break his day163, what should I gain
By the exaction164 of the forfeiture?
A pound of man’s flesh taken from a man
Is not so estimable166, profitable neither,
As flesh of muttons, beefs or goats. I say
To buy his favour, I extend this friendship:
If he will take it, so169, if not, adieu.
And for my love, I pray you wrong me not.
ANTONIO Yes Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
SHYLOCK Then meet me forthwith172 at the notary’s,
Give him direction173 for this merry bond,
And I will go and purse174 the ducats straight,
See175 to my house, left in the fearful guard
Of an unthrifty176 knave, and presently
I’ll be with you.
Exit
This Hebrew will turn Christian, he grows kind179.
BASSANIO I like not fair terms and a villain’s mind.
ANTONIO Come on, in this there can be no dismay.
My ships come home a month before the day.
Exeunt
Act 2 [Scene 1]
running scene 4
Location: Belmont
Enter Morocco, a tawny Moor, all in white, and three or four followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerissa and their train. Flourish cornets
MOROCCO Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadowed livery2 of the burnished sun,
To whom I am a neighbour and near bred3.
Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
Where Phoebus5’ fire scarce thaws the icicles,
And let us make incision6 for your love,
To prove whose blood is reddest7, his or mine.
I tell thee, lady, this aspect8 of mine
Hath feared9 the valiant. By my love I swear,
The best-regarded virgins of our clime10
Have loved it too: I would not change this hue11,
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
PORTIA In terms of choice I am not solely led
By nice14 direction of a maiden’s eyes.
Besides, the lott’ry of my destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing.
But if my father had not scanted17 me,
And hedged18 me by his wit to yield myself
His19 wife who wins me by that means I told you,
Yourself, renownèd prince, then20 stood as fair
As any comer I have looked on yet
For22 my affection.
MOROCCO Even for that I thank you:
Therefore, I pray you lead me to the caskets
To try my fortune. By this scimitar25
That slew the Sophy26 and a Persian prince
That won three fields27 of Sultan Solyman,
I would o’erstare28 the sternest eyes that look,
Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey
To win thee, lady. But alas the while!
If Hercules33 and Lichas play at dice
Which is the better man, the greater throw
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand:
So is Alcides36 beaten by his page,
And so may I, blind fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.
PORTIA You must take your chance,
And either not attempt to choose at all
Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong
Never to speak to lady afterward
In way of marriage: therefore be advised44.
MOROCCO Nor will not45. Come, bring me unto my chance.
PORTIA First, forward to the temple. After dinner
Your hazard47 shall be made.
MOROCCO Good fortune then!
To make me blest or cursed’st among men.
Cornets [and] exeunt
[Act 2 Scene 2]
running scene 5
Location: Venice
Enter the Clown [Lancelet] alone
LANCELET Certainly my conscience will serve1 me to run from
this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me,
saying to me, ‘Gobbo3, Lancelet Gobbo, good Lancelet’, or
‘Good Gobbo’, or ‘Good Lancelet Gobbo, use your legs, take the
start5, run away.’ My conscience says, ‘No; take heed, honest
Lancelet, take heed, honest Gobbo’, or, as aforesaid, ‘Honest
Lancelet Gobbo, do not run, scorn running with thy heels7.’
Well, the most courageous8 fiend bids me pack: ‘Fia!’ says the
fiend, ‘Away!’ says the fiend, ‘For the heavens9, rouse up a brave
mind’, says the fiend, ‘and run.’ Well, my conscience, hanging
about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, ‘My honest
friend Lancelet, being an honest12 man’s son’, or rather an
honest woman’s son—for indeed my father did something13
smack14, something grow to, he had a kind of taste—well, my
conscience says ‘Lancelet, budge not.’ ‘Budge’, says the fiend.
‘Budge not’, says my conscience. ‘Conscience,’ say I, ‘you