Full text of "Shakespeare's comedy of the Merchant of Venice;"

See other formats

. 3

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE.

After Faed.

SHAKESPEARE'S

COMEDY OF

THE MERCHANT OF" VENICE

. EDITED, WITH NOTES

BY
WILLIAM J. ROLFE, Lirr.D.

FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL
CAMBRIDGE, MASS.

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK •:• CINCINNATI •:• CHICAGO

AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY

MERCHANT OF VENICE.
K. P. 21

Horace l&otoartr jfurness

" THE DEAREST FRIEND TO ME, THE KINDEST MAN,

THE BEST-CONDITION'D AND UNWEARIED SPIRIT

IN DOING COURTESIES "

THIS BOOK AND THE EDITION OF SHAKESPEARE

WHICH IT INTRODUCES
ARE GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY

DEDICATED

W. J. R.

PREFACE

MY edition of The Merchant of Venice was first pub-
lished in 1870. It was the initial volume of the com-
plete'edition of Shakespeare's plays and poems, in forty
volumes, which was finished in 1883.

As I stated in the original preface, the book was
planned and nearly completed more than three years
earlier, but was laid aside for other work and not taken
up again until the summer .of 1870. Meanwhile the
notes had been used with classes in school and out of
school, and received such revision as was suggested by
that experience and by further study of Shakespeare.

When I began to prepare the book, Shakespeare was
just coming to be studied in the secondary schools.
Only a few annotated editions of single plays had been
published in England, and none, so far as I am aware,
in this country. Helps for the school study of Shake-
speare were few and expensive. The Cowden-Clarke
Concordance cost ten or twelve dollars. The first vol-
ume of Dr. Furness's " New Variorum " edition (Romeo
and Juliet') was published in 1871, but the second (Mac-
beth, the first of the plays commonly read in schools)
not until 1873. Critical commentaries on Shakespeare
were, as a rule, to be had only in costly English edi-
tions. High school libraries were few and small, and
public libraries, except in the larger cities, contained
but little Shakespearian literature. Few teachers in
secondary schools throughout the country were better
equipped than I was, some fifteen years earlier, when

8 Preface

the only Shakespeare I had was a one-volume edition
without notes, and my pupils had to use such editions
as they found at home or among their friends.

In editing this play, therefore, it was my aim, as I
said in the preface, to furnish " a pure text and the
notes needed for its thorough elucidation and illustra
tion." Having in mind the needs of the teacher as
well as the student, I preferred, in these notes, to err, if
at all, on the side of fullness. The book was favourably
received, but the publishers were surprised, as I was,
when the demand for similar editions of all the plays
generally read in schools and colleges was followed by
a call from the reading public for the rest of Shake-
speare's works in the same form.

The changes made now in revising the book have
been mainly due to the changes that have taken place
in the educational situation during the past thirty-five
years. For instance, I have omitted the greater part
of the notes on textual variations. This play, with most
of the others read in schools, is now among the twelve
plays that Dr. Furness has edited. No teacher can
afford to do without his encyclopedic volumes, in which
all the readings and notes of the early editions and of
the standard modern editions are epitomized, together
tvvith large extracts from the best commentaries and
much admirable criticism by Dr. Furness himself. The
textual readings, however, are for the average teacher
the least important part of the material in that monu-
mental edition. The text of Shakespeare is now virtu-
. ally settled. Many emendations have been proposed in
recent years, but those that have been generally ac-
cepted could be counted on the fingers of one hand,
with possibly a finger or two to spare. Scattered cruces,
due to the corruption of the earlier editions, still re-
main to perplex the critics, who will probably quarrel

Preface 9

over them to the end of time ; and to some of these,
as illustrations of an interesting but exasperating class
of Shakespearian problems, I make brief reference in
the present notes.

I have also omitted most of the " Critical Comments "
from the introduction, as the books from which they
were taken are now readily accessible in public and
school libraries. For these extracts I have substituted
familiar comments of my own, and have added more of
the same kind in the Appendix. A concise account of
Shakespeare's metre has also been inserted as an intro-
duction to the notes.

Minor changes have been made throughout the
notes. Some have been abridged or condensed, some
have been expanded, and new ones have been added
here and there. In very few instances, however, have
I found it necessary to make any radical alterations, as
the work of revision has been going on ever since the
book was published. It has been so often reprinted
that I have had opportunities every year — sometimes
several times in a year — for making the slight changes
and additions that seemed to be necessary or desirable.
In 1883, when line numbers were first inserted, new
plates were required, and the introduction and notes
were thoroughly revised. More than five pages were
added to the introduction, and about five more were
afterwards appended to the notes.

The present edition is, nevertheless, substantially a
new book, and many teachers will, I think, prefer it to
the old one. Both can be used, without serious incon-
venience, in the same class or club.

I may add that, in the revision, I have not been
inclined to insert the " Hints for Teachers " that are to
be found in some good school editions. The teacher
who does not need them must regard them as an imper-

io Freface

tinence. Those who do need them are, in my opinion,
quite as likely to misuse them as to profit by them. If
they are made full enough and explicit enough to be of
real service to the young and inexperienced teacher,
they should be printed in a separate booklet, like my
Elementary Study of English, which was prepared
mainly as a guide to the use of certain books for
younger students. I intend to prepare something of
the kind on the study of Shakespeare.

CONTENTS

PAGB

THE LIFE AND WORKS OF SHAKESPEARE . . , 13

INTRODUCTION TO THE MERCHANT OF VENICE . . .21

The History of the Play 21

The Sources of the Plot 23

Shakespeare and Italy 26

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE 35

Act I 37

Act II 56

Act III 84

Act IV no

ActV . .129

NOTES ..... 143

APPENDIX 207

Comments on Some of the Characters .... 207

The Law in the Trial Scene 227

The Time-Analysis of the Play 229

List of Characters in the Play . . . . . 230

INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED . . . 233

MONUMENT AT STRATFORD

JOHN SHAKESPEARE'S HOUSE IN HENLEY STREET

THE LIFE AND WORKS OF
SHAKESPEARE

His Life. — William Shakespeare was born at Strat-
ford-upon-Avon, in the county of Warwick, England, in
April, 1564. He was baptized on the 26th of April
(Old Style) ; and, as it was a common practice to christen
infants when three days old, the tradition which makes
his birthday the 23d (May 3, as dates are now reckoned)
is generally accepted. His father, John Shakespeare,
who had been a farmer in a neighbouring village, came
to Stratford about 1553, and adopted the trade of a
glover. His mother, Mary Arden, belonged to a younger
branch of a good old Warwickshire family, and inherited
a considerable estate from her father. John Shake-
speare was evidently shrewd, energetic, ambitious, and
public-spirited. He made money, and was popular with

14-

The Life and Works of

his fellow-townsmen. After passing through the lowef
grades of office, he was elected alderman, and in 1568
became high bailiff or mayor.

INNER COURT OF THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL, STRATFORD

Of a family of four sons and four daughters, William
was the third child, but the eldest son. When he was
seven years old, he was doubtless sent to the Stratford
grammar school, where he got all the regular schooling
he ever had. In 1582, when he was only eighteen, he
married Anne Hathaway, of the hamlet of Shottery, near

Shakespeare 1 5

Stratford, who was some eight years older than himself.
A daughter was born to him in 1583, and twins — a
boy and a girl — two years later. He had no other
children.

STRATFORD CHURCH

It was probably in the next year, 1586, that Shake-
speare went to London, where he became, first an actor,
then a writer for the stage. As an actor he seems to
have made no special mark, but as a writer he very soon
distinguished himself, and in a few years had won the
foremost rank among the dramatists of his time. In
1598, Francis Meres, in his Palladis Tamia, or Wifs

The Life and Works of

Treasury, speaks of him as " the most excellent among
the English for both kinds of tragedy and comedy."
His works not only became widely popular, but they
brought him special marks of favour and approval from
Queen Elizabeth and her successor, James, and gained

CHAPEL OF GUILD AND GRAMMAR SCHOOL

for him the patronage and friendship of some of the
most accomplished men of rank of that day.

But while thus prosperous and honoured in London,
Shakespeare continued to look upon Stratford as his
home. There he had left his wife and children, and
thither, after he had secured a competency, he returned
to spend the evening of his days. It was probably
about the year 1611 that he settled down in Stratford,

Shakespeare 17

at New Place, an estate purchased in 1597. His wife
was still living, and also his two daughters, of whom
the elder, Susanna, was married in June, 1607, to Dr.
John Hall, an eminent physician of the time. The
younger daughter, Judith, was married to Mr. Thomas
Quiney, a Stratford vintner, in February, 1616. Ham-
net, the poet's son, had died in 1596, in his twelfth year.

Shakespeare died at Stratford on the 23d of April,
1616, and was buried in the parish church.

The poet's family became extinct with his grand-
children. Elizabeth, the only child of the Halls, was
twice married, but had no offspring. Thomas and
Judith Quiney had three sons, one of whom died in
babyhood, the others at eighteen and twenty respec-
tively. Judith lived to the age of seventy-six, dying in
February, 1638. Lady Barnard (Elizabeth Hall) died
in February, 1669, at the age of sixty-one.

His Works. — The first work of Shakespeare which
was printed with his name was the poem of Venus and
Adonis, which appeared in 1593. In the dedication to
the Earl of Southampton the author styles it " the first
heir of his invention. " In 1 594, The Rape of Lucrece was
published. Both these poems were reprinted several
times in the poet's lifetime. His only other works,
besides the plays, are a few of the pieces in The Pas-
sionate Pilgrim (a small collection of poems, first printed
in 1599), and his Sonnets (154 in number), with a poem
entitled A Lovers Complaint, which appeared together
in 1609.

MER. OF YEN. — 2

The Life and Works of

The first edition of his collected dramatic works
contained all the plays generally included in modern
editions, with the exception of Pericles, and was pub-
lished in a folio volume, in 1623, or not till seven years
after his death. It was put forth by two of his friends

FIRESIDE.— KITCHEN OF HOUSE IN HENLEY STREET

and fellow-actors, John Heminge and Henrie Condell,
and the title-page declares it to be printed " according
to the true original copies." The preface also con-
demns all preceding editions of separate plays1 as

1 Eighteen of the plays are known to have been separately printed,
some of them more than once, in Shakespeare's lifetime. Othello was
also printed separately in 1622. All these editions are in quarto form;
and are commonly known as the old or early quartos.

Shakespeare 1 9

" stolen and surreptitious copies, maimed and deformed
by the frauds and stealths of injurious impostors," while
it claims that the publishers of this volume had the use
of the author's manuscripts. They probably had the
use of such of his papers as were in the possession of
the Blackfriars Theatre, to which they, like himself,
belonged. The volume, however, had no proper edit-
ing, and every page is disfigured by the grossest typo-
graphical errors. While it is the earliest and the only
authentic edition of the plays, it cannot be accepted as
anything like an infallible authority in all cases for
what Shakespeare actually wrote. The quartos, though
they were all piratical ventures, are of considerable
value in the correction of its errors and imperfections.

The volume just described is commonly known as
the " first folio." A second folio edition, including the
same plays, appeared in 1632. It contains some new
readings, which are probably nothing more than the
conjectural emendations of the unknown editor.

The third folio, a reprint of the second, with few
variations of any value or interest, was first published
in 1663. It was reissued the next year, with the addi-
tion of seven plays : Pericles •, The London Prodigal,
Thomas Lord Cromwell, Sir John Oldcastle, The Puritan
Widow, A Yorkshire Tragedy, and Locrine. Pericles is
the only one of these in which Shakespeare could have
had any hand.

A fourth and last folio was brought out in 1685. It
was a reprint of that of 1664 (including the seven plays

2O The Life and Works of Shakespeare

just mentioned), with the spelling somewhat modernized,
but few other changes.

These four folios were the only editions of the plays
brought out in the seventeenth century. The eigh-
teenth century produced a long succession of editors —
Rowe, Pope, Theobald, Hanmer, Warburton, Johnson,
Steevens, Capell, Reed, Malone, and Rann. In 1803
(2d edition, 1813) appeared what is known as Reed^s
Second Edition of Johnson and Steevens ', in twenty-one
volumes, in which were incorporated most of the notes
of the preceding editions. This was followed by the
Variorum of 1821 ', also in twenty-one volumes, mostly
prepared by Malone, but completed and carried through
the press by his friend Boswell. The most important
English editions of more recent date are those of
Knight, Collier, Singer, Staunton, Dyce, Clark and
Wright (the " Cambridge " edition), Charles and Mary
Cowden-Clarke, Halliwell-Phillipps, and Irving and
Marshall (the " Henry Irving " edition). Of American
editions the most noteworthy are Verplanck's (1847).
Hudson's (1855 and 1881), Grant White's (1857-1865
and 1883), and Furness's (" New Variorum " edition,
begun in 1871).

COLONNADE OF DUCAL PALACE, VENICE

INTRODUCTION TO THE MERCHANT
OF VENICE

THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY

The Merchant of Venice is the last on a list of Shake-
speare's plays given by Francis Meres in his Palladis
Tamia, 1598. In the same year it was entered as fol-
lows on the Register of the Stationers' Company : —

"22 Julii, 1598 James Robertes.] A booke of the
Marchaunt of Venyce, or otherwise called the Jewe of

22 The Merchant of Venice

Venyce. Provided that yt bee not prynted by the said
James Robertes, or anye other whatsoever, without
lycence first had from the Right honorable the lord
Chamberlen."

The company of players to which Shakespeare be-
longed, and for which he wrote, was " the Lord Cham-
berlain's Servants " ; and the above order was meant
to prohibit the publication of the play until the patron
of the company should give his permission. This he
appears not to have done until two years later, when
the following entry was made in the Register : —

" 28 Octobris, 1600, Thomas haies.] . . .the booke of
the merchant of Venyce."

Soon after this entry, or before the end of 1600, the
play was published by Heyes in quarto form; and
another edition, also in quarto, was issued the same
year by Roberts.

Philip Henslowe, a theatrical manager of the time>
in his Diary, in which he kept his accounts, with the
dates of plays that he brought out, etc. (a book of great
value to students of dramatic history), records, under
the date "25 of aguste, 1594," the performance of "the
Venesyon comodey," which is marked ne, as a new
play. Some critics take this to be The Merchant of
Venice, since the company of players to which Shake-
speare belonged was then acting at Henslowe 's theatre ;
but it is quite impossible that the play could have been
written as early as 1594. The more probable date is
1596 or 1597.

Introduction 23

THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT

In the plot of The Merchant of Venice two distinct
stories — that of the bond and that of the caskets — are
skilfully interwoven. Both are found in the Gesta Roma-
norum, a Latin collection of fictitious narratives, which
had been translated into English as early as the time of
Henry VI. It is probable, however, that Shakespeare
was indebted, directly or indirectly, for the incidents
connected with the bond to a story in // Pecorone, a
collection of tales by Giovanni Fiorentino, first pub-
lished at Milan in 1558, though written almost two
centuries earlier. In this story we have a rich lady
at Belmont, who is to be won on certain conditions of
a nature unsuited for dramatic purposes ; and she is
finally won by a young merchant, whose friend, having
become surety for him to a Jew under the same penalty
as in the play, is rescued by the adroitness of the mar-
ried lady, disguised as a lawyer. She receives, as in
the play, her marriage ring as a gratuity, and afterwards
banters her husband, as Portia does, upon the loss of it.
An English translation of the book was extant in Shake-
speare's time.

Possibly the dramatist was somewhat indebted to The
Orator, translated from the French of Alexander Sil-
vayn (London, 1596). Portions of the 95th Declama-
tion in this book are strikingly like some of Shylock's
speeches at the trial. It is doubtful whether the old
ballad of Gernutus, which some critics believe that

24 The Merchant of Venice

Shakespeare used, is earlier or later than the play;
but even if it was earlier, it is improbable that he
was indebted to it, or to sundry other versions of the
story, in prose or verse, which editors and commen-
tators have discovered.

There is good reason, however, to believe that the
bond and casket legends had been blended in dramatic
form before Shakespeare began to write for the stage.
Stephen Gosson, a Puritan author, in his Schoole of
Abuse (1579), excepts a few plays from the sweeping
condemnation of his " plesaunt invective against Poets,
Pipers, Plaiers, Jesters, and such-like caterpillers of a
Common welth." Among these exceptions he mentions
" The Jew, . . . representing the gree dines se of worldly
chusers, and the bloody minds of usurers" We have no
other knowledge of this play of The Jew ; but the
nationality of its hero and the double moral, agree-
ing so exactly with that of The Merchant of Venice,
render it probable that the plots of the two dramas
were essentially the same, and that Shakespeare, in
this instance as in others, worked upon some rough
model already prepared for him. The question, how-
ever, is not of great importance. " Be the merit of
the fable whose it may, the characters, the language,
the poetry, and the sentiment are his, and his alone.
To no other writer of the period could we be indebted
for the charming combination of womanly grace, and
dignity, and playfulness which is found in Portia ; for
the exquisite picture of friendship between Bassanio

Introduction 25

and Antonio ; for the profusion of poetic beauties scat-
tered over the play ; and for the masterly delineation
of that perfect type of Judaism in olden times, the
character of Shy lock himself " (Staunton).

Similarly, Mr. Grant White, after referring to Shake-
speare's indebtedness for the materials of his plot to
the old story-tellers, and probably for their combination
in dramatic form to an earlier playwright, asks : " What
then remains to Shakespeare? and what is there to
show that he is not a plagiarist? Everything that
makes The Merchant of Venice what it is. The people
are puppets, and the incidents are all in these old stories.
They are mere bundles of barren sticks that the poet's
touch causes to bloom like Aaron's rod ; they are heaps
of dry bones till he clothes them with human flesh and
breathes into them the breath of life. Antonio ', grave,
pensive, prudent save in his devotion to his young kins-
man, as a Christian hating the Jew, as a royal merchant
despising the usurer ; Bassanio, lavish yet provident, a
generous gentleman although a fortune-seeker, wise
although a gay gallant, and manly though dependent ;
Gratiano, who unites the not too common virtues of
thorough good nature and unselfishness with the some-
times not unserviceable fault of talking for talkvo sake ;
Shylock, crafty and cruel, whose revenge is as mean as
it is fierce and furious, whose abuse never rises to
invective, and who has yet some dignity of port a? the
avenger of a nation's wrongs, some claim upon our
sympathy as a father outraged by his only child ; and

26 The Merchant of Venice

Portia, matchless impersonation of that rare woman
who is gifted even more in intellect than loveliness, —
these, not to notice minor characters no less perfectly
organized or completely developed after their kind —
these, and the poetry which is their atmosphere, and
through which they beam upon us, all radiant in its
golden light, are Shakespeare's only ; and these it is,
and not the incidents of old and, but for these, forgotten
tales, that make The Merchant of Venice a priceless and
imperishable dower to the queenly city that sits en-
throned upon the sea — a dower of romance more
bewitching than that of her moonlit waters and beauty-
laden balconies, of adornment more splendid than that
of her pictured palaces, of human interest more endur-
ing than that of her blood-stained annals, more touching
even than the sight of her faded grandeur."

SHAKESPEARE AND ITALY

In As You Like It, Rosalind, bantering the affected
Jaques on having been in foreign lands and come home
only to " disable all the benefits of his own country and
be out of love with his nativity," says, " Look you lisp
and wear' strange suits, or I will scarce think you have
swam in a gondola." To have swam in a gondola was
to Rosalind — and to Shakespeare, we may say — the
typical achievement of a traveller ; and it may still be
so regarded. There is nothing else so novel in all one's
tourist experiences — nothing that so makes one feel

Introduction 27

his distance from his native land and all its ways and
habits.

If he comes by rail to Venice he finds the station
much like that in any other large city. He leaves
the train, goes with the crowd toward the 'door, steps
out into the open air — and into a new world, or rather
an old one, though new to him. It is a step from the
nineteenth century to the fifteenth. It seems for the
moment like magic. He looks back to see if the rail-
way station has not vanished into thin air ; and this
seems actually to have happened, for the handsome
front of the building might belong to any other structure
as well. He is in a small square on the bank of the
Grand Canal, where a whole fleet of gondolas is drawn
up, waiting for passengers like the hackney carriages
at one of our railway terminals. He jumps on board
one of them, gives the name of his hotel to the gondo-
lier, and is soon afloat on the marine Broadway of
Venice.

It is now that, swimming in a gondola, he really feels
the significance of Rosalind's allusion to it. And he is
not only in a strange land, but in a long-past age.
From the railway train to the gondola is from our land
to Venice, and from our day to Shakespeare's. There
is something in the noiseless, gliding motion of the
craft, especially in this sudden transition to it from
the clatter and jar and rush of the train, which adds
indescribably to the dreamy, delusive effect. Every-
thing around him is in keeping with the bewildering

28 The Merchant of Venice

enchantment Nothing distinctively modern is to be
seen on either hand. He has actually been transported
to an old world of history, poetry, and romance, of
which hitherto he has had only a vague idea. Soon
the gondola turns out of the Grand Canal into one of
the narrow canals that afford a short cut across its
immense curves, and he is in a stream only a few yards
wide, hemmed in by lofty time-worn walls — one of the
watery back alleys of the old city; but he emerges
upon the Grand Canal again near the Rialto Bridge.
The gondolier points it out, but it was not necessary ;
he could not possibly mistake it. Near the end of the
canal he reaches his hotel, fronting upon it. It is an
old palace — three or four hundred years old — but for
the most part so remodeled within that one could not
distinguish it from any modern hotel ; and our tourist
is back into the twentieth century again as the elevator
takes him to his room.

This may seem a long introduction, and rather in-
tended to air my memories of travel, in the manner of
our friend Jaques, than to lead up to my subject. I
have dwelt upon it as illustrating our entrance upon the
study of Shakespeare. In coming to Venice, I have
said, we enter upon an old world of history, poetry ?
and romance ; and to such a world of poetry and
romance and history does Shakespeare introduce us
— a world full of life and action, crowded with per-
sonages real and unreal, yet the latter none the less
real because they were born of the poet's brain — a

Introduction 29

world with its England and France, its Greece and
Italy, its London, Paris, Rome, and Venice, where we
may travel at will without stirring from our home fire-
side, and see and learn quite as much as some do who
have actually swam in a gondola.

I cannot but envy those to whom this Shakespearian
world is as yet a new and unknown world, to which
they come, as I did to Venice, at sunset of a lovely
April day, floating in a gondola on the Grand Canal
for the first time. They may return to it again and
again, as to Venice, and in some respects with in-
creased enjoyment; but there is something in the fas-
cination of that first experience which can never be
renewed.

England and Italy are preeminently the countries of
Shakespeare's plays. The scenes of fourteen of them
(including the historical plays) are laid wholly or partly
in England, and of eleven (including the Roman plays),
wholly or partly in Italy. I count The Tempest among
the latter because the characters are Italian, though the
scene is an island not put down in any prosaic manual
of geography. The other plays, twelve in number, are
scattered through various lands, — Greece, Illyria, Bohe-
mia, France, Sicily (not a part of Italy in Shakespeare's
day), Denmark, etc.

Some of these are mere names. The Illyria of
Twelfth Night and the Bohemia and Sicily of The
Winter's Tale, for instance, might be anywhere else.
In the Elizabethan age the theatres had no painted

30 The Merchant of Venice

scenery, and a sign or placard was often put up at
the back of the stage to indicate the locality, — Athens,
Rome, Venice, or whatever it might be. The sign was
the only aid to the spectator's imagination, which had
to furnish a local habitation for the name as best it
could. And so with the Messina of Much Ado, the
Vienna of Measure for Measure, the Ephesus of The,
Comedy of Errors, and the like. They are nothing
more than names stuck up on a stage without scenery.
Transpose these names from one play to another, and
it would make no difference except in the measure of
a few lines in which they occur.

But the Italian scenes are veritably Italian. In The
Two Gentlemen of Verona, indeed, this local tone is not
so marked, and the poet is guilty of the blunder of
sending a ship from Verona to Milan ; 1 but that is
one of the earliest plays of Shakespeare, and it is evi-
dent that he was not then so familiar with Italy as
when he wrote the later plays of which that country
is the scene.

And here the question arises, Did the poet visit
Italy ? Did he ever swim in a gondola ? It is not
impossible — though it seems to me, on the whole, im-
probable— that he may have done so. There are sev-
eral years of his life after he went to London about

1 It is said that there was a canal between the two cities when
Shakespeare wrote; but the allusions to the tide and to the danger
of shipwreck (i. I. 117, ii. 3. 36) prove that he had in mind a voyage
by sea.

Introduction 31

which we know absolutely nothing, and where he was
and what he was doing can be only matter of con-
jecture. Critics who have been in Italy, and some
who have long resided there, find it difficult to explain
his minute acquaintance with the manners of the coun-
try except on the theory that he had visited it. It
may be said that he got this knowledge from friends
who had traveled, as some of his fellow-actors are
known to have done ; but, on the other hand, it is
urged that such second-hand information could hardly
have made him so perfectly at home in Italy that he
never falls into any mistakes, even in those little mat-
ters which are rarely noted in books of travel or talked
about by tourists.

In The Merchant of Venice, for instance (ii. 2), Old
Gobbo brings .a present of a " dish of doves " for
Launcelot's master. " Where," asks Mr. Charles A.
Brown (Shakespeare's Autobiographical Poems, 1858),
" did the poet obtain his numerous graphic touches of
national manners ? Where did he learn of an old vil-
lager's coming into the city with a dish of doves as a
present to his son's master? A present thus given,
and of doves, is not uncommon in Italy. I myself
have partaken there, with due relish, in memory of
poor old Gobbo, of a dish of doves presented by the
father of a servant." The Taming of the Shrew has
many of these little Italian touches, and they are to
be found in other of the Italian plays.

In The Merchant of Venice the very atmosphere is

32 The Merchant of Venice

Italian. In the charming fifth act, which is so refresh-
ing and restful to our feelings after the almost tragic
interest of the trial scene, like the calm and repose of
a beautiful moonlit evening after the exhaustion of an
anxious and exciting day, Portia says : —

"This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick;
It looks a little paler : 'tis a day
Such as the day is when the sun is hid."

There is no such moonlight in England; but there is
in Italy — as in New England, where we have skies as
blue and clear as bend over Venice or Florence or
Naples. To one going from England to Italy the
difference in the transparency of the atmosphere is
as striking as that in the climate or the vegetation.

But, whether Shakespeare was ever in Italy in bodily
presence, or saw its cities and its people, its skies and
its moonlight, only with the mind's eye, he takes us to
the real Italy in his plays, and not to a theatrical cari-
cature of the country. As some critic has said, the
merchant of Venice is a merchant of no other city in
the world ; and it may be added that everything in the
play is equally Venetian. And yet the strictly topo-
graphical allusions are only one or two. The Rialto
is mentioned, but it should be understood that it is
not the bridge so called, but the merchants' exchange,
which was on the Rialto, one of the islands on which
the city was built, and originally its political and com-
mercial centre. The bridge, one end of which is on

Introduction 33

this island (whence it gets its name), was begun in
1588 and finished in 1591, or several years before the
earliest date ascribed to the play. The exchange was
held in the open place in front of the church of San
Giacomo, a little way from the bridge. No merchants,
except humble dealers in fruit and vegetables, congre-
gate there now, and the locality has a thoroughly ple-
beian character ; but in the olden time it was thronged
by the Shylocks and Antonios, and their patrons and cus-
tomers, during the business hours of the day. Thomas
Coryat, in his Crudities, published in 1611, says : " The
Rialto, which is at the farthest side of the bridge, as
you come from St. Marks, is a most stately building,
being the Exchange of Venice, where the Venetian gen-
tlemen and the merchants doe meete twice a day, betwixt
eleven and twelve of the clocke in the morning, and
betwixt five and sixe of the clocke in the afternoone.
This Rialto is of a goodly height, . . . adorned with
many faire walkes or open galleries, . . . and hath a
pretty quadrangular court adjoining to it." Fynes Mory-
son, in his Ten Yeares Travell (1617), describes it thus :
" The foure square market-place of Rialto is compassed
with publike houses, under the arches whereof, and in
the middle part lying open, the merchants meet." Archi-
tecturally it remains the same to-day, — an open square
surrounded by the arcaded buildings (like St. Mark's
Place, on a smaller scale) erected in the early part of
the sixteenth century. Near one corner of the square
>s a short column of Egyptian granite, supported by a

MER. OF VEN. — 3

34 The Merchant of Venice

kneeling hunchback (" II Gobbo di Rialto," also of the
sixteenth century), from which the laws of the Republic
were promulgated.

Perhaps the only other local allusion in the play,
aside from the mention of gondolas, is that to " the
common ferry that trades to Venice," which recognizes
the insular position of the city, connected with the main-
land only by ferries, as it continued to be until the
building of the railway bridge in 1845. But we feel
that we are in Venice all the time — Venice in the old
days of its power and wealth, when the argosies of the
world thronged its port, and, as Antonio says, " the
trade and profit of the city consisted of all nations."
It is no absurdity that suitors, not only from all parts
of Italy, but from France, England, Scotland, Germany,
Spain, and Morocco, are made to come as rivals for the
hand of Portia, — so many Jasons in quest of the golden
fleece at Belmont.

The mention of the ferry to Venice indicates that
Shakespeare supposed Belmont to be on the mainland,
though he probably had no definite locality in mind.
We may imagine it to have been in the country west-
ward of Venice, where there were then, as now, many
villas of the Venetian nobility. This is on the direct
road to Padua, about halfway between that city and
Venice, which is twenty-two miles from Padua by the
present railway, or twenty-six by steam tramway to
Fusina and steamer from there (probably the termi-
nus of the ancient ferry) to Venice.

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE

DRAMATIS PERSONS

THE DUKE OF VENICE

THE PRINCE OF MOROCCO, | .. . « t,

THE PRINCE OF ARRAGON, f smtors to Portia-

ANTONIO, the Merchant of Venice.

BASSANIO, his friend.

SALANIO, \

SALARINO, > friends to Antonio and Bassanio.

GRATIANO, )

LORENZO, in love with Jessica.

SHYLOCK, a Jew.

TUBAL, a Jew, his friend.

LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a clown.

OLD GOBBO, father to tauncelot.

SALERIO, a messenger.

LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio.

PORTIA, a rich heiress.
NERISSA, her waiting-maid.
JESSICA, daughter to Shy lock.

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Jus-
tice, Gaoler, Servants, and other Attendants.

SCENE : Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont.

ST. MARK'S PLACE

ACT I

SCENE I. Venice. A Street

Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO

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 't is 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.

Salarino. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There where your argosies with portly sail,
Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,

38 The Merchant of Venice [Acti

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.

Salanio. 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 20

Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me sad.

Salarino. My wind, cooling my broth,

Would blow me to an ague when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
I should not see the sandy hourglass run
But I should think of shallows and of flats,
And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd 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, 30

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 bechanc'd would make me sad?

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 39

But tell not me ; I know Antonio

Is sad to think upon his merchandise. 40

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.

Salarino. Why, then you are in love.

Antonio. Fie, fie !

Salarino. Not in love neither? Then let us say

you 're sad

Because you are not merry ; and 't were as easy
For you to laugh and leap, and say you 're merry
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time : 51

Some that will evermore peep through their eyes
And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper ;
And other of such vinegar aspect
That they '11 not show their teeth in way of smile,
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO

Salanio. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble

kinsman,

Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well ;
We leave you now with better company.

Salarino. I would have stay'd till I had made you
merry > 60

If worthier friends had not prevented me.

4<D The Merchant of Venice [Act I

Antonio. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
I take it, your own business calls on you,
And you embrace the occasion to depart.

Salarino. Good morrow, my good lords.

Bassanio. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh ?

Say, when ?
You grow exceeding strange ; must it be so?

Salarino. We '11. make our leisures to attend on yours.
\Exeunt Salarino and Salanio.

Lorenzo. My Lord Bassanio, since you Ve found

Antonio,

We two will leave you ; but at dinner-time, jo

I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.

Bassanio. I will not fail you.

Gratiano. You look not well, Signior Antonio.
You have too much respect upon the world ;
They lose it that do buy it with much care.
Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.

Antonio. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,
A stage where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.

Gratiano. Let me play the fool ;

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, 80

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, —

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 41

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 wilful stillness entertain, 90

With purpose to be dress'd 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 ! '

0 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 ; 100

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.

Lorenzo. Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time.

1 must be one of these same dumb wise men,
For Gratiano never lets me speak.

Gratiano. Well, keep me company but two years moe,
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
Antonio. Farewell ; I'll grow a talker for this gear.
Gratiano. Thanks, i' faith ; for silence is only com-
mendable in
In a neat's tongue dried.

\Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo.
Antonio. Is that any thing now ?

42 The Merchant of Venice [Act I

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.

Antonio. Well, tell me now, what lady is the same
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, 120

That you to-day promis'd to tell me of?

Bassanio. JT is 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 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,
Hath left me gag'd. To you, Antonio, 130

I owe the most, in money and in love ;
And from your love I have a warranty
To unburthen all my plots and purposes,
How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

Antonio. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it ;
And if it stand, as you yourself still do,
Within the eye of honour, be assur'd,
My purse, my person, my extremest means,
Lie all unlocked to your occasions.

Bassanio. In my school days, when I had lost one
shaft, 140

I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 43

The selfsame way, with more advised 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 wilful 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 150

Or bring your latter hazard back again,

And thankfully rest debtor for the first.

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 prest unto it ; therefore speak. 160

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
Renowned suitors ; and her sunny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece, 170

44 The Merchant of Venice [Act I

Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand,
And many Jasons come in quest of her.

0 my Antonio, had I but the means
To hold a rival place with one of them,

1 have a mind presages me such thrift
That I should questionless be fortunate.

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. 180

That shall be rack'd, 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. \_Exeunt.

SCENE II. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House
Enter PORTIA and NERISSA

Portia. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is
aweary of this great world.

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.

Portia. Good sentences, and well pronounced. 10

Scene HJ The Merchant of Venice 45

Nerissa. They would be better if well followed.

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 fol-
lows 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 20
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?

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 30
meaning chooses you — will, no doubt, never be
chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly
love. But what warmth is there in your affection
towards any of these princely suitors that are already
come?

Portia. I pray thee, over-name them, and as thou
namest them I will describe them; and, according
to my description, level at my affection.
. Nerissa. First, there is the Neapolitan prince.

46 The Merchant of Venice [Act I

Portia. Ay, that 's a colt indeed, for he doth 40
nothing but talk of his horse ; and he makes it a
great appropriation to his own good parts that he can
shoe him himself.

Nerissa. Then is there the County 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 to be married to a death's-head with a bone 5°
in his mouth than to either oi these. God defend
me from these two !

Nerissa. How say you by the French lord, Mon-
sieur Le Bon ?

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 thap
the Count Palatine. He is every man in no man ;
if a throstle sing, he falls straight a-capering; he 60
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.

Nerissa. What say you then to Falconbridge, the
young baron of England ?

Portia. You know I say nothing to him, for he
understands not me, nor I him; he hath neither

Scene II] The Merchant of Venice 47

Latin, French, nor Italian, and you will come into
the court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth 7°
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 behaviour every where.

Nerissa. What think you of the Scottish lord, his
neighbour ?

Portia. That he hath a neighbourly charity in
him ; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the English-
man, and swore he would pay him again when he 80
was able. I think the Frenchman became his surety
and sealed under for another.

Nerissa. How like you the young German, the
Duke of Saxony'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 beast. An the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I
shall make shift to go without him. 90

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.

Portia. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray
thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the con-
trary casket; for if the devil be within and ttiat
temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will

48 The Merchant of Venice [Act 1

do any thing, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a
sponge.

Nerissa. You need not fear, lady, the having any 100
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.

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 no
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 Mont-
ferrat ?

Portia. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio ; as I think, so
was he called.

Nerissa. True, madam ; he, of all the men that
ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best
deserving a fair lady. 120

Portia. I remember him well, and I remember
him worthy of thy praise.

Enter a Servant

Servant. The four strangers seek for you, madam,
to take their leave ; and there is a forerunner come

Scene ill] The Merchant of Venice 49

from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings word
the prince his master will be here to-night.

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 con-
dition of a saint and the complexion of a devil, I had 13°
rather he should shrive me than wive me.
Come, Nerissa. — Sirrah, go before. —
Whiles we shut the gates upon one wooer, another
knocks at the door. \Exeunt.

SCENE III. Venice. A Public Place
Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK

Shylock. Three thousand ducats, — well.

Bassanio. Ay, sir, for three months.

Shylock. For three months, — well.

Bassanio. For the which, as I told you, Antonio
shall be bound.

Shylock. Antonio shall become bound, — well.

Bassanio. May you stead me ? Will you pleasure
me ? Shall I know your answer ?

Shylock. Three thousand ducats for three months,
and Antonio bound. 10

Bassanio. Your answer to that.

Shylock. Antonio is a good man.

Bassanio. Have you heard any imputation to the
contrary ?

Shylock. Ho, no, no, no, no ; my meaning, in say-

MER. OF YEN. — 4

50 The Merchant of Venice [Act I

ing he is a good man, is to have you understand me
that he is sufficient. Yet his means are in supposi-
tion : 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 Eng- 20
land, and other ventures he hath, squandered abroad.
But ships are but boards, sailors but men : there
be land-rats and water-rats, land-thieves and water-
thieves, — I mean pirates; and then there is the
peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, not-
withstanding, sufficient. Three thousand ducats, —
I think I may take his bond.

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 3*
Antonio ?

Bassanio. If it please you to dine with us.

Shylock. Yes, to smell pork ; to eat of the habita-
tion 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

Bassanio. This is Signior Antonio. 40

Shylock. \Aside\ How like a fawning publican he

looks 1
I hate him for he is a Christian,

Scene in] The Merchant of Venice . 51

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 natipn ; and he rails,

Even there where merchants most do congregate,

On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, 50

Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe

If I forgive him 1

Bassanio. Shylock, do you hear ?

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

signior ;
Your worship was the last man in our mouths. 6n

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 '11 break a custom. — Is he yet possess'd
How much you would ?

Shylock. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.

Antonio. And for three months.

Shylock. I had forgot, — three months ; you told me so.
Well then, your bond ; and let me see — but hear you :

52 The Merchant of Venice [Act i

Methought you said you neither lend nor borrow
Upon advantage.

Antonio. I do never use it. 70

Shylock. When Jacob graz'd 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 —

Antonio. And what of him ? did he take interest ?

Shylock. No, not take interest, not, as you would say,
Directly interest ; mark what Jacob did.
When Laban and himself were compromis'd
That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied
Should fall as Jacob's hire, So

The skilful shepherd pill'd me certain wands
And stuck them up before the fulsome ewes,
Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time
Fall parti-colour 'd lambs ; and those were Jacob's.
This was a way to thrive, and he was blest ;
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.

Antonio. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob served for ;
A thing- not in his power to bring to pass,
But sway'd and fashion 'd byvthe hand of heaven.
Was this inserted to make interest good ? 90

Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams ?

Shy lock. 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.

Scene III] The Merchant of Venice 53

An evil soul, producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath I

Shylock. Three thousand ducats, — 't is a good round

sum. 99

Three months from twelve, — then, let me see the rate.

Antonio. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?

Shy lock. Signior 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, cut-throat dog,
And spet upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which js mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help. no

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,

1 Hath a dog money ? Is it possible

A cur should lend three thousand ducats ? ' Or

Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,

With bated breath and whispering humbleness, 120

Say this :

* Fair sir, you spet on me on Wednesday last ;

54 The Merchant of Venice [Act i

You spurn'd me such a day ; another time
You -call'd me dog ; and for these courtesies
I '11 lend you thus much moneys ? '

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 of barren metal of his friend ? 130

But lend it rather to thine enemy,
Who if he break, thou mayst with better face
Exact the penalty.

Shy lock. Why, look you, how you storm I

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 dou
Of usance for my moneys, and you '11 not hear me.
This is kind I offer.

Bassanio. This were kindness.

Shylock. This kindness will I show.

Go with me to a notary ; seal me there 140

Your single bond ; and, in a merry sport,
If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum or sums as are
Express 'd in the condition, let the forfeit
Be nominated for an equal pound
Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body pleaseth me.

Antonio. Content, i' faith ; I '11 seal to srch a bond,
And say there 's much kindness in the JVw 149

Scene ill] The Merchant of Venice 55

Bassanio. You shall not seal to such a bond for me ;
I '11 rather dwell 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 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 ? 160

A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man,
Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say,
To buy his favour I extend this friendship.
If he will take it, so ; if not, adieu ;
And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not.

Antonio. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.

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, 170

See to my house, left in the fearful guard
Of an unthrifty knave, and presently
I will be with you. [Exit.

Antonio. Hie thee, gentle Jew. —

The Hebrew will turn Christian ; he grows kind.

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.

VENICE

ACT II

SCENE I. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House

Flourish of Cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF MOROCCO
and his train ; PORTIA, NERISSA, and others
attending.,

Morocco. Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun,
To whom I am a neighbour and near bred.
Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
And let us make incision for your love,
To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine
Hath fear'd the valiant ; by my love, I swear
The best-regarded virgins of our clime IQ

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 57

Have lov'd it too. I would not change this hue,
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.

Portia. In terms of choice I am not solely led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes ;
Besides) the lottery of my destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing ;
But if my father had not scanted me,
And hedg'd me by his wit, to yield myself
His wife who wins me by that means I told you,
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair 20

As any comer I have look'd on yet,
For my affection.

Morocco. Even for that I thank you ;

Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets
To try my fortune. By ;this scimitar,
That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,
I would o'er-stare 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, 3c

To win thee, lady. But, alas the while !
If Hercules and Lichas play at dice
Which is the better man, the greater throw
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand.
So is Alcides beaten by his page ;
And so may I, blind Fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.

58 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

Portia. You must take your chance,

And either not attempt to choose at all.
Or swear, before you choose, if you choose wrong 40
Never to speak to lady afterward
In way of marriage ; therefore be advis'd.

Morocco. Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my
chance.

Portia. First, forward to the temple ; after dinner
Your hazard shall be made.

Morocco. Good fortune then,

To make me blest or cursed 'st among men !

[Cornets^ and exeunt.

SCENE II. Venice. A Street
Enter LAUNCELOT

Launcelot. Certainly my conscience will serve me
to run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine
elbow and tempts me, saying to me, ' Gobbo, Launce-
lot Gobbo, good Launcelot,' or 'good Gobbo,' or
' good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start,
run away.' My conscience says, ' No ; take heed,
honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo,' or, as
aforesaid, ' honest Launcelot Gobbo ; do not run ;
scorn running with thy heels.' Well, the most cour-
ageous fiend bids me pack : ' Via ! ' says the fiend ; 10
1 away ! ' says the fiend ; l for the heavens, rouse up
a brave mind,' says the fiend, ' and run.' Well, my

Scene II] The Merchant of Venice 59

conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart,
says very wisely to me, ' My honest friend Launce-
lot, being an honest man's son,' — or rather an
honest woman's son, — well, my conscience says,
1 Launcelot, budge not,' * Budge,' says the fiend.
1 Budge not,' says my conscience. ' Conscience,'
say I, 'you counsel well;' ' Fiend,' say I, 'you
counsel well.' To be ruled by my conscience, 1 20
should stay with the Jew my master, who, God bless
the mark, is a kind of devil ; and, to run away from
the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving
your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly the
- Jew is the very devil incarnation ; and, in my con-
science, my conscience is a kind of hard conscience,
to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The
fiend gives the more friendly counsel. I will run,
fiend ; my heels are at your commandment ; I will

run. 30

Enter Old GOBBO, with a basket

Gobbo. Master young man, you ! I pray you,
which is the way to master Jew's ?

Launcelot. \Aside~\ O heavens! this is my true-
begotten father, who, being more than sand-blind,
' high-gravel-blind, knows me not. — I will try con-
fusions with him.

Gobbo. Master young gentleman, I pray you,
which is the way to master Jew's ?

Launcelot. Turn up on your right hand at the next
turning, but at the next turning of all, on your left ; 40

60 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but
turn down indirectly to the Jew's house.

Gobbo. By God's sonties, 't will be a hard way to
hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that
dwells with him, dwell with him or no ?

Launcelot. Talk you of young Master Launcelot?

— [Aside] Mark me now ; now will I raise the
waters. — [To him] Talk you of young Master
Launcelot ?

Gobbo. No master, sir, but a poor man's son ; his 50
father, though I say 't, is an honest exceeding poor
man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

Launeelot. Well, let his father be what a' will, we
talk of young Master Launcelot.

Gobbo. Your worship's friend and Launcelot.

Launcelot. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I
beseech you, talk you of young Master Launcelot ?

Gobbo. Of Launcelot, an 't please your mastership.

Launcelot. Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of
Master Launcelot, father ; for the young gentleman 60

— according to fates and destinies and such odd
sayings, the sisters three and such branches of learn-
ing— is indeed deceased, or, as you would say in
plain terms, gone to heaven.

Gobbo. Marry, God forbid ! the boy was the very
staff of my age, my very prop.

Launcelot. [Aside] Do I look like a cudgel or a
hovel-post, a staff or a prop ? [To him] Do you know
me, father?

Scene II] The Merchant of Venice 61

Gobbo. Alack the day ! I know you not, young 70
gentleman; but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy —
God rest his soul ! — alive or dead ?

Launcelot. Do you not know me, father ?

Gobbo. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind ; I know you
not.

Launcelot. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you
might fail of the knowing me ; it is a wise father that
knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you
news of your son. [Kneels.] Give me your bless-
ing : truth will come to light ; murther cannot be 80
hid long; a man's son may, but in the end truth
will out

Gobbo. Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you
are not Launcelot, my boy.

Launcelot. Pray you, let's have no more fooling
about it, but give me your blessing ; I am Launcelot,
your boy that was, your son that is, your child that
shall be.

Gobbo. I cannot think you are my son.

Launcelot. I know not what I shall think of that ; 90
but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man, and I am sure
Margery your wife is my mother.

Gobbo. Her name is Margery, indeed; I '11 be
sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh
and blood. Lord worshipped might he be! what a
beard hast thou got ! thou hast got more hair on thy
chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.

Launcelot. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail

62 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

grows backward ; I am sure he had more hair of his
tail than I have of my face, when I last saw him. 100

Gobbo. Lord ! how art thou changed ! How dost
thou and thy master agree ? I have brought him a
present. How gree you now ?

Launcelot. Well, well ; but, for mine own part, as
I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest
till I have run sonte ground. My master's a very
Jew ; give him a present ! give him a halter. I am
famished in his service ; you may tell every finger I
have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come.
Give me your present to one Master Bassanio, who no
indeed gives rare new liveries ; if I serve not him, I
will run as far as God has any ground. — O rare
fortune! here comes the man. — To him, father;
for I am a Jew if I serve the Jew any longer.

Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO and other followers

Bassanio. You may do so ; but let it be so hasted
that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the
clock. See these letters delivered ; put the liveries
tc making, and desire Gratiano to come anon to
my lodging. [Exit a Servant.

Launcelot. To him, father. *2o

Gobbo. God bless your worship !

Bassanio. Gramercy ! wouldst thou aught with me ?

Gobbo. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy, —

Launcelot. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's
man ; that would, sir, as my father shall specify, —

Scene II] The Merchant of Venice 63

Gobbo. He hath a great infection, sir, as one
would say, to serve —

Launcelot. Indeed, the short and the long is, I
serve the Jew, and have a desire, as my father shall
specify, — 130

Gobbo. His master and he, saving your worship's
reverence, are scarce cater-cousins —

Launcelot. To be brief, the very truth is, that the
Jew, having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my
father, being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify unto
you,—

Gobbo. I have here a dish of doves that I would
bestow upon your worship; and my suit is —

Launcelot. In very brief, the suit is impertinent v
to myself, as your worship shall know by this honest 140
old man ; and, though I say it, though old man, yet,
poor man, my father.

Bassanio. One speak for both. — What would you ?

Launcelot. Serve you, sir.

Gobbo. That is the very defect of the matter, sir.

Bassanio. I know thee well; thog hast obtain 'd

thy suit.

Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,
And hath preferr'd thee ; if it be preferment
To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
The follower of so poor a gentleman. 150

Launcelot. The old proverb is very well parted
between my master Shylock and you, sir ; you have
the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough.

64 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

Bassanio. Thou speak'st it well. — Go, father,

with thy son. —

Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
My lodging out. — Give him a livery \To his followers \
More guarded than his fellows' ; see it done.

Launcelot. Father, in. — I cannot get a service, no ;
I have ne'er a tongue in my head. — Well, if any
man in Italy have a fairer table which doth offer 160
to swear upon a book ! — I shall have good fortune.

— Go to, here's a simple line of life 1 here's a small
trifle of wives : alas ! fifteen wives is nothing ! aleven
widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in for one
man ; and then to scape drowning thrice, and to be
in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed,

— here are simple scapes. Well, if Fortune be a
woman, she 's a good wench for this gear. — Father,
come ; I '11 take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling
of an eye. [Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo.

Bassanio. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on

this. 171

These things being bought and orderly bestow'd,
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
My best-esteem 'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.

Leonardo. My best endeavours shall be done
herein.

Enter GRATIANO

Gratiano. Where is your master ?

Leonardo. Yonder, sir, he walks. \Exit,

Gratiano. Signior Bassanio I

Scene ii] The Merchant of Venice 65

Bassanio. Gratiano I

Gratiano. I have a suit to you.

Bassanio. You have obtained it.

Gratiano. You must not deny me. I must goiSo
with you to Belmont.

Bassanio. Why, then you must. But hear thee,

Gratiano :

Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice, —
Parts that become thee happily enough
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults ;
But where they are not known, why, there they show
Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behaviour
I be misconstrued in the place I go to, 190

And lose my hopes.

Gratiano. Signior Bassanio, hear me :

If I do not put on a sober habit,
Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely,
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say ' amen/
Use all the observance of civility,
Like one well studied in a sad ostent
To please his grandam, never trust me more.

Bassanio. Well, we shall see your bearing. 200

Gratiano. Nay, but I bar to-night ; you shall not

gauge me
By what we do to-night.

MER. OF YEN. — 5

66 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

Bassanio. No, that were pity ;

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

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

SCENE III. The Same. A Room in Shyloctfs House
Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT

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

Launcelot. Adieu ! tears exhibit my tongue. Most 10
beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew, adieu ! these fool-
ish drops do somewhat drown my manly spirit;
adieu !

Jessica. Farewell, good Launcelot. —

[Exit Launcelot.

Alack, whar heinous sin is it in me
To be asham'd to be my father's child !
But though I am a daughter to his blood,

Scene IV] The Merchant of Venice 67

I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,

If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,

Become a Christian and thy loving wife ! \Exit. 20

SCENE IV. The Same. A Street
Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO

Lorenzo. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time,
Disguise us at my lodging, and return,
All in an hour.

Gratiano. We have not made good preparation.
Salarino. We have not spoke us yet of torch-
bearers.
Salanio. 'T is vile unless it may be quaintly

order'd,
And better, in my mind, not undertook.

Lorenzo. 'T is now but four o'clock ; we have two

hours
To furnish us,, —

Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter

Friend Launcelot, what 's the news ?
Launcelot. An it shall please you to break up 10
this, it shall seem to signify.

Lorenzo. I know the hand. In faith, \ is a fair

hand ;

And whiter than the paper it writ on
Is the fair hand that writ

68 The Merchant of Venice [Act II

Gratiano. Love-news, in faith.

Launcelot. By your leave, sir.

Lorenzo. Whither goest thou ?

Launcelot. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the
Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian.

Lorenzo. Hold here, take this. — Tell gentle Jessica
I will not fail her ; — speak it privately. 20

Go. — Gentlemen, \Exit Launcelot.

Will you prepare you for this masque to-night ?
I am provided of a torch-bearer.

Salarino. Ay, marry, I '11 be gone about it straight

Salanio. And so will I.

Lorenzo. Meet me and Gratiano

At Gratiano 's lodging some hour hence.

Salarino. 'T is good we do so.

\Exeunt Salarino and Salanio.

Gratiano. Was not that letter from fair Jessica ?

Lorenzo. I must needs tell thee all. She hath

directed

How I shall take her from her father's house, 30

What gold and jewels she is furnish 'd with,
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake ;
And never dare Misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,
That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
Come, go with me ; peruse this as thou goest.
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. \Exeunt.

Scene V] The Merchant of Venice 69

SCENE V. The Same. Before ShylocVs House
Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT

Sky lock. Well, thou shalt see ; thy eyes shall be

thy judge,

The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio. —
What, Jessica ! — thou shalt not gormandize,
As thou hast done with me, — what, Jessica ! —
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out —
Why, Jessica, I say 1

Launcelot. Why, Jessica !

Shylock. Who bids thee call ? I do not bid thee
call.

Launcelot. Your worship was wont to tell me I
could do nothing without bidding.

Enter JESSICA

Jessica. Call you ? what is your will ? 10

Shylock. I am bid forth to supper. Jessica ;
There are my keys. — But wherefore should I go ?
I am not bid for love, they flatter me ;
But yet I '11 go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian. — Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. — I am right loath to go ;
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Launcelot. I beseech you, sir, go ; my young
master doth expect your reproach. 20

Shylock. So d*> I his.

70 The Merchant of Venice [Act II

Launcelot. And they have conspired together ; —
I will not say you shall see a masque ; but'if you do,
then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleed-
ing.on Black-Monday last at six o'clock i' the morn-
ing, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four
year in the afternoon.

Shylock. What ! are there masques ? — Hear you

me, Jessica :

Lock up my doors ; and when you hear the drum
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife, 30

Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish 'd faces,
But stop my house's ears, — I mean my casements ;
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house. — By Jacob's staff, I swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night ;
But I will go. — Go you before me, sirrah ;
Say I will come.

Launcelot. I will go before, sir. — Mistress, look ou\
at window, for all this : 41

There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit.

Shylock. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, har

Jessica. His words were * Farewell, mistress ; ' noth-
ing else.

Shylock. The patch is kind enough, but a huge

feeder ;
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day

Scene vi] The Merchant of Venice 71

More than the wild-cat. Drones hive not with me ;

Therefore I part with him, and part with him

To one that I would have him help to waste 50

His borrow'd purse. — Well, Jessica, go in ;

Perhaps I will return immediately.

Do as I bid you ; shut doors after you.

Fast bind, fast find ;

A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit.

Jessica. Farewell ; and if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit.

SCENE VI. The Same
Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued

Gratiano. This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo
Desir'd us to make stand.

Salarino. His hour is almost past.

Gratiano. And it is marvel he outd wells his hour, .
For lovers ever run before the clock.

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

Gratiano. That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down ?
Where is the horse that doth untread again 10

His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first ? All things that are
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younger or a prodigal,

72 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind !
How like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather 'd ribs and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind !

Salarino. Here comes Lorenzo. — More of this
hereafter. , 2o

Enter LORENZO

Lorenzo. Sweet friends, your patience for my long

abode ;

Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait. v
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I '11 watch as long for you then. — Approach ;
Here dwells my father Jew. — Ho ! who 's within ?

Enter JESSICA, above, in boy's clothes

Jessica. Who are you ? Tell me, for more certainty,
Albeit I '11 swear that I do know your tongue.

'Lorenzo. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jessica. Lorenzo, certain ; and my love indeed,
For who love I so much ? And now who knows 30
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours ?

Lorenzo. Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that
thou art.

Jessica. Here, catch this casket ; it is worth the pains.
I am glad \ is night, you do not look on me,
For I am much asham'd of my exchange.
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see

Scene vi] The Merchant of Venice 73

The pretty follies that themselves commit ;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Lorenzo. Descend, for you must be my torch-
bearer. 40

Jessica. What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, 'good sooth, are too-too light.
Why, 't is an office of discovery, love,
And I should be obscur'd.

Lorenzo. So are you, sweet,

Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once ;

( For the close night doth play the runaway,
Antt we are stay'd for at Bassanio's feast.

Jessica. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With some more ducats, and be with you straight. 50

[Exit above.

Gratiano. Now, by my hood, a Gentile and no Jew.

Lorenzo. Beshrew me but I love her heartily 1
For she is wise, if I can judge of her ;
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true ;
And true she is, as she hath prov'd herself ;
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul. —

Enter JESSICA, below

What, art thou come ? — On, gentlemen ; away I
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.

[Exit with Jessica and Salarino*

74 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

Enter ANTONIO

Antonio. Who 's there ? 60

Gratiano. Signior Antonio !

Antonio. Fie, fie, Gratiano ! where are all the rest?
'T is nine o'clock ; our friends all stay for you.
No masque to-night : the wind is come about ;
Bassanio presently will go aboard.
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gratiano. I am glad on 't ; I desire no more delight
Than to be under sail and gone to-night. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII. Belmont. ,A- Room in Portia's House

Flourish of cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the PRINCE OF
MOROCCO, and their trains

Portia. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince. —
Now make your choice.

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 ? 10

Portia. The one of them contains my picture, prince ;
If you choose that, then I am yours withal.

Morocco. Some god direct my judgment ! Let me see ;

Scene VII] The Merchant of Venice 75

I will survey the 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 ; 20

I '11 then jior give nor hazard aught for lead.

What says the silver with her virgin hue ?

' 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 be'st 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. 30

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 stray'd no further, but chose here ? —

Let 's see once more this saying grav'd 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. 40

The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds

Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now

76 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

For princes to come view fair Portia.
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spets 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 ? 'T were damnation
To think so base a thought ; it were too gross 50

To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think in silver she 's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalued to tried gold ?
O sinful thought 1 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 insculp'd upon ;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within. — Deliver me the key ;
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may 1 60

Portia. There, take it, prince ; and if my form lie

there,
Then I am yours. \He unlocks the golden casket,

Morocco. O hell ! what have we here ?

A carrion death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll ! I '11 read the writing.

'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 infold.

hcene viii] The Merchant of Venice 77

Had you been as wise as bold, 70

Young in limbs, in judgment old.
Your answer had not been inscrolVd:
Fare you well ; your suit is cold.'
Cold, indeed, and labour lost ;
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost I
Portia, adieu ! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave ; thus losers part.

[Exit with his train.

Portia. A gentle riddance. — Draw the curtains ; go.
Let all of his complexion choose me so.

[Exeunt. Flourish of cornets.

SCENE VIII. Venice. A Street
Enter SALARINO and SALANIO

Salarino. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail;
With him is Gratiano gone along,
And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.

Salanio. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the duke,
Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.

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 »o

They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

Salanio. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,

7 8 The Merchant of Venice [Act n

As the dog Jew did utter in the streets :

' My daughter 1 O my ducats ! O my daughter I

Fled with a Christian ! O 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, 20

Stolen by my daughter ! Justice ! find the girl ;

She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.'

Salarino. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.

Salanio. Let good Antonio look he keep his day,
Or he shall pay for this.

Salarino. Marry, well remember'd.

I reason 'd 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. 30

I thought upon Antonio when he told me,
And wish'd in silence that it were not his.

Salanio. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear ;
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

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 answer'd, ' Do not so ;
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time ; 40

And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me,

Scene IX] The Merchant of Venice 79

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.

Salanio. I think he only loves the world for him. 50
I pray thee, let us go and find him out,
And quicken his embraced heaviness
With some delight or other.

Salarino. Do we so. \Exeunt.

SCENE IX. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House
Enter NERISSA with a Servitor

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.

Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF ARRAGON,
PORTIA, and their trains

Portia. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince.
If you choose that wherein I am contain 'd,
Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd ;
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
You must be gone from hence immediately.

8o The Merchant of Venice [Act n

Arragon. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three

things :

First, never to unfold to any one 10

Which casket 't was 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.

Portia. To these injunctions every one doth swear
That comes to hazard for my worthless self.

Arragon. And so have I address 'd me. Fortune now
To my heart's hope ! — Gold, silver, and base lead.
1 Who choose th me must give and hazard all he hath.'1 20
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?
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 the 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, 30

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

Scene IX] The Merchant of Venice 81

To cozen fortune and be honourable

Without the stamp pf merit ? Let none presume

To wear an undeserved dignity.

O, that estates, degrees, and offices 4*

Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear honour

Were purchased by the merit of the wearer !

How many then should cover that stand bare 1

How many be commanded that command !

How much low peasantry would then be glean 'd

From the true seed of honour ; and how much honour

Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,

To be new- varnish 'd ! 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, 50

And instantly unlock my fortunes here.

\He opens the silver casket.

Portia. Too long a pause for that which you find
there.

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 ?

Portia. To offend and judge are distinct offices, 60
And of opposed natures.

Arragon. What is here ?

MER. OF VEN. — 6

82 The Merchant of Venice [Act II

* 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 V bliss.
There be fools alive , I wis^
Silver* d o' er ; and so was this.
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head. 70

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 '11 keep my oath,
Patiently to bear my wroth.

\Exeunt Arragon and train.
Portia. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth.
O, these deliberate fools 1 when they do choose,
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. 80

Nerissa. The ancient saying is no heresy, —
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.

Portia. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.

Enter a Servant

Servant. Where is my lady ?

Portia. Here ; what would my lord ?

Servant. Madam, there is alighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before

Scene IX] The Merchant of Venice 83

To signify the 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 90

So likely an ambassador of love ;

A day in April never came so sweet,

To show how costly summer was at hand,

As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord.

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.

Nerissa. Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be I 100

[Exeunt.

RIALTO BRIDGE

ACT III

SCENE I. Venice. A Street

Enter SALANIO and SALARINO

Salanio. Now, what 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 car-
casses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if
my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word,

Satanio. I would she were as lying a gossip in
that as ever knapped ginger, or made her neigh-

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 85

bcurs believe she wept for the death of a third hus.- 10
band. But it is true, without any slips of prolixity
or crossing the plain highway of talk, that the good
Antonio, the honest Antonio, — O that I had a title
good enough to keep his name company ! — .

Salarino. Come, the full stop.

Salanio. Ha ! what sayest thou ? — Why, the end
is, he hath lost a ship.

Salarino. I would it might prove the end of his
losses !

Salanio. Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil 20
cross my prayer; for here he comes in the likeness

of a Jew. —

Enter SHYLOCK

How now, Shy lock ? what news among the merchants ?

Shy lock. You knew, none so .well, none so well as
you, of my daughter's flight.

Salarino. That 's certain ; I, for my part, knew the
tailor that made the wings she flew withal.

Salanio. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the
bird was fledged ; and then it is the complexion of
them all to leave the dam. 30

Shylock. My own flesh and blood to rebel !

Salarino. There is more difference between thy
flesh and ht/s than between jet and ivory; more
between your bloods than there is between red wine
and Rhenish. But tell us, do you hear whether
Antonio have had any loss at sea or no?

Shylock. There I have another bad match : a bank-

86 The Merchant of Venice [Act ill

rupt, 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 40
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.

Salarino. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt
not take his flesh ; what 's that good for ?

Shylock. To bait fish withal ; if it will feed noth-
ing 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 50
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 60'
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 villany
you teach me, I will execute ; and it shall go hard
but I will better the instruction.

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 87

Enter a Servant

Servant. Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his
house, and desires to speak with you both.

Salarino. We have been up and down to seek him.

Enter TUBAL

Salanio. Here comes another of the tribe ; a third 70
cannot be matched, unless the devil himself turn
Jew. [Exeunt Salanio, Salarino, and Servant.

Shy lock. How now, Tubal ? what news from Genoa ?
hast thou found my daughter ?

Tubal. I often came where I did hear of her, but
cannot find her.

Shy lock. Why, there, there, there, there ! a dia-
mond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frank-
fort ! The curse never fell upon our nation till now ;
I never felt it till now ; two thousand ducats in that, 80
and other precious, precious jewels. I would my
daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in
her ear 1 Would she were hearsed at my foot, and
the ducats in her coffin ! No news of them ? —
Why, so ; and I know not how much is 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. 90

Tubal. Yes, other men have ill luck too. Antonio,
as I heard in Genoa, —

88 . The Merchant of Venice [Act in

Shylock. What, what, what ? ill luck, ill luck ?

TubaL Hath an argosy cast away, coming from
Tripolis.

Shylock. I thank God ! I thank God ! Is it true?
is it true ?

TubaL I spoke with some of the sailors that es-
caped the wrack.

Shylock. I thank thee, good Tubal ! — Good news, 100
good news ! ha, ha ! — Where ? in Genoa ?

Tubal. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard,
in one night fourscore ducats.

Shylock. Thou stick'st a dagger in me. I shall
never see my gold again. Fourscore ducats at a sit-
ting ! fourscore ducats !

Tubal. There came divers of Antonio's creditors
in my company to Venice, that swear he cannot
choose but break.

Shylock. I am very glad of it, I '11 plague him ; no
I '11 torture him. I am glad of it.

Tubal. One of them showed me a ring that he had
of your daughter for a monkey.

Shylock. Out upon her ! Thou torturest me, Tu-
bal. It was my turquoise ; I had it of Leah when I
was a bachelor. I would not have given it for a wil-
derness of monkeys.

Tubal. But Antonio is certainly undone.

Shylock. Nay, that 's true, that 's very true. Go,
Tubal, fee me an officer ; bespeak him a fortnight 120
before. I will have the heart of him, if he forfeit ;

Scene II] The Merchant of Venice 89

for, were he out of Venice, I can make what mer-
chandise I will. Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at
our synagogue : go, good Tubal ; at our synagogue,
Tubal. \Exeunt.

SCENE II. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House

Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and
Attendants

Portia. I pray you, tarry : pause a day or two
Before you hazard, for, in choosing wrong,
I lose your company ; therefore forbear a while.
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 then I am forsworn ;
So will I never be. So may you miss me ;
But if you do, you '11 make me wish a sin,
That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes,
They have o'erlook'd 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. O, these naughty times
Put bars between the owners and their rights !
And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so,

90 The Merchant of Venice [Act m

Let fortune go to hell for it, not I.
I speak too long; but 'tis to petze the time,
To eke it, and to draw it out in length,
To stay you from election. .

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. None but that ugly treason of mistrust
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love.
There may as well be amity and life 30

'Tween snow and fire as treason and my love.

Portia. Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack,
Where men enforced do speak any thing.

Bassanio. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.

Portia. Well 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.

Portia. Away, then ! I am lock'd in one of them ; 40
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 swan-like end,
Fading in music : that the comparison
May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream
And watery death-bed for him. He may win ;

Scene II] The Merchant of Venice 91

And what is music then ? Then music is

Even as the flourish when true subjects bow

To a new-crowned monarch ; such it is 50

As are those dulcet sounds in break of day

That creep into the dream ing l>ridegroom's ear

And summon him to marriage. 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 bleared visages, come forth to view

The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules ! 60

Live thou, I live. — With much more dismay

i view the fight than thou that mak'st the fray.

A Song, whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to
himself.

Tell me where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply.

It is engendered in the eyes,

With gazing fed ; and fancy dies

In the cradle where it lies.

Let us1 all ring fancy 's knell; 70

1 'II begin it, — Ding, dong, bell.

All. Ding, dong, bell.

92 The Merchant of Venice [Act m

Bassanio. So may the outward shows be least them-
selves ;

The world is still deceiv'd with ornament.
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
But, being season 'd with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of evil ? In religion,
What damned error, but some sober brow
Will bless it and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? 8«

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 search 'd, have livers white as milk ;
And these assume but valour's excrement
To render them redoubted ! Look on beauty,
And you shall see 't is purchased by the weight,
Which therein works a miracle in nature, 90

Making them lightest that wear most of it.
So are those crisped snaky golden locks,
Which make such wanton gambols with the wind,
Upon supposed fairness, often known
To be the dowry of a second head,
The skull that bred them in the sepulchre.
Thus ornament is but the guiled shore
To a most dangerous sea, the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian beauty, — in a word,
The seeming truth which cunning times put on 100

Scene ii] The Merchant of Venice 93

To entrap the wisest. Therefore, 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 threatenest than dost promise aught,
Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence,
And here choose I. Joy be the consequence !

Portia. [Aside] How all the other passions fleet to air,
As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair,
And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy I no

0 love ! be moderate ; allay thy ecstasy ;
In measure rain thy joy ; scant this excess.

1 feel too much thy blessing; make it less,
For fear I surfeit.

Bassanio. What find I here ?

[ Opening the leaden casket.
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 sever 'd lips,
Parted with sugar breath ; so sweet a bar
Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs 120
The painter plays the spider, and hath woven
A golden mesh to 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 unfurnish'd. Yet look, how far
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow

94 The Merchant of Venice [Act ill

In underprizing it, so far this shadow

Doth limp behind the substance. — Here's the scroll.

The continent and summary of my fortune. 130

' 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?

A gentle scroll. — Fair lady, by your leave ;

I come by note, to give and to receive. \Kissing her.

Like one of two contending in a prize, 141

That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes,

Hearing applause and universal shout,

Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt

Whether those peals of praise be his or no ;

So, thrice-fair lady, stand I, even so,

As doubtful whether what I see be true,

Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.

Portia. You see me, .Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
Such as I am. Though for myself alone 150

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,

Scene II] The Merchant of Venice 95

That only to stand high in your account,

I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,

Exceed account. But the full sum of me

Is sum of nothing ; which, to term in gross,

Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised :

Happy in this, she is not yet so old i6c

But she may learn ; happier than this,

She is not bred so dull but she can learn ;

Happiest of all in 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 170

Are yours, my lord. 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.

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 beloved prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleased multitude, 180

Where every something, being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy,
Express'd and not express'd. But when this ring

96 The Merchant of Venice [Act in

Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence ;
O, then be bold to say Bassanio's 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 !

Gratiano. My lord Bassanio and my gentle lady,
I wish you all the joy that you can wish, 190

For I am sure you can wish none from me ;
And when your honours mean to solemnize
The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you,
Even at that time I may be married too.

Bassanio. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.

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 lov'd, I lov'd ; for intermission
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. 200

Your fortune stood upon the caskets 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
Achiev'd her mistress.

Portia. Is this true, Nerissa ?

Nerissa. Madam, it is, so you stand pleas'd withal.

JBassanio. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith ? 21?

Gratiano. Yes, faith, my lord.

Scene ii] The Merchant of Venice 97

Bassanio. Our feast shall be much honoured in your

marriage.
Gratiano. But who comes here? Lorenzo and his

infidel ?
What ! and my old Venetian friend, Salerio ?

Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO, a messenger
from Venice

Bassanio. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither ;
If that the youth of my new interest here
Have power to bid you welcome. — By your leave,
I bid my very friends and countrymen,
Sweet Portia, welcome.

Portia. So do I, my lord ;

They are entirely welcome. 220

Lorenzo. I thank your honour. — For my part, my lord,
My purpose was not to have seen you here ;
But meeting with Salerio by the way,
He did entreat me, past all saying nay,
To come with him along.

Salerio. I did, my lord,

And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio
Commends him to you. \Gives Bassanio a letter.

Bassanio. Ere I ope his letter,

I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth.

Salerio. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind,
Nor well, unless in mind ; his letter there 230

Will show you his estate.

MER. OF YEN. — 7

98 The Merchant of Venice [Act in

Gratiano. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger ; bid her wel-
come. —

Your hand, Salerio ; what 's the news from Venice ?
How doth -that royal merchant, good Antonio?
I know he will be glad of our success ;
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.

Salerio. I would you had won the fleece that he hath
lost!

Portia. There are some shrewd contents in yon same

paper,

That steals the colour fiorn Bassanio's cheek:
Some dear friend dead ; else nothing in the world 240
Could turn so much the constitution
Of any constant man. What, worse and worse ? —
With leave, Bassanio ; I am half yourself,
And I must freely have the half of any thing
That this same paper brings you.

Bassanio. O sweet Portia,

Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
That ever blotted paper ! Gentle lady,
When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins — I was a gentleman, • 250

And then 1 told you true ; and yet, dear lady,
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see
How much I was a braggart. When I told you
My state was nothing, I should then have told you
That I was worse than nothing ; for indeed
I have engag'd myself to a dear friend,

Scene II] The Merchant of Venice 99

Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy,

To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady ;

The paper as the body of my friend,

And every word in it a gaping wound, 260

Issuing life-blood. — But is it true, Salerio ?

Have all his ventures fail'd ? What, not one hit?

From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England,

From Lisbon, Barbary, and India,

And not one vessel scape the dreadful touch

Of merchant-marring rocks ?

Salerio. Not one. my lord.

Besides, it should appear that if he had
The present money to discharge the Jew,
He would not take it. Never did I know
A creature that did bear the shape of man, 270

So keen and greedy to confound a man.
He plies the duke at morning and at night,
And doth impeach the freedom of the state,
If they deny him justice.. Twenty merchants,
The duke himself, and the magnificoes
Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him ;
But none can drive him from the envious plea
Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond.

Jessica. When I was with him I have heard him

swear

To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen, 280

That he would rather have Antonio's flesh
Than twenty times the value of the sum
That he did owe him ; and I know, my lord,

TOO The Merchant of Venice [Act m

If law, authority, and power deny not,
It will go hard with poor Antonio.

Portia. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble ?

Bassanio. The dearest friend to me, the kindest

man,

The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit
In doing courtesies ; and one in whom
The ancient Roman honour more appears 290

Than any that draws breath in Italy.

Portia. What sum owes he the Jew ?

Bassanio. For me, three thousand ducats.

Portia. What, no more "?

Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond ;
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description
Shall lose a hair through Bassahio's fault.
First go with me to church and call me wife,
And then away to Venice to your friend ;
For never shall you lie by Portia's side 300

With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold
To pay the petty debt twenty times over ;
When it is paid, bring your true friend along.
My maid Nerissa and myself, mean time,
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away I
For you shall hence upon- your wedding-day.
Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer ;
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. —
But let me hear the letter of your friend.

Bassanio. [Reads] ' Sweet Bassanio, my ships

Scene ill] The Merchant of Venice 101

all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very
low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit ; and since, in paying
it, it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared
between you and I, if I might see you at my death.
Notwithstanding, use your pleasure ; if your love do
not persuade you to come, let not my letter?

Portia. O love, dispatch all business, and be gone !

Bassanio. Since I have your good leave to go away,
I will make haste ; but, till I come again,

No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay, 320

Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. \Exeunt.

SCENE III. Venice. A Street
Enter SHYLOCK, SALARINO, ANTONIO, and Gaoler

Shylock. Gaoler, look to him ; tell not me of

mercy. —

This is the fool that lends out money gratis. —
Gaoler, look to him.

Antonio. Hear me yet, good Shylock.

Shylock. I '11 have my bond ; speak not against my

bond.

I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond.
Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause ;
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs.
The duke shall grant me justice. — I do wonder,
Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his request. 10

f02 The Merchant of Venice [Act m

Antonio. I pray thee, hear me speak.

Shylock. I '11 have my bond ; I will not hear thee

speak.

I '11 have my bond ; and therefore speak no more.
I '11 not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool,
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield
To Christian intercessors. Follow not ;
I '11 have no speaking ; I will have my bond. [Exit.

Salarino. It is the most impenetrable cur
That ever kept with men.

Antonio. Let him alone ;

I '11 follow him no more with bootless prayers. 20

He seeks my life ; his reason well I know.
I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures
Many that have at times made moan to me ;
Therefore he hates me.

Salarino. I am sure the duke

Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.

Antonio. The duke cannot deny the course of law;
For the commodity that strangers have
With us in Venice, if it be denied,
Will much impeach the justice of the state,
Since that the trade and profit of the city 30

Consisteth of all nations. Therefore go ;
These griefs and losses have so bated me
That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
To-morrow to my bloody creditor. —
Well, gaoler, on. — Pray God, Bassanio come
To see me pay his debt, and then I care not ! \Exeunt

Scene IV] The Merchant of Venice 103

SCENE IV. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House

Enter PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and
BALTHASAR

Lorenzo. Madam, although I speak it in your pres-
ence,

You have a noble and a true conceit
Of godlike amity, which appears most strongly
In bearing thus the absence of your lord.
But if you knew to whom you show this honour,
How true a gentleman you send relief,
How dear a lover of my lord your husband,
I know you would be prouder of the work
Than customary bounty can enforce you.

Portia. I never did repent for doing good, 10

Nor shall not now ; for in companions
That do converse and waste the time together,
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love,
There must be needs a like proportion
Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit ;
Which makes me think that this Antonio,
Being the bosom lover of my lord,
Must needs be like my lord. If it be so,
How little is the cost I have bestow'd
In purchasing the semblance of my soul 20

From out the state of hellish cruelty !
This comes too near the praising of myself,
Therefore no more of it ; hear other things.

104 The Merchant of Venice [Act in

Lorenzo, I commit into your hands

The husbandry and manage of my house

Until my lord's return ; for mine own part,

I have toward heaven breath 'd a secret vow

To live in prayer and contemplation,

Only attended by Nerissa here,

Until her husband and my lord's return. 90

There is a monastery two miles off,

And there will we abide. I do desire you

Not to deny this imposition,

The which my love and some necessity

Now lays upon you.

Lorenzo. Madam, with all my heart ;

I shall obey you in all fair commands.

Portia. My people do already know my mind,
And will acknowledge you and Jessica
In place of Lord Bassanio and myself.
So fare you well till we shall meet again. 40

Lorenzo. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend ou
you!

Jessica. I wish your ladyship all heart's content.

Portia. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleas 'd
To wish it back on you; fare you well, Jessica. —

\Exeunt Jessica and Lorenzo
Now, Balthasar,

As I have ever found thee honest-true,
So let me find thee still. Take this same letter,
And use thou all the endeavour of a man
In speed to Padua. See thou render this

The Merchant of Venice 105

Into my cousin's hand, Doctor Bellario ; 50

And, look, what notes and garments "he doth give thee,

Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd speed

Unto the tranect, to the common ferry

Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words,

But get thee gone ; I shall be there before thee.

Balthasar. Madam, I go with all convenient speed.

{Exit.

Portia. Come on, Nerissa ; I have work in hand
That you yet know not of. We '11 see our husbands
Before they think of us.

Nerissa. Shall they see us ?

Portia. They shall, Nerissa, but in such a habit 60
That they shall think we are accomplished
With that we lack. I '11 hold thee any wager,
When we are both accoutred like young men,
I '11 prove the prettier fellow of the two,
And wear my dagger with the braver grace,
And speak between the change of man and boy
With a reed voice, and turn two mincing steps
Into a manly stride, and speak of frays
Like a fine bragging youth ; and tell quaint lies,
How honourable ladies sought my love, 70

Which I denying, they fell sick and died,
I could not do withal ; then I '11 repent,
And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them.
And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell,
That men shall swear I have discontinued school
Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind

io6 The Merchant of Venice [Act m

A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks

Which I will practise.

But come, I '11 tell thee all my whole device

When I am in my coach, which stays for us 80

At the park gate ; and therefore haste away,

For we must measure twenty miles to-day. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. The Same. A Garden
Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA

Launcelot. Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the
father are to be laid upon the children ; therefore, I
promise you, I fear you. I was always plain with
you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter ;
therefore be of good cheer, for truly I think you are
damned. There is but one hope in it that can do
you any good.

Jessica. And what hope is that, I pray thee ?

Launcelot. Marry, you may partly hope that you
are not the Jew's daughter.

Jessica. So the sins of my mother should be visited
upon me.

Launcelot. Truly then I fear you are damned both
by father and mother ; thus when I shun Scylla,your
father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother. Well,
you are gone both ways.

Jessica. I shall be saved by my husband ; he hath
made me a Christian.

Scene V] The Merchant of Venice 107

Launcelot. Truly, the more to blame he ; we were
Christians enow before, e'en as many as could well 20
live, one by another. This making of Christians
will raise the price of hogs ; if we grow all to be
pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on
the coals for money.

Enter LORENZO

Jessica. I '11 tell my husband, Launcelot, what you
say ; here he comes.

Lorenzo. I shall grow jealous of vyou shortly,
Launcelot.

Jessica. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo ;
Launcelot and I are out. He tells me flatly, there 3°
is no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's
daughter ; and he says you are no good member of
the commonwealth, for in converting Jews to Chris-
tians you raise the price of pork.

Lorenzo. I think the best grace of wit will shortly
turn into silence, and discourse grow commendable
in none only but parrots. — Go in, sirrah ; bid them
prepare for dinner.

Launcelot. That is done, sir ; they have all
stomachs. 40

Lorenzo. Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are
you ! then bid them" prepare dinner.

Launcelot. That is done too, sir; only, cover is
the word.

Lorenzo. Will you cover then, sir ?

io8 The Merchant of Venice [Act in

Launcelot. Not so, sir, neither ; I know my duty.

Lorenzo. Yet more quarrelling with occasion !
Wilt thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an
instant? I pray thee, understand a plain man in his
plain meaning : go to thy fellows ; bid them cover 50
the table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to
dinner.

Launcelot. For. the table, sir, it shall be served in ;
for the meat, sir, it shall be covered ; for your com-
ing in to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and
conceits shall govern. \Exit.

Lorenzo. O dear discretion, how his words are

suited !

The fool hath planted in his memory
An army of good words ; and I do know
A many fools that stand in better place, 60

Garnish 'd like him, that for a tricksy word
Defy the matter. — How cheer'st thou, Jessica ?
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion,
How dost thou like the lord Bassanio's wife ?

Jessica. Past all expressing. It is very meet
The lord Bassanio live an upright life,
For, having such a blessing in his lady,
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth ;
And if on earth he do not mean it, then
In reason he should never come to heaven. 70

Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,
And Portia one, there must be something else

Scene V] The Merchant of Venice 109

Pawn'd with the other, for the poor rude world
Hath not her fellow.

Lorenzo. Even such a husband

Hast thou of me as she is for a wife.

Jessica. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that.

Lorenzo. I will anon ; first, let us go to dinner.

Jessica. Nay, let me praise you while I have a
stomach.

Lorenzo. No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk ; 80
Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things
I shall digest it.

Jessica. Well, I '11 set you forth. \Exeunt.

COURT OF DUCAL PALACE

ACT IV

SCENE I. Venice. A Court of Justice

Enter the DUKE, the Magnificoes, ANTONIO, BASSANIO,
GRATIANO, SALERIO, and others

Duke. What, is Antonio here ?

Antonio. Ready, so please your grace.

Duke. I am sorry for thee ; thou art come to answer
A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
From any dram of mercy.

Antonio. I have heard

Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
His rigorous course ; but since he stands obdurate
no

Scene /] The Merchant of Venice in

And that no lawful means can carry me

Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose 10

My patience to his fury, and am arm'd

To suffer, with a quietness of spirit,

The very tyranny and rage of his.

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.

Salerio. He is ready at the door ; he comes, my lord.

Enter SHYLOCK

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our

face. —

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,
That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act ; and then 't is thought
Thou 'It show thy mercy and remorse, more strange 20
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty ;
And where thou now exact'st the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal ;
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses.
That have of late so huddled on his back,
Enow to press a royal merchant down,
And pluck commiseration of his state 30

From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint,
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train 'd
To offices of tender courtesy.
We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.

1 1 2 The Merchant of Venice [Act iv

Shy lock. I have possess 'd your grace of what I pur-
pose,

And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn
To have the due and forfeit of my bond.
If you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your charter and your city's freedom.
Vou '11 ask me why I rather choose to have 40

A weight of carrion flesh than to receive
Three thousand ducats. I '11 not answer that ;
But, say, it is my humour : is it answer'd ?
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
To have it ban^d ? What, are you answer'd yet ?
Some men there are love'not a gaping pig,
Some that are mad if they behold a cat ;
Masters of passion sway it to the mood
Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer ; 50
As there is no firm reason to be render'd
Why he cannot abide a gaping pig,
Why he a harmless necessary cat,
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing
I bear Antonio, that I follow thus
A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd ?

Bassanio. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
To excuse the current of thy cruelty.

Shy lock. I am not bound to please thee with my
answer. 60

Bassanio. Do all men kill the things they do not love ?

-Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 113

Shylock. Hates any man the thing he would not kill ?

Bassanio. Every offence is not a hate at first.

Shylock. What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee
twice ?

Antonio. I pray you, think you question with the

Jew.

You may as well go stand upon the beach,
And bid the main flood bate his usual height;
You may as well use question with the wolf
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb ;
You may as well forbid the mountain pines 70

To wag their high tops and to make no noise,
When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven ;
You may as well do any thing most hard,
As seek to soften that — than which what 's harder ? —
His Jewish heart. Therefore, I do beseech you,
Make no more offers, use no farther means,
But with all brief and plain conveniency
Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will.

Bassanio. For thy three thousand ducats here is six.
/ Shylock. If every ducat in six thousand ducats 80
Were in six parts, and every part a ducat,
I would not draw them ; I would have my bond.

Duke. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering
none ? . , .

Shylock. What judgment shall I dread, doing no

wrong ?

You have among you many a purchas'd slave,
WJiich, like your asses and your dogs and mules,

MER. OF VEN. — 8

114 The Merchant of Venice [Act w

You use in abject and in slavish parts,

Because you bought them. Shall I say to you,

Let them be free, marry them to your heirs ?

Why sweat they under burthens ? let their beds 90

Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates

Be season 'd with such viands? You will answer,

The slaves are ours. — So do I answer you :

The pound of flesh which I demand of him

Is dearly bought ; 't is mine, and I will have it.

If you deny me, fie upon your law !

There is no force in the decrees of Venice.

I stand for judgment. Answer ; shall I have it?

Duke. Upon my power I may dismiss this court
Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, 100

Whom I have sent for to determine this?
Come here to-day.

Salerio. My lord, here stays without

A messenger with letters from the doctor,
New come from Padua.

Duke. Bring us the letters ; call the messenger.

Bassanio. Good cheer, Antonio ! What, man, cour-
age yet !

The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all,
Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.

Antonio. I am a tainted wether of the flock,
Meetest for death ; the weakest kind of fruit
Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me.
You cannot better be employ 'd, Bassanio,
Than to live still and write mine epitaph,

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 115

Enter NERISSA, dressed like a lawyer's clerk

Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario ?

'Nerissa. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your
grace. [Presenting a letter.

Bassanio. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?

Shylock. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt
there.

Gratiano. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
Thou mak'st thy knife keen ; but no metal can,
No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness 120
Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee ?

Shylock. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make.

Gratiano. O, be thou damn'd, inexorable dogl
And for thy life let justice be accus'd !
Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith,
To hold opinion with Pythagoras,
That souls of animals infuse themselves
Into the trunks of men. Thy currish spirit
Govern 'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter,
Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, 130

And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam,
Infus'd itself in thee ; for thy desires
Are wolvish, bloody, starved, and ravenous.

Shylock. Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond
Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud.
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
To cureless ruin. — I stand here for law.

Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend

n6 The Merchant of Venice [Act IV

A young and learned doctor to our court. —
Where is he ?

Nerissa. He attendeth here hard by, 140

To know your answer, whether you '11 admit him.

Duke. With all my heart. — Some three or four of

you

Go give him courteous conduct to this place. —
Meantime, the court shall hear Bellario's letter.

Clerk. [Reads] ' Your grace shall understand that
at the receipt of your letter I am very sick; but in the
instant that your messenger came, in loving visitation
was with me a young doctor of Rome ; his name is
Balthasar. I acquainted him with the cause in con-
troversy between the Jew and Antonio the merchant ; 150
we turned c?er many books together. He is furnished
with my opinion, which, bettered with his own learning,
the greatness whereof I cannot enough commend, comes
with him, at my importunity, to fill up your graced
request in my stead. I beseech you, let his lack of years
be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation ;
for I never knew so young a body with so old a head.
I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial
shall better publish his commendation.''

Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes; 160
And here, I take it, is the doctor come. —

Enter PORTIA, dressed like a doctor of laws

Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario ?
Portia, I did, my lord.

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 117

Duke. You are welcome ; take your place.

Are you acquainted with the difference
That holds this present question in the court ?

Portia. I am informed throughly of the cause.
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew ?

Duke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.

Portia. Is your name Shylock ?

Shylock. Shylock is my name.

Portia* Of a strange nature is the suit you follow, 170
Yet in such rule that the Venetian law
Cannot impugn you as you do proceed. —
You stand within his danger, do you not?

Antonio. Ay, so he says.

Portia. Do you confess the bond ?

Antonio. I do.

Portia. Then must the Jew be merciful.

Shylock. On what compulsion must I ? tell me that.

Portia. The quality of mercy is not strain 'd ;
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes. 180

'T is mightiest in the mightiest ; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway ;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
[t is an attribute to God himself ;

n8 The Merchant of Venice [Act IV

And earthly power doth then show likest God's

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, 190

Though justice be thy plea, consider this, —

That, in the course of justice, none of us

Should see salvation ; we do pray for mercy,

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render

The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much

To mitigate the justice of thy plea,

Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice

Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.

Shy lock. My deeds upon my head ! I crave the law,
The penalty and forfeit of my bond. 2ou

Portia. Is he not able to discharge the money ?

Bassanio. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court
Yea, twice the sum. If that will not suffice,
I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er,
On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart ;
If this will not suffice, it must appear
That malice bears down truth. And I beseech you,
Wrest once the law to your authority ;
To do a great right, do a little wrong,
And curb this cruel devil of his will. 210

Portia. It must not be. There is no power in Venice
Can alter a decree established ;
'T will be recorded for a precedent,
And many an error by the same example
Will rush into the state. It cannot be.

Shylock. A Daniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniel 1
O wise young judge, how do I honour thee !

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 119

Portia. I pray you, let me look upon the bond.

Shy lock. Here 't is, most reverend doctor, here it is*

Portia. Shylock, there 's thrice thy money offer'd thee.

Shylock. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven ;
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul ? 22*

No, not for Venice.

Portia. Why, this bond is forfeit ;

And lawfully by 'this the Jew may claim
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
Nearest the merchant's heart. — Be merciful;
Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.

Shylock. When it is paid according to the tenour. —
It doth appear you are a worthy judge ;
You know the law ; your exposition 230

Hath been most sound. I charge you by the law,
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
Proceed to judgment. By my soul I swear,
There is no power in the tongue of man
Tc alter me. I stay here on my bond.

Antonio. Most heartily I do beseech the court
To give the judgment.

Portia. Why then, thus it is:

You must prepare your bosom for his knife.

Shylock. O noble judge ! O excellent young man \

Portia. For the intent and purpose of the law 240
Hath full relation to the penalty,
Which here appeareth due upon the bond.

Shylock. 'T is very true. O wise and upright judge
How much more elder art thou than thy looks !

120 The Merchant of Venice [Act iv

Portia. Therefore lay bare your bosom.

Shy lock. Ay, his breast ;

So says the bond — doth it not, noble judge? —
Nearest his heart ; those are the very words.

Portia. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh
the flesh ?

Shylock. I have them ready.

Portia. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your
charge, 250

To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.

Shylock. Is it so nominated in the bond ?

Portia. It is not so express 'd ; but what of that ?
'T were good you do so much for charity.

Shylock. I cannot find it ; -t is not in the bond.

Portia. You, merchant, have you any thing to say ?

Antonio. But little ; I am arm'd and well prepar'd. —
Give me your hand, Bassanio ; fare you well !
Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you ;
For herein Fortune shows herself more kind 260

Than is her custom. It is still her use
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow
An age of poverty; from which lingering penance
Of such misery doth she cut me off.
Commend me to your honourable wife.
Tell her the process of Antonio's end ;
Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death,
And when the tale is told bid her be judge
Whether Bassanio had not once a love. 270

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 121

Repent not you that you shall lose your friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt ;
For if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
I '11 pay it instantly with all my heart.

Bassanio. Antonio, I am married to a wife
Which is as dear to me as life itself ;
But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
Are not with me esteem 'd above thy life.
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
Here to this devil, to deliver you. 280

Portia. Your wife would give you little thanks for that, *
If she were by to hear you make the offer.

Gratiano. I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love ;
I would she were in heaven, so she could
Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.

Nerissa. 'T is well you offer it behind her back ;
The wish would make else an unquiet house.

Shylock. [Aside] These be the Christian husbands.

I have a daughter ;
Would any of the stock of Barrabas
Had been her husband rather than a Christian ! — 290
[To Portia] We trifle time ; I pray thee, pursue sentence.

Portia. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is

thine ;
The court awards it, and the law doth give it.

Shylock. Most rightful judge !

Portia. And you must cut this flesh from off his

breast ;
The law allows it, and the court awards it.

122 The Merchant of Venice [Act IV

Shylock. Most learned judge I — A sentence 1 Come,
prepare 1

Portia. Tarry a little ; there is something else.
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood ;
The words expressly are, a pound of flesh. 300

Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh ;
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.

Gratiano. O upright judge ! — Mark, Jew 1 — O
learned judge !

Shylock. Is that the law ?

Portia. Thyself shalt see the act ;

For, as thou urgest justice, be assur'd
Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest.

Gratiano. O learned judge ! — Mark Jew ! — a learned
judge ! 310

Shylock. I take this offer, then ; pay the bond thrice.
And let the Christian go.

Bassanio. Here is the money.

Portia. Soft!

The Jew shall have all justice ; — soft 1 no haste : —
He shall have nothing but the penalty.

Gratiano. O Jew ! an upright judge, a learned judge 1

Portia. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh.
Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou less nor more
But just a pound of flesh ; if thou tak'st more
Or less than a just pound, be it but so much y.r

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 123

As makes it light or heavy in the substance,

Or the division of the twentieth part

Of one poor scruple — nay, if the scale do turn

But in the estimation of a hair,

Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.

Gratiano. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew !
Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip.

Portia. Why doth the Jew pause? — Take thy for-
feiture.

Shylock. Give me my principal, and let me go.

Bassanio. I have it ready for thee ; here it is. 330

Portia. He hath refus'd it in the open court ;
He shall have merely justice and his bond.

Gratiano. A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel !
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.

Shylock. Shall I not have barely my principal ?

Portia. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture,
To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.

Shylock. Why, then the devil give him good of it 1
I '11 stay no longer question.

Portia. Tarry, Jew ;

The law hath yet another hold on you. 340

It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
If it be prov'd against an alien
That by direct or indirect attempts
He seek the life of any citizen,
The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive
Shall seize one half his goods ; the other half
Comes to the privy coffer of the state ;

124 The Merchant of Venice [Act iv

And the offender's life lies in the mercy

Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice.

In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st ; 350

For it appears, by manifest proceeding,

That indirectly, and directly too,

Thou hast contriv'd against the very life

Of the defendant, and thou hast incurr'd

The danger formerly by me rehears'd.

Down therefore, and beg mercy of the duke.

Gratiano. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang

thyself:

And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
Thou hast not left the value of a cord ;
Therefore thou must be hang'd at the state's charge. 360

Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirits,
I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it.
. For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ;
The other half comes to the general state,
Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.

Portia. Ay, for the state, not for Antonio.

Shy lock. Nay, take my life and all ; pardon not that.
You take my house when you do take the prop
That doth sustain my house ; you take my life
When you do take the means whereby I live. 370

Portia. W7hat mercy can you render him, Antonio ?

Gratiano. A halter gratis ; nothing else, for God's sake.

Antonio. So please my lord the duke and all the court
To quit the fine for one half of his goods,
I am content, so he will let me have

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 125

The other half in use, to render it,

Upon his death, unto the gentleman

That lately stole his daughter.

Two things provided more, — that, for this favour,

He presently become a Christian ; 380

The other, that he do record a gift,

Here in the court, of all he dies possess 'd,

Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.

Duke. He shall do this, or else I do recant
The pardon that I late pronounced here.

Portia. Art thou contented, Jew ? what dost thou say ?

Shylock. I am content.

Portia. Clerk, draw a deed of gift.

Shylock. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence ;
I am not well. Send the deed after me,
And I will sign it.

Duke. Get thee gone, but do it. 390

Gratiano. In christening thou shalt have two god-
fathers ;

Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more,
To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. \Exit Shylock.

Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner.

Portia. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon ;
I must away this night toward Padua,
And it is meet I presently set forth.

Duke. I am sorry that your leisure serves you not. —
Antonio, gratify this gentleman,

For, in my mind, you are much bound to him. 400

[Exeunt Duke and his train.

126 The Merchant of Venice [Act iv

Bassanio. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend
Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted
Of grievous penalties ; in lieu whereof
Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
We freely cope your courteous pains withal.

Antonio. And stand indebted, over and above,
In love and service to you evermore.

Portia. He is well paid that is well satisfied ;
And I, delivering you, am satisfied,
And therein do account myself well paid. 410

My mind was never yet more mercenary.
I pray you, know me when we meet again ;
I wish you well, and so I take my leave.

.Bassanio. Dear sir, of force I must attempt you

further.

Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute,
Not as a fee ; grant me two things, I pray you,
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.

Portia. You press me far, and therefore I will yield. —
\To Antonio'} Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for

your sake ; —

\To Bassanio~\ And, for your love, I'll take this ring
from you. — 420

Do not draw back your hand ; I'll take no more,
And you in love shall not deny me this.

Bassanio. This ring, good sir, — alas ! it is a trifle ;
I will not shame myself to give you this.

Portia. I will have^ nothing else but only this ;
And now methinks I have a mind to it.

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 127

Bassanio. There's more depends on this than on the

value.

The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,
And find it out by proclamation ;
Only for this, I pray you, pardon me. 430

Portia. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers;
You taught me first to beg, and now methinks
You teach me how a beggar should be answered.

Bassanio. Good sir, this ring was given me by my

wife ;

And when she put it on she made me vow
That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it.

Portia. That 'scuse serves many men to save their

gifts ;

And if your wife be not a mad woman,
And know how well I have deserv'd the ring,
She would not hold out enemy for ever, 440

For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you I

[Exeunt Portia and Nerissa.

Antonio. My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring ;
Let his deservings and my love withal
Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandement.

Bassanio. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him ;
Give him the ring, and bring him, if thou canst,
Unto Antonio's house. Away ! make haste. —

\Exit Gratiano.

Come, you and I willthither presently ;
And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont. Come, Antonio. [Exeunt. 450

128 The Merchant of Venice [Act IV

SCENE II. The Same. A Street
Enter PORTIA and NERISSA

Portia. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this

deed,

And let him sign it ; we '11 away to-night,
And be a day before our husbands home.
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.

Enter GRATIANO

Gratiano. Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en ;
My lord Bassanio, upon more advice,
Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat
Your company at dinner.

Portia. That cannot be.

His ring I do accept most thankfully,
And so, I pray you, tell him ; furthermore, 10

I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house.

Gratiano. That will I do.

Nerissa. Sir, I would -peak with you. —

[Aside to Portia~\ I '11 see if I can get my husband's ring,
Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.

Portia. [Aside to Nerissd\ Thou mayst, I warrant.

We shall have old swearing
That they did give the rings away to men ;
But we '11 outface them, and outs wear them too.
Away ! make haste ; thou know'st where I will tarry.

Nerissa. Come, good sir, will you show me to this
house? {Exeunt.

GARDEN SCENE

ACT V

SCENE I. Belmont. Avenue to Portia's House
Enter LORENZO and JESSICA

Lorenzo. The moon shines bright. In such a night

as this,

When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees
And they did make no noise — in such a night,
Troilus methinks mounted the Trojan walls,
And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.

HER. OF YEN. — 9 129

ijo The Merchant of Venice [Act v

Jessica. In such a night,

Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew,
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay'd away.
. Lorenzo. In such a night,

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand .to

Upon the wild sea banks, and waft her love
To come again to Carthage.

Jessica. . In such a night ,

Medea gather 'd the enchanted herbs
That did renew old ^Eson.

Lorenzo. In such a night,

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice
As far as Belmont.

Jessica. In such a night,

Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well,
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

Lorenzo. In such a night, • 20

Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

Jessica. I would out-night you, did nobody come ;
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter STEPHANO

Lorenzo. Who comes so fast in silence of the night ?
Stephana. A friend.

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 131

Lorenzo. A friend ! what friend ? your name, I pray
you, friend ?

Stephano. Stephano is my name, and I bring word
My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont ; she doth stray about 30

By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.

Lorenzo. Who comes with her ?

Stephano. None but a holy hermit and her maid.
I pray you, is my master yet return 'd ?

Lorenzo. He is not, nor we have not heard from

him. —

But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,
And ceremoniously let us prepare
Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

Enter LAUNCELOT

Launcelot. Sola, sola ! wo ha, ho ! sola, sola !

Lorenzo. Who calls ? 40

Launcelot. Sola ! did you see Master Lorenzo and
Mistress Lorenzo ? sola, sola !

Lorenzo. Leave hollaing, man ; here.

Launcelot. Sola ! where ? where ?

Lorenzo. Here.

Launcelot. Tell him there 's a, post come from my
master, with his horn full of good news ; my master will
be here ere morning. \Exit.

Lorenzo. Sweet soul, let 's in, and there expect their
coming.

132 The Merchant of Venice [Act V

And yet no matter ; why should we go in ? — 50

My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand ;
And bring your music forth into the air. —

[Exit Stephano.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank 1
Here will we sit and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears ; soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit; Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.
There 's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 60
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ;
Such harmony is in immortal souls,
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. —

Enter Musicians

Come, ho ! and wake Diana with a hymn ;

With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,

And draw her home with music. , . [Music.

Jessica. I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

Lorenzo. The reason is, your spirits are attentive. 70
For do but note a wild and' wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood ;
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 133

Or any air of music touch their ears,

You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,

Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze

By the sweet power of music. Therefore the poet

Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods ; 80

Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,

But music for the time doth change his nature.

The man that hath no music in himself,

Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,

And his affections dark as Erebus.

Let no such man be trusted. — Mark the music.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA

Portia. That light we see is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams 1 90

So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Nerissa, When the moon shone, we did not see the
candle.

Portia. So doth the greater glory dim the less ;
A substitute shines brightly as a king
Until a king be by, and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters. — Music ! hark !

Nerissa. It is your music, madam, of the house.

Portia. Nothing is good, I see, without respect ;
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day. 100

Nerissa. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.

134 The Merchant of Venice [Act V

Portia. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended ; and I think
The nightingale, if she should sing by day
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise and true perfection ! —
Peace, ho ! the moon sleeps with Endymion,
And would not be awak'd. [Music ceases.

Lorenzo. That is the voice, no

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

Portia. He knows me as the blind man knows the

cuckoo,
By the bad voice.

Lorenzo. Dear lady, welcome home.

Portia. We have been praying for our husbands

welfare,

Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.
Are they return'd?

Lorenzo. Madam, they are not yet ;

But there is come a messenger before,
To signify their coming.

Portia. Go in, Nerissa ;

Give order to my servants that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence ; —
Nor you, Lorenzo ; — • Jessica, nor you. [A tucket sounds

Lorenzo. Your husband is at hand ; I hear his trumpet.
We are no tell-tales, madam ; fear you not.

Portia. This night methinks is but the daylight sick,

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 135

It looks a little paler ; 't is a day
Such as the day is when the sun is hid.

Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their
followers

Bassanio. We should hold day with the Antipodes
[f you would walk in absence of the sun.

Portia. Let me give light, but let me not be light ;
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, 130

And never be Bassanio so for me.
But God sort all ! You are welcome home, my lord.

Bassanio. I thank you, madam. Give welcome to

my friend.

This is the man, this is Antonio,
To whom I am so infinitely bound.

Portia. You should in all sense be much bound to him,
For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.

Antonio. No more than I am well acquitted of.

Portia. Sir, you are very welcome to our house ;
It must appear in other ways than words, 140

Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.

Gratiano. \To Nerissd\ By yonder moon I swear you

do me wrong ;
In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk.

Portia. A quarrel, ho, already ! what 's the matter ?

Gratiano. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
That she did give me, whose poesy was
For all the world like cutler's poetry
Upon a knife, ' Love me, and leave me not.'

136 The Merchant of Venice [Act v

Nerissa. What talk you of the poesy or the value ?
You swore, to me, when I did give it you, 150

That you would wear it till the hour of death,
And that it should lie with you in your grave ;
Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths,
You should have been respective and have kept it.
Gave it a judge's clerk ! but well I know
The clerk will ne'er wear hair on 's face that had it.

Gratiano. He will, an if he live to be a man.

Nerissa. Ay, if a woman live to be a man.

Gratiano. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,
A kind of .boy, a little scrubbed boy, , 160

No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk,
A prating boy, that begg'd it as 'a fee ;
I could not for my heart deny it him.

Portia. You were to blame, I must be plain with you,
To part so slightly with your wife's first gift ;
A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger,
And so riveted with faith unto your flesh.
I gave my love a ring, and made him swear
Never to part with it ; and here he stands.
I dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it, 170

Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth
That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano,
You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief ;
An >t were to me, I should be mad at it.

Bassanio. \Aside\ Why, I were best to cut my left

hand off,
And swear I lost the ring 'defending it.

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 137

Gratiano. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away
Unto the judge that begg'd it, and indeed
Deserv'd it too ; and then the boy, his clerk,
That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine ; 180
And neither man nor master would take aught
But the two rings.

Portia. What ring gave you, my lord ?

Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me.

Bassanio. If I could add a lie unto a fault,
I would deny it, but you see my finger
Hath not the ring upon it ; ij; is gone.

Portia. Even so void is your false heart of truth.
By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed
Until I see the ring.

Nerissa. Nor I in yours

Till I again see mine.

Bassanio. Sweet Portia, 190

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.

Portia. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honour to contain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring. 200

What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it

138 The Merchant of Venice [Act V

With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
To urge the thing heM as a ceremony ?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe ;
I '11 die for 1t but some woman had the ring.

Bassanio. No, by my honour, madam, by my soul,
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,
And begg'd the ring ; the which I did deny him, 210
And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away,
Even he that did uphold the very life
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady?
I was enforc'd to send it after him ;
I was beset with shame and courtesy;*
My honour would not let ingratitude
So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady ;
For, by these blessed candles of the night,
Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd
The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. 220

Portia. Let not that doctor e'er come near my

house.

Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd,
And that which you did swear to keep for me,
I will become as liberal as you ;
I '11 not deny him any thing I have.

Antonio. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels.

Portia. Sir, grieve not you ; you are welcome not-
withstanding.

Bassanio. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong ;
And, in the hearing of these many friends,

Scene I] The Merchant of Venice 139

^ • .-.'••-..:'"••'"•

I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, 230

Wherein I see myself, —

Portia. Mark you but that !

In both my eyes he doubly sees himself ;
In each eye, one ! — Swear by your double self,
And there 's an oath of credit.

Bassanio. Nay, but hear me :

Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear
I never more will break an oath with thee.

Antonio. I once did lend my body for his wealth,
Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,
Had quite miscarried ; I dare be bound again,
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord , 240

Will never more break faith advisedly.

Portia. Then you shall be his surety. Give him this,
And bid him keep it better than the other.

Antonio. Here, lord Bassanio ; swear to keep this ring.

Bassanio. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor!

Portia. You are all amaz'd.
Here is a letter, read it at your leisure ; l
It comes from Padua, from Bellario.
There you shall find that Portia was the doctor,
Nerissa there her clerk. Lorenzo here 250

Shall witness I set forth as soon as you,
And even but now re turn 'd ; I have not yet
Enter'd my house. — Antonio, you are welcome ;
And I have better news in store for you
Than yon expect. Unseal this letter soon ;
There you shall find, three of your argosies

140 The Merchant of Venice [Act V

Are richly come to harbour suddenly.

You shall not know by what strange accident

I chanced on this letter.

Antonio. Sweet lady, you have given me life and
living ; 26*

For here I read for certain that my ships
Are safely come to road.

Portia. How now, Lorenzo ?

My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.

Nerissa. Ay, and I '11 give them him without a fee. —
There do I give to you and Jessica,
From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
After his death, of all he dies possess'd of.

Lorenzo. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.

Portia. It is almost morning,

And yet I am sure you are not satisfied 270

Of these events at full. Let us go in ;
And charge us there upon inter'gatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully, \Exeunt*

NOTES

141

THE CASKETS

NOTES

INTRODUCTION

THE METRE OF THE PLAY. — It should be understood at the
outset that metre, or the mechanism of verse, is something alto-
gether distinct from the music of verse. The one is matter of rule,
the other of taste and feeling. Music is not an absolute necessity
of verse; the metrical form is a necessity, being that which consti-
tutes the verse.

The plays of Shakespeare (with the exception of rhymed pas-
sages, and of occasional songs and interludes) are all in unrhymed
or blank verse; and the normal form of this blank verse is illus-
trated by the first line of the present play : " In sooth, I know not
why I am so sad."

144 Notes

This line, it will be seen, consists of ten syllables, with the even
syllables (2d, 4th, 6th, 8th, and loth) accented, the odd syllables
(ist, 3d, etc.) being unaccented. Theoretically, it is made up of
five feet of two syllables each, with the accent on the second sylla-
ble. Such a foot is called an iambus (plural, iambuses, or the
Latin iambi}, and the form of verse is called iambic.

This fundamental law of Shakespeare's verse is subject to certain
modifications, the most important of which are as follows : —

1. After the tenth syllable an unaccented syllable (or even two
such syllables) may be added, forming what is sometimes called a
female line; as in the third line of the first scene: "But how I
caught it, found it, or came by it." The rhythm is complete with
by, the it being an extra eleventh syllable. In line 69, we have two
extra syllables, the rhythm being complete with the second syllable
of Antonio.

2. The accent in any part of the verse may be shifted from an
even to an odd syllable; as in lines 18, 19 : —

" Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind,
Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads."

In both lines the accent is shifted from the second to the first syl-
lable. This change occurs very rarely in the tenth syllable, and
seldom in the fourth; and it is not allowable in two successive
accented syllables.

3. An extra unaccented syllable may occur in any part of the
line; as in lines 29, 47, and 48. In 29 the second syllable of burial
is superfluous; in 47 the word us ; and in 48 the second syllable of
merry. Line 48 has also the unaccented final syllable in easy,
making it a female line.

4. Any unaccented syllable, occurring in an even place immedi-
ately before or after an even syllable which is properly accented, is
reckoned as accented for the purposes. of the verse; as, for instance,
in lines 12 and 13. In 12 the first syllable of overpeer and the last
of traffickers are metrically equivalent to accented syllables ; and so

Notes 145

with the last syllable of reverence in 13. Other examples are the
last syllable of Antonio in lines 39, 73, 122, and 130, and that of
Portia in 166. In 166 Portia must be made distinctly a trisyllable
(as in ii. 7. 43 and 47), but in 165 (as often) it is virtually a dis-
syllable.

5. In many instances in Shakespeare words must be lengthened
in order to fill out the rhythm : —

(a) In a large class of words in which e or i is followed by
another vowel, the e or i is made a separate syllable; as ocean,
opinion, soldier, patience, partial, marriage, etc. For instance,
line 8 of the first scene of the present play appears to have only
nine syllables, but ocean (see note on the word) is a trisyllable.
In 102 opinion is a quadrisyllable (but a trisyllable in 91) ; occasions
has five syllables in 139; and many similar instances are mentioned
in the Notes. This lengthening occurs most frequently at the end
of the line.

(b) Many monosyllables ending in r, re, rs, res, preceded by a
long vowel or diphthong, are often made dissyllables; as fare, fear,
dear, fire, hair, hour, your, etc. In iii. 2. 297 : " Shall lose a hair
through Bassanio's fault," hair is a dissyllable. If the word is
repeated in averse it is often both monosyllable and dissyllable;
as in iii. 2. 20 : " And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so,"
where either yours (preferably the first) is a dissyllable, the other
being a monosyllable. In/. C. iii. i. 172: "As fire drives out fire,
so pity, pity," the first fire is a dissyllable.

(<:) Words containing / or r, preceded by another consonant, are
often pronounced as if a vowel ca.vie between the consonants; as
in T. of S. if. i. 158: "While she did call me rascal fiddler" [fid-
d(e)ler]; AWs Well, iii. 5. 43: " If you will tarry, holy pilgrim"
[pilg(e)rim]; C. of E. v. i. 360: "These are the parents of these
children " [childeren, the original form of the word] ; W. T. iv.
4. 76: "Grace and remembrance [rememb(e) ranee] be to you
both ! " etc.

(d) Monosyllabic exclamations (ay, O, yea, nay, hail, etc.) and
MER. OF YEN. — IO

146 Notes

monosyllables otherwise emphasized are similarly lengthened ; also
certain longer words; as commandement in the present play (iv. i.
444) ; safety (trisyllable) in Ham. i. 3. 21 ; business (trisyllable, as
originally pronounced) in J. C. iv. I. 22: "To groan and sweat
under the business " (so in several other passages) ; and other
words mentioned in the notes to the plays in which they occur.

6. Words are also contracted for metrical reasons, like plurals
and possessives ending in a sibilant, as balance (see note on iv. I.
248), horse (for horses and horse's}, princess, sense, marriage (plural
and possessive), image, etc. So spirit (see note on ii. 2. 189),
inter* gatories (see on v. I. 272), unpleasant' }st (see on iii. 2. 246),
and other words mentioned in the notes on this and other plays.

7. The accent of words is also varied in many instances for met-
rical reasons. Thus we find both revenue and revemie in the first
scene of the M. N. D. (lines 6 and 158), obscure (see note on ii. 7.
51) and obscure, pursue (see on iv. I. 291) and pursue, distinct (SZQ
on ii. 9. 60) and distinct, etc.

These instances of variable accent must not be confounded with
those in which words were uniformly accented differently in the
time of Shakespeare;^ like aspect (see on i. I. 54), impdrtune, per-
sever (never persevere], perseverance, rheumatic, etc.

8. Alexandrines, or verses of twelve syllables, with ,six accents,
occur here and there; as in the inscriptions on the caskets (and a
few' other instances) in this play. They must not be confounded
with female lines with two extra syllables (see on I above) or with
other lines in which two extra unaccented syllables may occur.

9. Incomplete verses, of on^ or more syllables, are scattered
through the plays. See note on i. i . 5 of this play.

10. Doggerel measure (i. iViii and the last line of i. 2 in this
play) is used in the very earliest comedies (Z. L. L. and C. of E.
in particular) in the mouths of comic characters, but nowhere eh
in those plays, and never anywhere after the date of the Merchant.

11. Rhyme occurs frequently in the early plays, but diminishes
with comparative regularity from that period until the latest. Thus,

Notes 147

in L. Z. L. there are about 1 100 rhyming verses (about one-third
of the whole number), in the M. N. D. about 900, in Rich. II.
and R. and J. about 500 each, while in Cor. and A. and C. there are
only about 40 each, in the Temp, only two, and in the W. T. none
at all, except in the chorus introducing act iv. Songs, interludes,
and other matter not in ten-syllable measure are not included in
this enumeration. In the present play, out of some 2000 verses,
less than a hundred are in rhyme.

Alternate rhymes are found only in the plays written before 1599
or 1600. In the Merchant there are only four lines — at the end
of iii. 2. In Much Ado and A. Y. L. we also find a few lines, but
none at all in subsequent plays.

Rhymed couplets, or " rhyme-tags," are often found at the end of
Scenes; as in the first scene, and twelve other scenes, of the present
play. In Ham., 14 out of 20 scenes, and in Macb., 21 out of 28,
have such "tags"; but in the latest plays they are not so frequent.
The Temp., for instance, has but one, and the W. T. none.

SHAKESPEARE'S USE OF VERSE AND PROSE IN THE PLAYS. —
This is a subject to which the critics have given very little atten-
tion, but it is an interesting study. In the Merchant we find
scenes entirely in verse or in prose, and others in which the two are
mixed. In general, we may say that verse is used for what is dis-
tinctly poetical, and prose for what is not poetical. The distinction,
however, is not so clearly marked in the earlier as in the later
plays. The second scene of the Merchant, for instance, is in prose,
because Portia and Nerissa are talking about the suitors in a familiar
and playful way; but in the T. G. of V., where Julia and Lucetta
are discussing the suitors of the former in much the same fashion,
the scene is all in verse. Dowden, commenting on Rich. //.,
remarks : " Had Shakespeare written the play a few years later, we
may be certain that the gardener and his servants (iii. 4) would
not have uttered stately speeches in verse, but would have spoken
homely prose, and that humour would have mingled with the
pathos of the scene. The same remark may be made with refer-

148 Notes

ence to the subsequent scene (v. 5) in which his groom visits the
dethroned king in the Tower." Comic characters and those in low
life generally speak in prose in the later plays, as Dowden inti-
mates, but in the very earliest ones doggerel verse is much used
instead. See on 10 above.

The change from prose to verse is well illustrated in the third
scene of the Merchant. It begins with plain prosaic talk about a
business matter; but when Antonio enters, it rises at once to the
higher level of poetry. The sight of Antonio reminds Shylock of
his hatred of the Merchant, and the passion expresses itself in verse,
the vernacular tongue of poetry. We have a similar change in
the first scene of J. C, where, after the quibbling " chaff " of the
mechanics about their trades, the mention of Pompey reminds the
Tribune of, their plebeian fickleness, and his scorn and indignation
flame out in most eloquent verse.

The reasons for the choice of prose or verse are not always so
clear as in these instances. We are seldom puzzled to explain the
prose, but not unfrequently we meet with verse where we might
expect prose. As Professor Corson remarks (Introduction to Shake-
spear e, 1889), " Shakespeare adopted verse as the general tenor of
his language, and therefore expressed much in verse that is within
the capabilities of prose; in other words, his verse constantly
encroaches upon the domain of prose, but his prose can never be
said to encroach upon the domain of verse." If in rare instances
we think we find exceptions to this latter statement, and prose
actually seems to usurp the place of verse, I believe that careful
study of the passage will prove the supposed exception to be appar-
ent rather than real.

SOME BOOKS FOR TEACHERS AND STUDENTS. — A few out of
the many books that might be commended to the teacher and the
critical student are the following: Halliwell-Phillipps's Outlines
of the Life of Shakespeare (yth ed. 1887); Sidney Lee's Life of
Shakespeare (1898; for ordinary students the abridged ed. of 1899
is preferable); Schmidt's Shakespeare Lexicon (3d ed. 1902);

Notes 149

Littledale's ed. of Dyce's Glossary (1902); Bartlett's Concordance
to Shakespeare (1895); Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (1873);
Furness's "New Variorum " ed. of The Merchant of Venice (1888,
encyclopaedic and exhaustive) ; Dowden's Shakspere : His Mind and
Art (American ed. 1881); Hudson's Life, Art, and Characters of
Shakespeare (revised ed. 1882); Mrs. Jameson's Characteristics of
Women (several eds., some with the title, Shakespeare Heroines} ;
Ten Brink's Five lectures on Shakespeare (1895); Boas's Shake-
speare and His Predecessors (1895); Dyer's Folk-lore of Shake-
speare (American ed. 1884); Gervinus's Shakespeare Commentaries
(Bunnett's translation, 1875); Wordsworth's Shakespeare's Knowl-
edge of the Bible (3d ed. 1880); Elson's Shakespeare in Music
(1901).

Some of the above books will be useful to all readers who are
interested in special subjects or in general criticism of Shakespeare.
Among those which are better suited to the needs of ordinary
readers and students, the following may be mentioned : Phin's
Cyclopedia and Glossary of Shakespeare (1902, more compact and
cheaper than Dyce); Dowden's Shakspere Primer (1877, small
but invaluable); Rolfe's Shakespeare the Boy (1896, treating of
the home and school life, the games and sports, the manners,
customs, and folk-lore of the poet's time) ; Guerber's Myths of
Greece and Rome (for young students who may need information
on mythological allusions not explained in the notes).

Black's Judith Shakespeare (1884, a novel, but a careful study
of the scene and the time) is a book that I always commend to
young people, and their elders will also enjoy it. The Lambs'
Tales from Shakespeare is a classic for beginners in the study of
the dramatist ; and in Rolfe's ed. the plan of the authors is carried
out in the Notes by copious illustrative quotations from the plays.
Mrs. Cowden-Clarke's Girlhood of Shakespeare's Heroines (several
eds.) will particularly interest girls ; and both girls and boys will
find Bennett's Master Skylark (1897) and Imogen Clark's Will
Shakespeare's Little Lad (1897) equally entertaining and instructive.

1 50 Notes [Act I

H. Snowden Ward's Shakespeare's Town and Times (1896) and
John Leyland's Shakespeare Country (1900) are copiously illus-
trated books (yet inexpensive) which may be particularly com-
mended for school libraries.

It is proper to add that certain books specially useful in the
study of other plays than the Merchant are not included in the above
lists.

ABBREVIATIONS IN THE NOTES. — -The abbreviations of the
names of Shakespeare's plays will be readily understood ; as
T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 Hen. VI. for
The 7^hird Part of King Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to
The Passionate Pilgrim; V. and A. to Venus and Adonis ; L. C.
to Lover's Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets.

Other abbreviations that hardly need explanation are Cf. (confer,
compare), Fol. (following), Id. (idem, the same), and Prol. (pro-
logue). The numbers of the lines in the references (except for the
present play) are those of the " Globe " edition (the cheapest and
best edition of Shakespeare in one compact volume), which is now
generally accepted as the standard for line numbers in works of ref-
erence (Schmidt's Lexicon, Abbott's Grammar, Dowden's Primer^
the publications of the New Shakspere Society, etc.).

ACT I

SCENE I. — In the first folio the play is divided into acts, but
not into scenes, and there is no list of dramatis persona* The
quartos have no such list, and no division at all.

This scene, like many in this play (i. 3, ii. I, 3, 4, 5, 8, etc.) and
others, begins abruptly, the dialogue being already in progress.
Here Antonio's friends have evidently been trying to find out why
he is so melancholy. He says that he cannot explain it himself;

Scene I] Notes 151

and the critics are puzzled by it. For myself, I have no doubt that
it is due to an indefinable presentiment of coming misfortune.
Shakespeare, whether he believed in such premonitions or not,
understood their dramatic value and often introduces them most
effectively. It has been objected, in the present instance, that
" this play is not a tragedy, but a comedy, wherein a tragic keynote
would be falsely struck.'^ But it comes perilously near proving a
tragedy. Antonio suffers all the pangs of death except the last and
least, and the shadow of that impending sorrow may already rest
upon him. No other explanation of the passage that has been
suggested seems to me so simple and satisfactory.

i. In sooth. In truth. The word sooth, which survives in sooth-
sayer (teller of hidden truth), seldom occurs in Shakespeare except
in asseverations, like in sooth, in good sooth, good sooth (as in ii. 6. 42
below), etc.

5. I am to learn. I have yet to find out. These imperfect lines
are not uncommon in the plays.

8. On the ocean. Ocean here is a trisyllable ; as in 2 Hen. IV.
iii. I. 50: "The beachy girdle of the ocean." Final syllables
containing e or i followed by another vowel are often thus length-
ened by Elizabethan and later poets. Cf. opinion, in line 102
below; complexion in ii. I. I; intermission in iii. 2. 199; descrip-
tion in iii. 2. 296; imposition in iii. 4. 33; and other instances in
the present play. Such words are often emphatic, and the length-
ening adds to the emphasis; as in ocean, complexion, etc.

9. Argosies. Merchant vessels, large for that day, though not
exceeding 200 tons. The word (formerly supposed to be from the
classical Argo) is from Ragnsa, a port in Dalmatia, as the old forms,
ragosie, rhaguse, ragusye, etc., indicate.

II. Pageants. The word in S. means usually a theatrical exhibi-
tion, literal or figurative. Originally it meant, the movable theatres
to which Dugdale {Antiquities of Warwickshire, 1656), in his
description of the old plays at Coventry, refers as " theatres for the
principal scenes, very large and high, placed upon wheels, and

152 Notes [Act l

drawn to all the eminent parts of the city for the better advantage
of spectators."

12. Overpeer. Tower above; as in 3 Hen. VI. v. 2. 14: " Whose
top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree."

13. Curtsy. The same word as courtesy ; used of both sexes in
this sense.

15. Venture. Still used in this commercial sense. Forth =
abroad.

17. Still. Ever, constantly, as in 136 below. On plucking the
grass, etc., Ascham (Toxophilus) frequently refers to holding up
" a fether or a lytle lyght grasse," to learn " how the wynd stoode,"
as boys sometimes do nowadays.

27. My wealthy Andrew. My richly freighted ship. Some sup-
pose the name to be taken from that of the famous Genoese admiral,
Andrea Doria, who died 1560.

28. Vailing. Lowering. Cf. " Vail your regard " ( = let fall
your look), M. for M. v. I. 20, etc. The word is contracted from
avail or avale, the French avaler (from Latin ad valient). Editors
and critics have sometimes confounded it with veil.

29. Her burial. That is, her burial place.

35. But even now worth this. The force of this (= all this, so
much) was doubtless meant to be expressed by a gesture -^ perhaps
a sweep of the right arm. Cf. /. C. iv. 3. 26 : " For so much trash
as may be grasped thus " ; where thus is explained by closing the
hand as if to hold the money.

40. To think upon. From thinking upon.

42. Bottom. This word, like venture, is still used in commerce
in the same sense as here. Cf. K. John, ii. I. 73 : "the English
bottoms."

50. Two-headed Janus. In some of the ancient images of Janus
a grave face was associated with a laughing one.

52. Peep through their eyes. That is, eyes half shut with laughter.

54. Other of such vinegar aspect. Other is often plural in S. and
pther writers of the time. Aspect is always accented on the last

Scene I]

Notes

syllable by S. and his contemporaries. Cf. Spenser, F. Q. i. 12. 23 :
"Most ugly shapes, and horrible aspects; " Milton, P. L. iii. 266:
" His words here ended, but his meek aspect," etc.

56. Nestor. The oldest of the Greek heroes in the Iliad, famed
for his wisdom and
gravity. See T. and
C.t in which he is a
character.

61. Prevented.
In its primitive sense
of anticipated. Cf.
Ham. ii. 2. 305, etc.;
also Psalms, cxix.
147, and I Thessa-

62-64. Your

worth, etc. This
speech is character-
istic of Antonio. He
takes Salarino's con-
ventional compli-
ment to his friends
too seriously.

67. Exceeding
strange. S. often TWO-HEADED JANUS

uses exceeding as an

adverb. He uses exceedingly only five times — in four of which it
modifies the adverb well, while in the fifth it modifies an adjective
understood. Exceeding strange = our expression, " very much of a
stranger."

74. Respect upon the world. Regard for the world.

78. A stage. Cf. the famous passage, " All the world's a stage,"
A. Y. L. ii. 7. 139 fol.

79. Let me play the fool. Let the part assigned to me be that of

1 54' Notes [Act l

the fool, who was always one of the characters in the old come-
dies. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. ii. 2. 154 : "thus we play the fools with the
time."

80. Old wrinkles. The wrinkles of age.

81. Liver. Cf. A. and C. ii. I. 23 : "I had rather heat my live*
with drinking."

82. Than my heart cool, etc. There may be an allusion here to
the old belief that every sigh or groan robbed the heart of a drop
of blood. Cf. M. N. D. iii. 2. 97 : " Sighs of love that costs the
fresh blood dear."

84. Alabaster. All the early eds. have " alablaster," the more
common spelling in that day.

85. Creep into the jaundice. In the only other passage in which
S. mentions the jaundice, the cause of the disease is, as here, a
mental one. See T. and C. i. 3. 2.

89. Do cream and mantle. Cf. Lear, iii. 4. 139: "the green
mantle of the standing pool."

90. And do a wilful stillness entertain. And who do maintain
an obstinate silence. This kind of ellipsis is not uncommon when
the sense is clear.

91. Opinion of wisdom. Reputation for wisdom. Opinion is
here a trisyllable, but a quadrisyllable in 102 below.

92. Conceit. Intellect; as often.

93. As who should say. Like one who should say. The early
folios read, " I am sir an Oracle," which some editors prefer; but
cf. " Sir Prudence " ( Temp. ii. I. 286), " Sir Smile " ( W. T. i. 2. ,
196), etc.

96. That therefore only are reputed wise, etc. That are reputed
wise only on this account, that they say nothing. Pope calls silence
" Thou varnisher of fools, and cheat of all the wise."

98. Would almost, etc. That is, they would; an ellipsis of the
nomina'ive, as in 90 above. The meaning is that the hearers could
hardly help calling them fools, and thus exposing themselves to
the judgment threatened in Scripture {Matthewt v. 22).

Scene I] Notes 155

101. This melancholy bait. This bait of melancholy; this melan-
choly as a bait.

102. Fool gudgeon. Old Izaak Walton says of the gudgeon :
" It is an excellent fish to enter (initiate) a young angler, being
easy to be taken." On the adjective use oifool, cf. " fool multitude,"
ii. 9. 25 below.

108. Moe. More; used only with a plural or collective noun.

no. For this gear. For this purpose, or matter; an expression
sometimes used, as here, without very definite meaning.

1 1 6. You shall seek all day. Shall and should are often used
in all three persons, by the Elizabethan writers, to denote mere
futurity.

124. By something shoiving. This adverbial use of something
(= somewhat), which occurs twice in this speech, is common in S.

More swelling port. Grander state. Cf. "greatest port," iii. 2.
276 below.

125. Would grant continuance. That is, continuance of. Such
ellipsis is common in the Elizabethan writers. Cf. ii. 6. 9 and iv. I.
380 below.

1 26. Make moan to be abridged. Complain that I am curtailed.
Cf. " made moan to me," iii. 3. 23 below.

129. My time. My time of life, my youth.

130. Gag*d. Engaged, bound.

136. Still. See on 17 above.

137. Within the eye of honour. Within the range of what can
be viewed (or regarded) as honourable.

139. Occasions. Needs; here a quadrisyllable. See on 8
above.

141. Flight. A technical term to denote the range of an arrow.
Cf. Ascham's Toxophihis : " You must have divers shafts of one
flight, feathered with divers wings, for divers winds." His = itst
which was then just coming into use. See on iii. 2. 82 below.

142. More advised. More careful. Cf. the modern use of un-
advised.

1 56

Notes [Act i

143. To find the other forth. To find uhe other out. Cf. " to
find his fellow forth," C. of E. i. 2. 37.

144. Childhood proof. Experiment of my childhood.

146. Like a 'wilful youth. Elliptical for " like what will happen
with a wilful (that is, wilful in his prodigality) youth."

148. That self way. That same way. Cf. "this self place,"
3 Hen. VI. iii. I. ii; "that self mould," Rich. II. i. 2. 23, etc.

154. Circumstance. Circumlocution; as in Ham. i. 5. 127, etc.

156. In making question, etc. In doubting my readiness to do
all that I can for you.

1 60. Prest. Ready; the old French prest (now pref), Italian
and Spanish presto, from Latin adv. prasto, through the late Latin
prastus.

161. Jtichty left. Left rich. Cf. v. i. 257: "richly come to
harbour."

162. And, fairer than that word. Some take this as connected
with what precedes and emphasizing fair; but it is clearly con-
nected with what follows. Bassanio places her beauty above her
wealth, and her virtues above her beauty. He had been acquainted
with Portia in her father's time (i. 2. 112), before she came into her
fortune, and began to love her then; and, as we see later, he did
not misinterpret the " fair speechless messages " of her eyes. Lady
Martin (Some of Shakespeare1 s Female Characters], commenting on
the opening lines of the next scene, remarks : " Often, no doubt
has she wondered why he has not presented himself among her
suitors. Unconsciously, perhaps, the languor of hope deferred
speaks in these first words we hear from her. The one whom she
thought might possibly have been among the first comers comes
not at all."

163. Sometimes. In time past, formerly. Sometimes and some-
time are used interchangeably by S. in this and their other senses.

165- Nothing undervalued. Nowise inferior. Cf. ii. 7. 53 below.
1 66. Brutus' Portia. See J. C., in which this "woman well
reputed, Cato's daughter," is a prominent character.

Scene II] Notes 157

170. Like a golden fleece, etc. The Argonautic expedition is
Alluded to again, iii. 2. 236 below : " We are the Jasons, we have
won the fleece."

175. I have a mind presages. That is, which presages. See on
90 above.

Thrift. Success. Cf. " well- won thrift " and " thrift is blessing,"
i. 3. 50, 86 below.

177, 178. All my fortunes are at sea, etc. This is not strictly
consistent with 42-44 above; but S. is often careless in these
minor matters.

Commodity. Property. In iii. 3. 27 below the word is used in
the obsolete sense of advantage or gain. Cf. IV. T. iii. 2. 94: "To
me can life be no commodity."

183. Presently. Immediately. Cf. Temp. iv. I. 42: "Ariel.
Presently? Prosper o. Ay, with a twink;" and again, v. I. 101 :
" Prospcro. And presently, I prithee. Ariel. I drink the air before
me, and return Or ere your pulse beat twice." See also I Samuel,
ii. 1 6, and Matthew, xxvi. 53.

185. To have it of my trust, etc. Of obtaining it either on my
credit as a merchant, or as a personal favour.

Note the rhyme in the last couplet, as often at the close of a scene.

SCENE II. — 2. Aweary. A poetical form of weary, but occa-
sionally used in prose, as here.

7. // is no mean happiness. So in the quartos. The folios have
"no small happiness." The repetition is in Shakespeare's manner.

8. Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs. The rich are more
likely to " live fast " and become prematurely old, and therefore to
die the sooner.

26. Nor refuse none. This old double negative is common in S.,
and occasionally we find a triple one; as in T. N. iii. I. 171 : "nor
never none," etc.

32. But one who you shall rightly love. Who is the object, not
the subject, of love, as appears from the question which follows :

i58

Notes

[Act

What affection have you for any of the suitors that are alreaa
come ? Who for whom is not unusual in the writers of the time.
Cf. ii. 6. 30 below.

36. I pray thee, over-name them, etc. The dialogue that follows
is an elaboration of the scene between Julia and Lucetta in T. G.
of V. i. 2.

38. Level at. Aim at, guess. Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 286 : "the
foeman may with as great aim level at the edge of a penknife."

41. Makes it a great appropriation, etc. That is, takes gre
credit to himself for it. S. nowhere else uses either appropriatio
or appropriate.

44. For county — count, see R. and /„ (where it occurs eleven
times), A. W. iii. 7. 22, etc.

46. An you will not. The folio has "And you." And or an
for if is very common in old writers, as well as and if or an if.
Choose ; that is, choose where you will; I don't care.

47. The weeping philosopher. Heracleitus, of Ephesus, who, fron
his melancholy disposition, is represented in various old traditions
as the contrast to Democritus (" the laughing philosopher "), weep
ing over the frailties and follies at which the latter laughed.

49. / had rather to be married. Had rather and had better ar<
good English, though many writers of grammars tell us that
should say would rather, etc., instead. Rather is the comparative
of rath (see Milton, Lycidas : "the rath primrose"), and is often
found in the old writers in the sense of earlier, sooner. Thu
Spenser, Shep. Kal. Feb., speaks of "the rather lambes." For to
after had rather, cf. Oth. i. 3. 191 : "I had rather to adopt
child," etc.

53. How say you by, etc. By here, as not unfrequently = abou
or concerning. Cf. ii. 9. 24 : " may be meant By the fool multi-
tude." So Latimer (Serm.) : " How think you by the ceremo
nies," etc.

71. Proper. Comely, good-looking ; as often. Cf. Hebrnvs, xi.
23 : "a proper child," etc.

Scene II] Notes 1 59

73. Suited. Dressed. Cf. "richly suited," A. W.\. I. 170, etc.

Doublet. " The doublet (so called from being originally lined or
wadded for defence) was a close-fitting coat, with skirts reaching a
little below the girdle." The " round hose " were coverings for the
legs, not the feet — " trowsers or breeches, reaching to the knee."
The phrase " doublet and hose," as equivalent to " coat and
breeches," occurs often in S. Bonnet, originally the name of a stuff,
came to be applied to the man's cap made of it, as it still is in
Scottish.

76. The Scottish lord. The Scottish of the quartos, printed before
the accession of James I., was changed to other in the folio of 1623,
to avoid giving offence to that monarch.

82. Sealed under for another. Became surety for another box
on the ear. The whole passage is ironical. The Scotchman is toe
cowardly to return the blow, and the Frenchman offers to do it for
him.

92. You should refuse. Should is often thus used by S. where we
should use would. Cf. iii. 2. 267 below.

104. Some other sort. Some other way. Imposition = condition
imposed. In iii. 4. 33 the word is used again in this literal sense of
something " laid upon " one as a burden or duty.

106. Sibylla. Here used as a proper name, like " Sibyl " in T. of
S. i. 2. 70. So Bacon, in Colours of Good and Evil, 10, speaks of
" Sybilla, when she brought her three books." The reference here
is 'to the Cumaean Sibyl, who, according to Ovid, obtained from
Apollo a promise that her years should be as many as the grains of
sand she was holding in her hand.

108. This parcel of wooers. Cf. " This youthful parcel of noble
bachelors," A. W. ii. 3. 58.

123. The four strangers. There were six of them. Perhaps two
were added after the first draft of the play ; or, quite as likely, it is
another illustration of S.'s carelessness. See on i. I. 177, 178.

127. With so good heart as, etc. We now seldom use so . . . as,
preferring as . . . as9 except where so requires special emphasis.

160 Notes [Act I

129. Condition. Nature, disposition. Cf. Oth. ii. I. 255 : "she's
full of most blessed condition." Cf. also " best conditioned," iii, 2.
288 below.

133> Whiles. The genitive singular of while (which was origi-
nally a noun) used as an adverb. It occurs in Matthew, v. 25.

SCENE III. — I. Ducats. The value of the Venetian silver ducat
was about that of the American dollar.

4. For the which. This archaism is occasionally found in S., as
in the Bible (Genesis, i. 29, etc.).

7. May you stead me ? Can you assist me ? May originally
expressed ability, as the noun might still does. Can, on the other
hand, signified " to know or have skill." On stead, cf. M. for M.
i. 4. 1 7 : " Can you so stead me As bring me to the sight of
Isabella?"

Pleasure me. So in M. W. i. I. 251 : " What I do is to pleasure
you, coz."

12. A good man. That is, "good" in the commercial sense —
" having pecuniary ability ; of unimpaired credit."

17. In supposition. Doubtful, risked at sea.

1 8. Tripolis. The old name of Tripoli, a seaport of Syria, for-
merly of great commercial importance. Some take it to be the port
of the same name in Barbary ; but this would seem to be disproved
by the mention of both Tripolis and Barbary in iii. 2. 263, 264.
The mention of Mexico in both passages is a slip noted by Karl
Elze, as Venice does not appear to have had any trade with that
country.

20. Rialto. The chief of the islands on which Venice was built.
See p. 28 above. The name is from rivo (or rio) alto, deep stream ;
not, as often stated, from riva alta, high bank. Rivo alto is some-
times wrongly translated as " high shore " or " high bank." Some
editors also err in saying that the present bridge is not the one
built in 1588-91. It took the place of an earlier wooden bridge,
but has never been rebuilt.

Scene III] Notes l6l

21. Squandered. Scattered. So in Howell's Letters, 1650, we
have " islands that lie squandered in the vast ocean." S. uses the
word only here and in A. Y. L. ii. 7. 57: "squandering glance's."

22. There be land-rats. In old English, besides the present
tense am, etc., there was also this form be, from the Anglo-Saxon
beon. The 2d pers. sing, was beest. The 1st and 3d pers. plu. be is
often found in S. and the Bible.

32. If it please you. This impersonal form (cf. the French s>il
vous plait}, after being contracted into if you please, has come to
be considered as personal, and we now say if I please, if he pleases,
etc.

34. Nazarite. In the time of S. confounded with Nazarene.
For Nazarite in the proper sense, see Numbers, vi.

36. And so following. And so forth. S. uses the phrase nowhere
else.

41. Publican. Probably a tax-collector, not an innkeeper. Some
critics consider fawning inconsistent with the former sense ; but
the publicans, while arrogant to inferiors, might find it politic to fawn
upon their superiors.

42. For he is a Christian. We should now say, for being a
Christian. When thus used, for is often followed by that, as in the
next line. Of course we could now say, " I hate him, for he is a
Christian," but the meaning would be different. In this case, as in
the other, the for is equivalent to because, but it connects more
loosely, as the comma indicates. The difference in meaning is
perhaps better illustrated by a case like the following ( M. for M.

" You may not so extenuate his offence
For I have had such faults ; "

that is, the fact that I have been guilty is no excuse for him. The
modern reading would make nonsense of it.

46. Upon the hip. To " catch upon the hip " was a phrase used
by wrestlers. Cf. iv. I. 327 below, and Oth. ii. I. 314.

51. Which he calls interest. Usance, usury, and interest were

HER. OF VEN. — II

1 62 Notes [Act i

equivalent terms in S.'s day. It was disreputable to take interest
at all. It was considered " against nature for money to beget
money." See Bacon's Essay on Usurie.

53. Debating of my present store. Of is often used by the
Elizabethan writers in the sense of about or concerning. Cf. Temp.
ii. i. 8 1 : " You make me study of that," etc.

59. Rest you fair. God grant you good fortune ! You is the
object, not the subject, of rest. Cf. " Rest you merry ! " {R. and J.
i. 2. 65) and "God rest you merry! " {A. Y. L. v. i. 165).

62. Excess. More than the sum lent or borrowed; interest.

63. Ripe wants. Wants that admit of no delay, like ripe fruit
that must be gathered at once.

64. Possessed. Informed. Cf. iv. i. 35 below: "I have pos-
sess'd your grace of what I purpose." The question is addressed
to Bassanio.

65. How much you would. Would is often used absolutely, as
here, for wish or require.

67. / had forgot. Of course this falsehood is part of Shylock's
strategy. You told me so is said to Bassanio.

69. Methought. This thought is from the Anglo-Saxon verb
thyncan, to seem, and not from thencan, to think. It is used im-
personally, the me being a dative. Methought = it seemed to me.

71. When Jacob, etc. See Genesis, xxvii. and xxx.

74. The third possessor. Jacob may be included, as some sup-
pose; but it is more likely that Shylock refers to Esau, who had
been cheated of his heritage by the trickery of his " wise mother."

78. Were compromised. Had mutually agreed.

79. Eanlings. Lambs just brought forth; from Anglo-Saxon
eanian, to bring forth. Yeanling is another form of the same
word, and was substituted by Pope here.

Pied. Spotted. We have " daisies pied " in L. L. L. v. 2. 904
(and in Milton's D ' Allegro} ; and in Temp. iii. 2. 71 Caliban calls
Trinculo a "pied ninny," from the particoloured coat which he
wore as a jester.

Scene III] Notes 1 63

Si. Piird me. Peeled. Cf. the Bible narrative (Genesis, xxx.
37, 38). The me is expletive, as often. See the dialogue between
Petruchio and Grumio in T. of S. i. 2. 8 fol.

84. Fall. Let fall, bring forth.

90. Was this inserted, etc. Was this inserted in Scripture to
justify usury?

94. The devil can cite Scripture. See Matthew, iv. 4, 6.

95, Producing holy witness. Adducing sacred authority.

10 1. beholding. Often used by S., Bacon, and other writers of
the time, instead of beholden.

102. Many a time and oft. An old phrase, still familiar. Here
Shylock, perhaps irritated by Antonio's impatient question, which
reminds him of the Merchant's arrogant and contemptuous treat-
ment of him in the past, forgets for the moment the part he is
playing; but Antonio's angry and scornful reply shows him the
mistake he has made, and he at once resumes his artfully friendly
tone.

107. Misbeliever. Strictly, one who believes wrongly, as un-
believer is one who does not believe, or an infidel. S. uses the
word only here.

108. Spet. An obsolete spelling of spit, used occasionally by S.,
as it is by Milton in the one instance {Comus, 132) in which he
employs the word.

Gaberdine. A long coarse frock. See Temp. ii. 2. 40, 115.
The garment and the name are still used by the peasantry in some
parts of England.

in. Go to. A phrase of exhortation or encouragement, some-
times used scornfully. Cf. Temp. v. I. 297, etc.; also Genesis, xi.
4, etc.

130. A breed of barren metal. Breed is money bred from the
principal. Shylock had used the same metaphor for interest. Cf.
Middleton, The Blacke Booke : " coming to repay both the money
and the breed of it — for interest may well be called the usurer's
bastard," etc.

164 Notes [Act i

132. Who if he break. The "relative with a supplementary
pronoun " often occurs in the writers of the time. Cf. V. and A.

935 •• —

" Who, when he liv'd, his breath and beauty set

Gloss on the rose, smell on the violet."

•' If he break? that is, "break his day," fail to fulfil his engage-
ment. Shylock uses the phrase in 159 below.

134. I would be friends with you. A " grammatical impropriety,"
but even now a familiar idiom.

136. Doit. A small Dutch coin, worth about a quarter of a cent.

141. Your single bond. Your individual bond, without sureties.

In a merry sport. In the old ballad of Gernutus (see page 24
above) the Jew says : —

11 But we will haue a merry iest,

for to be talked long :
You shall make me a Band (quoth he)
that shall be large and strong.

" And this shall be the forfeyture,

of your own Flesh a pound :
If you agree, make you the Band,
and here is a hundred Crownes."

144. Let the forfeit, etc. Let the forfeit named be an exact
{equal ) pound of your flesh.

147. Pleaseth me. That is, " it pleaseth me " (the folio reading).
See on 32 above.

151. Dwell. Continue, remain.

157. Dealings teaches them suspect. According to Abbott ( Gram-
mar, 333) and others, teaches is an instance of the old Northern
plural in es, which is sometimes found in Elizabethan writers.
They also sometimes omit the to of the infinitive (as here in suspect)
after certain verbs which now require it, and sometimes insert it
where now it is omitted.

Scene III] Notes 165

163. Muttons, beefs. These Norman-French words are here used
in their original sense. The plural beeves is still used for the living
animals, and the singular form beeve is occasionally met with.

165. If he will take it, so. That is, so be it, or something of the
kind. So was often thus used as a particle of assent or affirmation.

1 66. For my love. " For love's sake," as we say; or, perhaps,
"as regards my love," or friendly feeling.

171. Fearful guard Of an unthrifty knave. Fearful = to be
feared or distrusted ; untrustworthy. Knave, which meant origi-
nally only a boy, and now means only a rogue, was in current use in
S.'s time with either signification.

ACT II

SCENE I. — The stage direction in the first folio is : " Enter
Morochus a tawnie Moore all in white, and three or foure followers
accordingly, with Portia, Nerrissa, and their traine. Flo. Cornets."

I. Complexion. A quadrisyllable. See on i. 1.8 above.

6. Let us make incision, etc. Red blood was a traditionary sign
of courage. Below (iii. 2. 86) Bassanio talks of cowards who " have
livers white as milk."

7. Reddest. The use of the superlative in a comparison of two
objects, though condemned by most of the modern grammars, is

' good old English. 9

8. Aspect . . . feared. On the accent of aspect, see on i. I. 54
above. Feared— caused to fear, terrified. In T. of S. i. 2. 211
we have both senses of fear in close connection : " Petruchio. Tush !
tush ! fear boys with bugs. Grumio. For he fears none."

10. Best-regarded. Of highest estimation.

12. To steal your thoughts. To gain your love. Thought (both
in the singular and the plural) not unfrequently refers to love in S.,
and steal is often associated with love, as suggesting its gradual
and imperceptible development. Cf. v. i. 19 below, for instance.

1 66 Notes [Act il

Note, by the way, that Morocco, though he may have come to
Belmont as a fortune hunter, is honestly enamoured of the lady, as
this entire speech, and all that he says, clearly prove. It is, indeed,
his admiration and love for her that lead him to choose the wrong
casket. Portia understands this, and, true woman that she is,
shows it in her gentle, half-pitying treatment of him, though she is
glad, of course, that he fails in the lottery.
14. Nice direction. Fastidious estimation.

17. Scanted. Limited, restricted. Cf. iii. 2. 112 below: "Scant
this excess "; and v. I. 141 : " Scant this breathing courtesy."

1 8. Wit. In its original sense of foresight, ivisdom, as in the
familiar expressions, " at his wit's end," " lost his wits," etc.

20. Yourself. The pronouns myself, thyself, etc., were often used
in S.'s time (as they still are in poetry) as the subject of a verb.

Stood as fair. Would have stood. In fair some suspect an
allusion to the Moor's complexion, but this is not probable.

25. The Sophy. The Sufi, or Shah of Persia. Cf. T. N. ii. 5.
197, and iii. 4. 307. Bacon {Essay 43) speaks of " Ismael, the
Sophy of Persia."

26. Sultan Solyman. The most famous sultan of this name was
Solyman the Magnificent, who reigned from 1520 to 1566.

31. Alas the while ! This expression, like Woe the while ! (J. C.
i. 3. 82), seems originally to have meant, " Alas for the present state
of things ! " but it came to be used as indefinitely as the simple alas !

32. Hercules and Lichas. Lichas«was the servant who brought
to Hercules the poisoned tunic from Dejanira.

Play at dice Which is, etc. That is, in order to decide which is,
etc. " The Elizabethan writers objected to scarcely any ellipsis,
provided the deficiency could be easily supplied from the context."

35. Alcides beaten by his page. Alcides was the original name
of Hercules, given him on account of his descent from Alcaeus, the
son of Perseus.

42. Be advis'd. Consider well, do not decide in haste. Cf*
advised in. i. I. 142.

Scene II] Notes 1 67

43. Nor will not. That is, will not " speak to lady," etc.

44. The temple. The chapel where the oath was to be taken.
46. Blest or cursed^st. Blest is an instance of the ellipsis of the

superlative ending, not unusual at that time. Cf. M. for M. iv. 6.
13: "The generous and gravest citizens." So Heywood: "Only
the grave and wisest of the land; " and Ben Jonson: "The soft
and sweetest music." In iii. 2. 288 we have " The best-conditioned
and unwearied spirit," where the ellipsis is in the second adjective.

SCENE II. — The stage direction in the early eds. is " Enter the
flowne alone"

i. Certainly my conscience will serve, etc. This seems to express
a hope rather than an assurance that this will be the result of the
conflict between his conscience and the " fiend."

7. As aforesaid. From Launcelot's frequent use of legal phrase-
ology we might infer that he had been in a lawyer's employ before
he became the servant of Shylock; but the Jew, of course, was
often engaged in litigation, and Launcelot may have picked up his
law terms from that source.

9. Scorn running with thy heels. The play upon heels is obvi-
ous. Cf. Much Ado, iii. 4. 51 : "I scorn that with my heels."

10. Via ! Away ! (Italian). Cf. M. W. ii. 2. 159, L. L. L. v. i.
156, etc.

11. For the heavens! Mason proposed to change heavens to
haven, because " it is not likely that S. would make the Devil con-
jure Launcelot to do anything for Heaven 's sake ; " but obviously
the wit of the expression consists in that very incongruity.

19. ' Fiend? say /, * you counsel well.1 This is the folio reading;
but some editors prefer that of the quarto, " counsel ill.91 Launce-
lot probably says well because he prefers the fiend's advice.

21. God bless (or save) the mark ! The origin and the meaning
of this expression are alike obscure. It appears to be used most
frequently " as a parenthetic apology for some profane or vulgar
word*"

1 68 Notes [Act II

25. Incarnation. For incarnate, of course.

31. Enter old Gobbo. The name is Italian for hunchback, and
Steevens inferred that S. intended the character " to be represented
with a hump back "; but the name was probably then a family one
in Italy, as it is now. The Washington Hotel in Florence is now
(1902) kept by a Gobbo, and I have seen the name in Pisa also.
For the statue called // Gobbo di Rialto, see p. 34 above. Tourists
who have been in Verona will recollect another venerable // Gobbo
which sustains a holy-water basin in the church of Santa Anastasia.

34. Sand-blind. Dim of sight; as if there were sand in the
eye, or perhaps floating before it. High-gravel-blind is Launcelot's
own exaggeration of the word.

35. Confusions. A blunder for conclusions, which is the reading
of one of the early quartos. To " try conclusions " (Ham. iii. 4.
195) was to try experiments.

41. Marry. A corruption of Mary. It was originally a mode
of swearing by the Virgin, but its origin had come to be forgotten
in S.'s day.

43. God's sonties. Corrupted from God's saints, or sanctities, or
sante (health) — it is impossible to decide which.

50. No master, sir, etc. Furnivall quotes Sir Thomas Smith's
Commonwealth of England (ed. 1612) : "As for gentlemen, they be
made good cheap in England. For whosoeuer studieth the laws of
the Realm, who studieth in the Uniuersities, who professeth liberall
Sciences : and to be short, who can liue idely, and without manuall
labour, and will beare the port, charge and countenance of a Gen-
tleman, hee shall bee called master, for that is the tytle which men
giue to Esquires, and other Gentlemen, and shall bee taken for a
Gentleman."

52. Well to live. " With every prospect of a long life."

53. What a' will. A1 for he is common in the old dramatists, in
the mouths of peasants and illiterate people.

55. Your worship's friend and Launcelot. This has perplexed
Ihe critics. We might expect " but Launcelot " — from an/body

Scene II] Notes 169

but Old Gobbo. He seems to mean, " He is your friend, and so
you treat him as an equal and call him Master, but I call him plain
Launcelot"

57. Talk you of young Master Launcelot? The early eds. make
this imperative, and not interrogative, and are followed by some
editors, but the majority are clearly right in regarding it as a
question. Master is emphatic.

60. Father. Launcelot twice calls Gobbo father, but the old
man does not even suspect with whom he is talking, since the
peasantry used to call all old people father or mother.

62. The sisters three. The Fates of classic fable.

87. Your child that shall be. Here some of the critics have been
mystified by Launcelot's incongruous talk. Malone says, " Launce-
lot probably here indulges himself in talking nonsense," but he is
not quite sure about it; and Steevens suggests that he "may mean
that he shall hereafter prove his claim to the title of child by his
dutiful behaviour," etc.

95. Lord worshipped. Perhaps, as some explain it = a lord
worshipful, referring to the beard and the claim to the title of
Master ; or Lord worshipped may he be! may be, as Mr. Gum-
mere suggests, " merely another way of saying ' Lord be praised ! ' '^
According to stage tradition, Launcelot kneels with his back to the
old man, who, " being sand-blind," mistakes the hair on his head
for a beard.

97. Fill-horse. Fill for thill, or shaft, is a familiar word in New
England, but in old England it is not known except as a provin-
cialism in the Midland counties. We have " i' the fills " in T. and
C. iii. 2. 48.

103. Gree. The spelling of all the early eds.

105. I have set up my rest. That is, I have determined. "A
metaphor taken from play, where the highest stake the parties were
disposed to venture was called the rest." The expression occurs
several times in the plays.

Iio. Give me your present. See on i. 3. 81 above.

i yo

Notes

[Act II

122. Gramercy. A corruption of the French grand merci^
"great thanks"; but it was often used as an expression of sur-
prise, like " mercy on us ! " as if derived from grant mercy.

132. Cater-cousins. The origin of the word is doubtful, but the
meaning evidently is, that they do not seem much akin, or do not

agree very well.

137. A dish of doves. See p. 31
above.

148. Preferred thee. To prefer
often meant to " recommend for
promotion," and sometimes to
"promote."

151. The old proverb. Alluding
to the Scotch proverb, "The grace
of God is gear enough."

157. Guarded. Trimmed, orna-
mented. The broidered edging
guarded (protected) the cloth
from wear. See Hen. VIII. prol.
1 6 and Much Ado, i. I. 288.

158. In. Go in; as in C. of
E. v. i. 37, etc.

159. Well, if any man, etc.
The construction is, " Well, if any
man in Italy which doth offer to
swear upon a book have a fairer
table " — the expression being like

After having thus admired his
As Johnson

FROM A BOOK ON CHIROMANCY,
1558.

"any man that breathes," etc.

table, he breaks off to predict his good fortune.

remarks, " the act of expanding his hand " reminds him of laying

it on the book in taking an oath.

In chiromancy, or palmistry, the table line, or line of fortune, is
the one running from the forefinger below the other fingers to the
side of the hand. The natural line is the one running through the

Scene IV] Notes 17 1

middle of the palm. The line of life is the one which encircles
the ball of the thumb. The space between the two first is called
mensa, or the table.

163. Aleven. A vulgarism for eleven.

1 68. For this gear. See on i. i. no above.

172. Bestowed. Put away, disposed of. Cf. 2 Kings , v. 24, etc.
See also/. C. i. 3. 151, etc.

182. Hear thee. In this, as in some other expressions (" fare
thee well," etc.), thee appears to be used for thou, and not reflexively.

187. Liberal. Free, reckless; but not in so bad a sense as in
Much Ado, iv. 1.93 ("a liberal villain"), where it means licentious.

Take pain. We now use only the plural, " take pains." S.
uses both. See below, v. i. 180.

189. Thy skipping spirit. Thy frolicsome humour. Cf. Ham.
Hi. 4. 123: "Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle
cool patience." Spirit is often a monosyllable, as if pronounced
sprit (not sprite}.

198. Studied in a sad ostent. Trained to put on a sober aspect.
Below (ii. 8. 44) we have " fair ostents (manifestations, tokens) of
love."

207. / must to Lorenzo. This ellipsis of the verb was common,
especially after will; as "I '11 to him," R. and J. iii. 2. 141, etc.

SCENE III. — 10. Exhibit. For inhibit (restrain).

15. What heinous sin. Possibly this is one of the instances in
which what is used for what a. Cf. /. C. i. 3. 42 : »' What night is
this ! " But sin may be used in the general sense of sinfulness.

SCENE IV. — 5. We have not spoke us yet of. We have not yet
bespoken.

6. Quaintly. Tastefully, gracefully. Quaint in the old writers
means elegant, and hence artful, ingenious. In Johnson's day it
had come to mean affected, and now it has " the united sense of
antique and odd" Cf. " quaint lies " below, iii. 4. 69.

172 Notes [Act ii

7. Not undertook. We have " undertaken " in W. T. iii. 2. 79,
and "to be undertook" in Oth. v. 2. 311. S. often uses two or
more forms of the participle. Thus in J. C. we have stricken,
struck, and strucken. So we find mistook and mistaken, etc. We
must bear in mind that the Elizabethan age was a transitional
period in the history of the language.

10. Break up. Break open. Break up was a term in carving;
and in L. L. L. iv. I. 56 we have "break up this capon," where
the " capon " is a letter.

13. Writ. S. uses both writ and wrote for the past tense, and
writ, written, and wrote for the participle.

23. Provided of. Of is often used of the agent (where we use
by), and of the instrument (for with), as here. Cf. Macb. i. 2. 13*
" supplied of kernes," etc.

26. Some hour. About an hour; as we say some two hours, some
six months ago, etc.

29. Needs. Of necessity ; a genitive used adverbially.

Directed . . . What gold, etc. The ellipsis here is very like what
is called a zeugma.

35. Dare. Either the "subjunctive used imperatively" or the
3d pers. of the imperative.

37. Faithless. Unbelieving; as in Matthew, xvii. 17.

SCENE V. — 2. Difference of. Cf. Lear, iv. 2. 26 : " O, the differ-
ence of man and man ! " See also h. I. 361 below.

3. What, Jessica ! A customary exclamation of impatience, in
calling to persons; like when ( 7^emp. \. 2. 316, J. C. ii. I. 5, etc.).

11. Bid forth. Invited out. Cf. " find forth," i. I. 143 above,
and " feasting forth," 37 below. S. uses bidden only in Much Ado,
iii. 3. 32. He uses both bade and bid for the past tense. See on
ii. 5. 7 above.

17. Towards my rest. Against my peace of mind. To dream
of money was supposed to be unlucky.

18. To-night. That is. last night; as in /. C. iii. 3. I : "I

Scene V] Notes 173

dream'd to-night that I did feast with Caesar." Usually in S. it has
its modern meaning.

21. So do I his. Shylock plays upon Launcelot's blunder of
reproach for approach.

25. Black- Monday. Easter Monday; so called, as the old
chronicler Stowe tells us, because "in the 34th of Edward III.
(1360), the 1 4th of April, and the morrow after Easter-day, King
Edward with his host lay before the city of Paris : which day was
full dark of mist and hail, and so bitter cold that many men died
on their horses' backs with the cold."

30. The wry-neck? d fife. Wry-necked may refer to the fife or to
the fifer, but the former is more probable, on account of the preced-
ing drum. Barnaby Rich (1618) says : "A fife is a wry-neckt musi-
cian, for he always looks away from his instrument." On the other
hand, the old English fife (like one used in classical times) had a
bent mouthpiece. It was called the flute a bee, as the mouthpiece
resembled the beak of a bird.

36. Jacob's staff. See Genesis, xxxii. 10, and Hebrews, xi. 21. In
Spenser, F. Q. i. 6. 35, " lacobs staffe " more probably refers to
St. James (Jacobus), who is usually represented with a pilgrim's
hat and staff.

37. Of feasting forth. Of —for, as often. See on n above.
43. Jewess' eye. It is "Jewes" in the quartos and 1st and 2d

folios, " Jew's " in the later folios. Pope suggested Jewess1, which
has been generally adopted. Launcelot's phrase is a slight altera-
tion of the proverbial expression, Worth a Jew's eye. The Jews
were often threatened with the loss of an eye, or some other muti-
lation, in order to extort treasure from them.

46. Patch. A name given to the professional jester (from his
patched or particoloured coat), and afterwards used as a term of
contempt.

52. Perhaps I will return. The shade of meaning is such as
would now be expressed by will — "Perhaps I may decide to re-
turn," or something of the sort. " I shall return " would be future

174 Notes [Act ii

pure and simple; "I will return" adds the idea that the possible
future act depends upon the speaker's will.

SCENE VI. — 5. Venus' pigeons. The chariot of Venus was
drawn by doves. In Temp. iv. I. 94 she is described as "dove-
drawn," and her " doves " are also referred to in M. N. D. i. I. 171,
etc.

7. Obliged. Pledged, plighted.

9. Sits down. That is, sits down with. So in the next sentence,
"pace them (with)." This ellipsis of a preposition which has
already been expressed before the relative is quite common in S.
Cf. below (iv. I. 382) : " A gift of all (of which) he dies possess'd."
See also on i. I. 125 above.

10. Untread again. Retrace.

14. Younger. The reading of all the early eds., changed by
some to younker, which S. uses in I Hen. IV. iii. 3. 92 and 3 Hen.
VL ii. i. 24.

15. Scarfed. Decked with flags and streamers. In A. W. ii. 3.
214 "scarfs" are associated with " bannerets " in the comparison
of a person to a " vessel."

17. How like the prodigal doth she return. The reference to the
Scripture parable is obvious. The she is naturally used of the bark.

1 8. Over-weathered. Weatherbeaten.

30. Who love 7, etc. -The inflection of who is often neglected.
Directly after a preposition, whom is usually found. Cf. L. L. L. ii.
I. 2: "Consider ivho the king your father sends, To whom he
sends." But in Cymb. iv. 2. 75 and Oth. i. 2. 52 we have the in-
terrogative who even after a preposition : " To who ? " See on i. 2.
32 above. Sweet, in his Short Historical English Grammar (Ox-
ford, 1892), says : " In present spoken English whom may be said
to be extinct, except in the rare construction with a preposition
immediately before it."

35. Exchange. That is, of apparel.

42. Too-too light. " Too-too " was often (as here) a compound

Scene VII] Notes 175

epithet, and should then have the hyphen; but in some cases (as
in Ham. i. 2. 129: "this too, too solid flesh") it was an emphatic
repetition, just as it is now.

43. An office of discovery ', etc. The office of a torchbearer is to
show what is in the way, but I ought to keep in the shade.

47. Close. Secret, stealthy.

51. By my hood. Probably swearing by the hood of his masque
dress. In Gentile there is perhaps a play upon gentle, which is
found in some of the early eds.

52. Beshrew me. A very mild imprecation, often used playfully
and even tenderly.

54. If that. This use of that as " a conjunctional affix " was
common. Thus we have " when that," " why that," " while that,"
" though that," " since that," etc.

67. Glad on V. S. often uses on where we should use of. In
Temp. i. 2, on 't = of it occurs three times. See also I Samuel,
xxvii. II.

SCENE VII. — 4. Of gold, who. In the Elizabethan age, which
was not yet established as the neuter relative. It was often applied
to persons (as in the Lord's Prayer, " Our Father which art in
heaven ") and who to things. In the next line but one, we have
" silver, which."

5. Who chooseth, etc. The inscriptions are all in Alexandrines
(verses of six accents or twelve syllables).

26. If thou be'st rated. This beest must not be confounded with
the subjunctive be. It is the Anglo-Saxon bist, 2d pers. sing. pres.
indicative of bedn, to be. See on i. 3. 22 above.

29. Afeard. S. uses afeard and afraid interchangeably.

30. Disabling. Disparaging; as in A. Y. L. iv. I. 34. v. 4. 80,
etc.

34. But more than these, in lave I do deserve. This line alone

would prove that Morocco is really in love. See on ii. I. 12 above.

41. Hyrcanian. Hyrcania was an extensive tract of country

I76

Notes

[Act II

southeast of the Caspian. S. three times mentions the tigers of
Hyrcania: 3 Hen. VI. i. 4. 155, Macb. iii. 4. 101, and Ham. ii. 2.
472. Vasty = waste, desolate, like the Latin vastus. S. uses vast
several times as a noun — waste.

42. Through/ares. Thorough and through are the same word,
and S. uses either as suits the measure. So with throughly and
thoroughly. We find throughfare again in Cymb. i. 2. n.

43. Come view. Come to view. See on i. 3. 157 above.
49. Like. Likely; as very often.

GOLDEN ANGEL OF QUEEN ELIZABETH

50. Too^gross, etc. Too coarse a material to enclose her shroud.
Cerecloth — cerement (Ham. i. 4. 48), cloth smeared with melted
Wax (Lat. cerd) or gums, for embalming the dead.
I 51. Obscure has the accent on the first syllable, like many dis-
syllabic adjectives and participles when used before a noun.

53. Undervalued, etc. See on i. I. 165 above. During the
Middle Ages, and down to the sixteenth century, the value of
silver was T^ and ^j, and even, as here stated, T\j that of gold.
In the latter part of the seventeenth century it fell to as low as T\.
In the eighteenth it rose to y^, and is now ^ or less.

57. Insculfd upon. Graven on the outside. The angel was
worth about ten shillings. It had on one side a figure of MichaeJ
piercing the dragon; The use of the device is said to have origi-

Scene VIII] Notes 177

nated in Pope Gregory's pun of Angli and Angeli. Verstegan, in his
Restitution of Decayed Intelligence, says : " The name of Engel is
yet at this present in all the Teutonick tongues, to wit, the high
and low Dutch, &c., as much to say as Angel, and if a Dutch-man
be asked how he would in his language call an Angel-like-man, he
would answer, ein English-man, Engel being in their tongue an
Angel, and English, which they write Engehche, Angel-like. And
such reason and consideration may have moved our former kings,
upon their best coin of pure and fine gold, to set the image of an
angel."

63. A carrion death. That is, a skull.

65. Glisters. Glisten does not occur in S. nor in Milton. In
both we find glister several times.

77. Part. Depart, See Cor. v. 6. 73 : " When I parted hence/'
etc. Depart was also used where we should say part ; as in the
Marriage Service, " till death us do part " is a corruption of " till
death us depart."

SCENE VIII. — 12. A passion. Passionate outcry. Cf. T. and
C. v. 2. 181 : "Your passion draws ears hither."

27. Reasoned. Talked, conversed; as in Rich. III. ii. 3. 39, etc.

28. The narrow seas. The English Channel — a name not unfre-
quently applied to it in that day. It occurs again iii. I. 4 below.

30. Fraught. We now use fraught ( = freighted) only in a
figurative sense. Fraught is used as a noun in T. N. v. I. 64 and
Oth. iii. 3. 449. Freight does not occur in S. or Milton.

33. You were best. Originally the you was dative (to you it were
best), but it came to be regarded as a nominative. Cf. J. C. iii. 3.
13: "Ay, and truly, you were best;" Temp. i. 2. 366: "Thou'rt
best;" r. N. \. 2. 27: "She were better," etc. See also v. I. 175
below.

39. Slubber. To do carelessly or imperfectly. It also means to
obscure, or soil; as in Oth. i. 3. 227: "slubber the gloss of your
new fortunes."

MER. OF YEN. — 12

178 Notes [Act ii

40. Piping. Ripeness, maturity.

42. Mind of love. That is, loving mind. Cf. "mind of honour,"
M. for M. ii. 4. 179.

44. Ostents. Manifestations, displays. See on ii. 2. 198 above.

45. Conveniently. In its original sense, fitly, suitably. Cf. the
adjective in iii. 4. 56 below.

47. Turning his face, etc. As Malone suggests, we have here
"the outline of a beautiful picture."

48. Sensible. Sensitive. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 337 : " Love's feel-
ing is more soft and sensible Than are the tender horns of cockled
snails."

52. Quicken his embraced heaviness. Enliven the melancholy
he indulges. Cf. iii. 2. 109 below: " rash-embrac'd despair."

53. Do we so. ist pers. imperative (or " subjunctive used impera-
tively ") ; a form not uncommon in S. Cf. Hen. V. iv. 8. 127 : " Do
we all holy rites ! " See also v. I. 36 below.

SCENE IX. — 18. Addressed me. Prepared myself.
Fortune now, etc. Success now to the hope of my heart !

25. By the fool multitude. For by, see on i. 2. 53; and for the
adjective fool, on i. I. 102 above.

26. Fond. Foolish; as usually in S. Cf. iii. 3. 9 below.

27. The martlet. The house-martin. Cf. Macb. i. 6. 4: "the
temple-haunting martlet."

28. In the weather. Exposed to the weather. Cf. Cymb. iii. 3. 64 :
" left me bare to weather."

31. Jump with. Agree with. Cf. Rich. III. iii. I. ii: "out-
ward show, which . . . seldom or never jumpeth with the heart."
Jump also means to risk, hazard, as in Macb. i. 7. 7 : "jump the
life to come."

40. Estates. Ranks. Cf. Ham. v. i. 244: " 't was of some
estate" (that is, high rank).

43. Should cover, etc. Should wear their hats, that now take
them off, as to superiors.

Scene ix] Notes 179

47. Ruin. Refuse, rubbish.

52. Too long a pause, etc. This is perhaps an Aside, as Capell
and Furness assume, but I doubt it.

60. To offend, etc. That is, an offender cannot be the judge of
his own case. For the accent of distinct, see on ii. 7. 51 above.

62. Fire. As often, a dissyllable. In /. C. iii. I. 171 we have
it both as a monosyllable and as a dissyllable : " As fire drives out
fire, so pity pity." Hours is a dissyllable four times in as many
lines in 3 Hen. VL ii. 5. 31-34, and a monosyllable four lines below.
Cf. iii. 2. 20 below.

67. I wis. This is a corruption of the adverbial ywis (certainly),
but S. no doubt regarded it as a pronoun and verb.

71. You are sped. Your fate is settled. Cf. "you two are sped,"
T. of S. v. 2. 185. See also Lycidas, 122: "What need they?
They are sped."

77. Wroth. Some make the word = ruth (sorrow) ; but others
take it to be another form of wrath, used in the old sense of
misfortune or calamity.

84. My lord. Used jestingly in response to the my lady. So
in I Hen. IV. ii. 4. 317 the prince says, "How now, my lady the
hostess ? " in reply to her " My Ior4 the Prince ! " In Rich. II. v.
5. 67, also, a groom addresses the king, "Hail, royal prince ! " and
Richard replies, " Thanks, noble peer ! "

88. Sensible regreets. Tangible greetings, substantial salutations.
Regreet strictly means a responsive greeting. The noun occurs
again in K.John, iii. I. 241.

89. Commends. Cf. Rich. II. iii. I. 38 : "I send to her my
kind commends."

90. Yet I have not. I have not yet. Yet — up to this time, is
now used only after a negative, but in the Elizabethan age it was
often used, as here, before a negative. Cf. T. of S. ind. I. 96: "For
yet his honour never heard a play ; " and this from Ascham's Schole-
master : " There be that kepe them out of fier and yet was never
burned " — which would be nonsense nowadays.

180 Notes [Act m

91. Likely. In the Yankee sense of promising. Cf. 2 Hen. IV.
iii. 2. 186: " a likely fellow ! " and Id. iii. 2. 273 : " your likeliest
men."

97. High-day wit. " Holiday terms," as Hotspur expresses it
(i Hen. IV. i. 3. 46). Cf. M. W. iii. 2. 60 : "he speaks holiday."

99. Cupid' 's post. So below (v. I. 46) we have " there 's a post
come from my master." For the adverbial mannerly, cf. Cymb.
iii. 6. 92, etc.

xoo. Bassanio, lord Love, etc* May it be Bassanio, O Cupid !

ACT III

SCENE I. — 2. // lives there unchecked. The report prevails there
uncontradicted.

3. Wracked. The only spelling of wrecked in the early eds.
The noun wrack (never wreck) rhymes with back in Macb. v. 5.
51 and four other instances in S.

4. The Goodwins. The Goodwin Sands, off the eastern coast of
Kent. According to tradition, they were once an island belonging
to Earl Godwin, which was swallowed up by the sea about A.D. 1 100.

9. Knapped, Nibbled ; originally, snapped, broke off. The
word occurs in Psalms, xlvi. 9 (Prayer-Book version) : " He knap-
peth the spear in sunder." Ginger was a favourite condiment with
old people.

27. The wings, etc. The boy's clothes she wore when she eloped.

37. Match. Bargain, compact. Cf. Cymb. iii. 6. 30 : " 't is our
match," etc.

39. Smug. Spruce, trim. Cf. Lear, iv. 6. 202 :" a smug bride-
groom."

48. Haifa million. That is, ducats.

62. Humility. The word is used in its ordinary sense, but is
spoken ironically : " What is his professed humility ? " — the
humility, or patience under injuries inculcated by his " prophet the

Scene I]

Notes

181

Nazarite " (in Matthew, v. 39, for instance). It has essentially the
same meaning as sufferance, which Shylock here opposes to it:
If the humility of the Christian is revenge, what should the
sufferance of the Jew be " by Christian example " ? Schmidt de-
fines it in this and a few other passages as " kindness, benevolence,
humanity," and some critics have been inclined to agree with him ;

THE GOODWIN SANDS, DURING A STORM

but in all these passages the ordinary sense of the word is equally or
more satisfactory. The New English Dictionary (Oxford) does not
recognize " humanity " among the meanings of humility, which it
illustrates by abundant examples from the fourteenth to the nine-
teenth century.

65. It shall go hard, etc. I will spare no effort to outdo you in
what you teach me.

71. Matched. That is, matched with them, found to match them.

85. Why, so. Well, well. Cf. Rich. II. ii. 2. 87, etc.

1 82 Notes [Act in

115. My turquoise. The folio reads, " my Turkies." Tennyson
spells it turkis, which is still an allowed pronunciation. Marvellous
properties were ascribed to this " Turkey-stone." Its colour was
said to change with the health of the wearer. Cf. Ben Jonson,
Sejanus : —

" And true as Turkise in the deare lord's ring,
Looke well or ill with him."

And Fenton {Secret Wonders of Nature, 1569) says: "The Tur-
keys doth move when there is any perill prepared to him that
weareth it."

SCENE II. — 6. Hate counsels not, etc. Hatred would prompt
no such feeling.

8. And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought. And yet a
maiden must not venture to speak all that she feels; or, if she
speak at all, she must speak what she feels. The line has been
much discussed. See more than a full page in fine print upon it in
Furness's " New Variorum " ed.

14. Beshreiv. See on ii. 6. 52 above.

15. CPerlooVd. Bewitched by the "evil eye." Cf. M. W. v. 5.
87 : " thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth."

1 8. Naughty. Evil. See on iii. 3. 9 below.

20. Though yours, not yours. One yours (preferably the sec-
ond) must be a dissyllable. See on ii. .9. 62 above.

Prove it so, etc. If it prove so (that is, that I am " not yours "),
let fortune, not me, bear the penalty. See on 314 below.

22. Peize. The French peser, to weigh. Here it means to
delay, as if weighing each moment deliberately, or (as some explain
the figure) as if the time were retarded by hanging weights to it.
S. uses the word in the sense of weigh in Rich. II. v. 3. 105, and in
that of poise in K.John, ii. I. 575.

26. Then confess, etc. Alluding to the use of the rack to extort
confession.

Scene II] Notes 1 83

29. Fear the enjoying. Fear for the enjoying. Cf. iii. 5. 3 and
29 below.

44. A swan-like end. Cf. Oth. v. 2. 247 : " I will play the swan,
And die in music"; and K.John, v. 7. 21 : "this pale, faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death."

54. Presence. Dignity of mien.

55. Alcides. Laomedon, king of Troy, had offended Neptune,
who threatened to inundate the country unless the monarch should
sacrifice his daughter Hesione. Accordingly, she was fastened to
a rock on the seashore to become the prey of a sea monster. Her-
cules rescued her, not for " love," but to get possession of a pair of
famous horses belonging to the king.

58. Dardanian wives. Trojan women. Cf. Hen. V. iii. 3. 40,
etc.

63. Fancy. Love; as often. Cf. M. N. D. \. I. 155: " sighs
and tears, poor fancy's followers." So also in compounds, as
"fancy-free" (M. N. D. ii. I. 164), "fancy-sick" (Id. iii. 2. 96),
etc. The Song describes in exquisite imagery the birth and the
death of a transient affection, " engendered in the eye," not in the
heart.

74. Still. Ever. See on i. I. 17 above.

76. Seasoned. This carries on the metaphor suggested by tainted.
It is a homely figure, taken from the use of salt to preserve meat,
but it is a favourite one with S.

79. Approve. Justify, prove.

8 1. No vice so simple. So unmixed.

82. His outivard parts. Its outward parts. Its was just coming
into use in the Elizabethan age. It does not occur in the present
play, or in any earlier one, except once in 2 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 393,
where the folio has ifs and the old play has his. In the folio the
form its is found only in M. for M. i. 2. 4, while ifs occurs nine
times. // as a genitive (or " possessive ") is found fourteen times,
in seven of which it precedes own. This it is an early provincial
form of the old genitive. In King James's version of the Bible

1 84 Notes [Act in

(1611) its does not occur at all, and the possessive it only in
Leviticus, xxv. 5 ("it own accord"), changed in modern editions
to " its own."

86. Livers white as milk. See on ii. 1.6 above.

87. Excrement. Used, as the related word excrescence still is,
for a superficial growth. It refers here to the beards; as in L. L. L.
v. I. 109: "dally with my excrement, with my mustachio." It is
also applied to the hair in C. of E. ii. 2. 79 and W. T. iv. 4. 734.

91. Lightest. That is, in a bad sense. Cf. below (v. I. 129),
" Let me give light, but let me not be light," etc.

92. Crisped. Curled. Milton (Comus, 984) speaks of "crisped
shades and bowers," referring to the leaves waved and curled by
the wind.

94. Upon supposed fairness. On the strength of their fictitious
beauty. The expression seems to be closely connected with the
preceding line, and not with the one before that, as some make it.

95. The dowry, etc. S. has several times expressed his antipathy
to false hair. In Sonn. 68 there is a passage very similar to the
one in the text. See also T. of A. iv. 3. 144: "Thatch your poor
thin roofs With burdens of the dead." In L. L. L. iv. 3. 258 Biron

savs : —

" O, if in black my lady's brows be deck'd, '

It mourns that painting and usurping hair
Should ravish doters with a false aspect.**

It was then comparatively a recent fashion. Stow says, " Women's
periwigs were first brought into England about the time of the
massacre of Paris" (1572). Barnaby Rich, in 1615, says of the
periwig sellers : " These attire-makers within these forty years were
not known by that name. . . . But now they are not ashamed to
set them forth upon their stalls — such monstrous mop-poles of
hair — so proportioned and deformed that but within these twenty
or thirty years would have drawn the passers-by to stand and gaze,
and to wonder at them."
97. GuileJ. Full of guile, treacherous. S. has many similar

Scene II] Notes 185

participial adjectives derived from nouns, and meaning " endowed
with (the noun)."

99. An Indian beauty. This has been a great stumbling-block
to the critics, who have proposed " dowdy," " gipsy," " favour "
(= face), "visage," "feature," "beldam," etc., in place of beauty.
Indian is used in a derogatory sense, and the occurrence of beau-
teous and beauty in the same sentence is not at all unlike S.'s
manner.

1 02. Hard food for Midas. An allusion to the story of Midas,
king of Phrygia, who gained from Bacchus the power to change
whatever he touched to gold, and found to his sorrow that even his
food was thus transmuted.

I will none ofthee. See on ii. 2. 207 above.

1 06. Thy plainness. The folio and both quartos have " pale-
nesse." Warburton suggested the emendation, which is adopted
by the majority of editors. The antithesis of plainness and elo-
quence is more natural and more forcible, especially after that of
threatenest and promise in the preceding line. It is an objection to
paleness that pale has just been applied to the silver casket.

no. Green-eyed jealousy. Cf. "green-eyed monster," in Oth. iii.
3. 166.

112. Rain thy joy. The later quartos have rein, which some
prefer; but in measure expresses the idea of restraint, so that In
measure rain thy ioy corresponds to both allay thy ecstasy and
scant this excess. The succession of antitheses emphasizes the
idea. In measure rein would introduce a weak tautology.

115. Counterfeit. Portrait. Cf. T. of A. v. I. 83: "Thou
draw'st a counterfeit Best in all Athens."

120. Hairs. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 142 : " her hairs were gold," etc.

126. Unfurnished. Unaccompanied by the other eye, or, per-
haps, by the other features.

130. Continent. In its original sense of that which contains.
Cf. Ham. iv. 4. 64 : " tomb enough and continent "; and v. 2. 115:
"you shall find in him* the continent of what part a gentleman

1 86 Notes [Act ill

would see " (that is, find him containing every quality which a gen-
tleman would desire to contemplate for imitation).

140. I come by note, etc. "I come according to written warrant
(the scroll just read) to give a kiss and receive the lady."

141. Prize. By metonymy, for the contest.

156. Livings. Possessions, fortune. Cf. v. I. 260: "you have
given me life and living." See also Mark, xii. 44, etc.

158. Sum of nothing. This is the reading of the folio, and is
more in keeping with the negative characteristics which follow than
" sum of something," the reading of the quartos, which some edi-
tors adopt. To term in gross = to state in full; to make the
most of it. Cf. gross in i. 3. 55 above.

174. Be my vantage, etc. Be a sufficient ground for my crying
out against you. " Exclaim on " occurs elsewhere, but S. also uses
" exclaim against."

1 78. Fairly spoke. S. uses both spoke and spoken as participles.
See on ii. 4. 7 above.

191. None from me. That is, none away from me, since you
have enough yourselves. This meaning of from is not uncommon,
and is played upon in Rich. III. iv. 4. 256-261.

195. So thou canst get. If thou canst; a common use of so.

19*. As swiff. The Elizabethan writers use adjectives freely as
adverbs.

199. Intermission. Delay ; that is, I can be as prompt in
making love as you are. , Some editors follow the 1st folio, which
joins intermission to lotfd. The meaning then is, I made love for
pastime, or to occupy myself while you were wooing Portia. Inter"
mission is metrically five syllables. See on i. 1.8 above.

208. Achieved her mistress. S. often uses achieve in this sense.
Cf. T. of S. i. 1. 161 : " If I achieve not this young modest girl," etc.

212. Our feast shall be. Shall ' = will, as often. See on i. I. 117
above.

214. Salerio. Some critics have doubted whether this is the
name of a new character, or one of the various forms of Salarino

Scene II] Notes 187

or Salanio found in the old editions ; but that it is the former is
probable from the fact that the name is spelt Salerio in every instance
in which it occurs (five times in the text and once in a stage direc-
tion) in both the quartos and the folios, while Salarino and Salanio
appear as Salarino, Salaryno, Salerino, Slarino, Solarino, Solanio,
Salino, Salinio, and Solania. Furness thinks that the limited num-
ber of actors in the old theatres would prevent the introduction of
a new character here ; but this play has fewer characters than the
average, even if we add Salerio.

216. If that. See on ii. 6. 54 above.

218. Very friends. True friends. Cf. R. and J. iii. I. 115:
" My very friend." See also John, vii. 26.

228. Doth. Dost and doth are the established forms for the
auxiliary; doest and doeth, in other cases. In old writers we find
the former used for the latter, as here. Cf. J. C.i.i.S: "What
dost thou with thy best apparel on ? "

231. Estate. State, condition ; as often. On the other hand,
state is sometimes found in the sense of estate. See 254 below.

235. Success. Elsewhere S. often uses this word in its old sense
of issue, result.

236. Won the fleece. Cf. i. I. 170 above.

238. Shrewd. Evil; the original sense of the word.

239. Steals. A relative in S. often takes a singular verb though
the antecedent be plural.

242. Constant. Steadfast, self-possessed. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 207 :
M Who was so firm, so constant," etc.

246. Unpleasant st. This harsh contraction of superlatives was
common. Cf. Macb. ij. i. 24: "At your kind'st leisure"; Id. ii. 2.
4: "stern'st good night," etc.

257. Mere. Absolute, thorough. Cf. Oth. ii. 2. 3 : "The mere
perdition of the Turkish fleet," etc.

261. Issuing. Pouring forth. Intransitive verbs are not un-
frequently used transitively by S.

262. Hit. Hit the mark, succeeded.

1 88 Notes [Act m

265. Scape. Not to be printed " 'scape." It is found often in
prose.

267. Should appear. Would appear. See on i. 2. 92.

268. Discharge. Pay. Cf. C. of E. iv. 4. 122: "I will dis
charge thee."

271. Confound. Destroy, ruin ; as often.

273. Impeach the freedom of the state. Denies that strangers
have equal rights in Venice. Cf., however, iv. 1 . 38, where Shylock

Bays : —

" If you deny me, let the danger light

Upon your charter and your city's freedom ; **

as if the freedom depended upon a charter which might be revoked
by the power that had granted it. The thought here may be the
same.

275. Magnificoes of greatest port. Grandees of highest .rank.

276. Persuaded with. Used persuasion with. It is the only
instance in which S. joins with to this verb.

277. Envious. Malicious. So envy = malice, in iv. I. 10, 121
below ; as often.

280. To Tubal and to Chus. Karl Elze says that the names are
" taken from Genesis, x. 2, 6, without change "; but there the latter
name is Cush. Perhaps Chus in the old eds. was a misprint for
Cush. According to the dictionaries, ch is pronounced like k in all
Hebrew proper names, with the single exception of Rachel ; but
Chus, if it be a true Hebrew name, should probably be regarded as
another exception.

284. Deny. Forbid. Elsewhere it means refuse; as in ii. 2.
1 80, etc.

288. Best-conditioned and unwearied. That is, most unwearied.
See on ii. I. 46 above. For conditioned, see on i. 2. 129 above.

296. Description. A quadrisyllable. See on 199 above.

297. Hair. A dissyllable. See on ii. 9. 62 above.

307. Cheer. In its original meaning of countenance. Ct.M.N.D.
ii. 2. 96 : " pale of cheer," etc. It is the French chere, which even

Scene III] Notes 189

up to the sixteenth century was used in the sense of head, face. In
some of the provincial dialects of France the word still retains its old
meaning.

308. Dear bought. "Dearly bought" (iv. 1.95); the adjective
used adverbially, as often.

One would suppose that the playfulness of this line, with its
pretty pun on dear, was self-evident, but some critics take it in all
seriousness. One, for instance, says : " Portia could not possibly
intend by these words ungenerously to remind Bassanio of the
benefits she had conferred upon him. They must, I think, relate
to that anxiety and distress of mind which she had undergone
during the time that his fate was in suspense ; possibly, too, to the
grief she was now about to suffer in his absence." In other words,
Portia does not refer to her marriage with Bassanio as a mercantile
transaction, but she does remind him that she has had to pay a
rather heavy price for him in mental anxiety on his behalf.

312. Is forfeit. Is forfeited. So below, iv. I. 358: "thy wealth
being forfeit." This contraction is not uncommon in the past par-
ticiple of verbs ending in -#/or -/. See on v. I. 1 1 below.

314. Yoit and /. Cf. " who you shall rightly love," i. 2. 32, and
" not I " for " not me," in 21 above. See also Oth. iv. 2. 3 : "you
have seen Cassio and she together." This disregard of the inflec-
tions of pronouns was common in writers of the time.

SCENE III. — 9. Naughty. This word was formerly used in a
much stronger sense than at present. In Much Ado, v. i. 306 the
villain Borachio is called a " naughty man"; and Gloster, in Lear,
iii. 7. 37, when the cruel Regan plucks his beard, addresses her as
" Naughty lady ! " Cf. Proverbs, vi. 12, etc. See also v. i. 91 below.

Fond. Foolish; as in ii. 9. 26 above. This was the original
sense of the word, and is often found in S.

10. To come. That is, as to come. Cf. Rich. III. iii. 2. 26: —

" I wonder he is so fond
To trust the mockery of unquiet slumbers."

190 Notes [Act m

14. Dull-eyed. Wanting in perception, stupid; not with eyes
dimmed with tears, as some make it.

19. Kept. Kept company, dwelt. Cf. L. L. L. iv. I. 100, etc.
23. Made moan. See on i. I. 126 above.

25. Grant this forfeiture to hold. Allow it to hold good.

26. Deny the course of law. Interfere with it, refuse to let it
take its course. See on iii. 2. 284 above.

27. For the commodity, etc. For if the advantages heretofore
enjoyed by strangers in Venice be refused them, it will seriously
impeach the justice of the state. See on i. I. 178 above.

32. Bated. Reduced, lowered. Cf. "bated breath," i. 3. 120
above. It should not be printed ''bated, since it is not a mere
metrical contraction of abated, but a distinct word (cf. wake and
awake, etc.) often found in prose writers.

35. Pray God. The subject is omitted, as even now in "Would
to God," etc,

SCENE IV. — 2. Conceit. Conception, notion.

6. Send relief. For the omission of the preposition, see on i. I.
125 above.

7. Lover. Friend. So just below, "bosom lover." Cf. J. C. iii.
2. 13: "Romans, countrymen, and lovers." See also Psabns,
xxxviii. II. The word, moreover, was formerly applied to both
sexes, as paramour and villain were. Even now we say of a man
and woman that they are lovers, or a pair of lovers.

9. J^han customary bounty, etc. Than ordinary benevolence
can constrain you to be.

11. Nor shall not. See on i. 2. 26 above. Companion was some-
times used contemptuously, as fellow still is. See /. C. iv. 3. 138:
"Companion, hence ! " etc.

12. Waste. Spend. Cf. Milton {Sonnet to Mr. Lawrence) :
"Help waste a sullen day"; where, however, the idea of "killing
time " is more evident than here.

14. Be needs. Just below we have the more familiar needs be*
For needs, see on ii. 4. 29 above.

Scene IV] Notes 191

25. Husbandry. Stewardship. Cf. T. of A. ii. 2. 164: "If you
suspect my husbandry," etc.

Manage. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 70 : " The manage of my state." The
word is especially used of horses; as in I Hen. IV. ii. 3. 52:
"Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed," etc.

28. Contemplation. Metrically five syllables.

30. Her husband, etc. An ellipsis like those in ii. i. 46 and iii.
2. 288 above. Cf. Hen. VIII. ii. 3. 16 : "As soul and body's sever-
ing," etc.

33. Deny this imposition. Refuse this charge laid upon you.
See on i. 2. 105 above. -

45. Balthasar. This name (sometimes Balthazar} is found also
in C. of £., R. and f., and Much Ado, and is always accented on
the first syllable.

46. As I have ever found the e, etc. Thou and thee are generally
used in addressing servants, and in affectionate familiarity with
relatives and friends. Portia generally addresses Nerissa, who is a
waiting-gentlewoman, not an ordinary servant, with you, but some-
times, as in i. 2 and here (62, 79), with thou. When you is used
with a servant it generally implies anger or reproof.

50. Cousin's hand. The word cousin in that day was often used
instead of our kinsman and kinswoman.

52. With imagined speed. With the speed of thought. Cf.
Hen, V. iii. chor. I : " Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene
flies."

53. Tranect. The word occurs nowhere else. It may be a mis-
print for "traject," the English equivalent of the French trajet,
Italian traghetto. Coryat {Crudities, 1611) says: "There are in
Venice thirteen ferries or passages, which they commonly call
Traghetti, where passengers may be transported in a gondola to
what place of the city they will."

56. Convenient. Proper, suitable. See on ii. 8. 45 above.

59. Of us. That is, of our seeing them.

61. Accomplished. Furnished. Cf. Rich. //. ii. I. 177: "Ac-

192 Notes [Act in

complish'd with the number of thy hours"; that is, when he was
of thy age. See also Hen. V. iv. chor. 12: "The armourers
accomplishing (that is, equipping) the knights."

65. Braver. Finer, more showy. Both brave and bravery are
often used in this sense with reference to dress, personal appear-
ance, etc. See Temp. i. 2. 6, 411, ii. 2. 122, iii. 2. 12, etc. Cf.
Isaiah, iii. 1 8. The Scottish braw is the same word.

67. Mincing. This word was not always contemptuous. In
the one instance in which Milton uses it (Comus, 964: "the minc-
ing Dryades") it appears to mean tripping lightly or gracefully.
Cf. also Drayton, Polyolb. Song 27 : " Ye maids, the hornpipe then
so mincingly that tread."

69. Quaint. Ingenious, elaborate. See on ii. 4. 6 above.

72. / could not do withal. I could not help it. In Palgrave's
Lesclaircissement de la Lang. Fr.t 1530, we find it thus explained:
" / can nat do withall, a thyng lyeth nat in me, or I am nat in
faulte that a thyng is done."

75. That men. This omission of so before that is very common.
See /. C. i. I. 50: "That Tiber trembled "; Macb. ii. 2. 7: "That
death and nature do contend," etc.

77. Raw. Crude, or, in Yankee parlance, "green." Cf. A. Y.L.
iii. 2. 76: "Thou art raw," etc.

Jacks. A common term of contempt. See Much Ado, v I. 91,
Rich. Iff. i. 3. 72, etc.

79. All my 'whole. Cf. I Hen. VI.\. I. 126: "All the whole
army"; Hen. VIII. i. I. 12: "All the whole time," etc.

SCENE V. — 3. I fear you. That is, fear^br you; as in iii. 2. 29
above and in 29 below. Cf. Rich. III. i. i. 137: " his physicians
fear him mightily."

4. Agitation. The clown's blunder for cogitation.

14. When I shun Scylla, etc. In the Alexandreis of Philip
Gaultier, written in the early part of the thirteenth century, we find
the line," Incidis in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim," which had

Scene V] Notes 193

been often quoted and translated by English writers before the
time of S.

• 20. Enow. A form of enough, generally plural. Cf. 'iv. I. 29
below.

43. Cover. Launcelot quibbles on the two meanings of the
word, to lay the table and to wear one's hat (see above, ii. 9. 43 :
"How many then should cover," etc.).

47. Quarrelling with occasion. Quibbling on every oppor-
tunity.

57. Discretion. Discrimination. Suited = suited to each other,
arranged.

60. A many. This expression is obsolete, though we still say a
few, and many a in a distributive sense. It is occasionally used in
poetry, as by Gerald Massey {Lovers Fairy Ring} : —

" We've known a many sorrows, Sweet :
We've wept a many tears."

See also Tennyson {Miller's Daughter) : " They have not shed a
many tears."

61. Garnished. Furnished, equipped.

For a tricksy word, etc. For a quibbling word (or a play upon
words), set the meaning at defiance.

62. How cheer' st thou ? Equivalent to " What cheer ? How is 't
with you?" in W. T. i. 2. 148.

63. Good sweet. No term of compliment or endearment did
more service in that day than sweet. This combination of good
sweet occurs in Cor. i. 3. 119, M. W. iv. 2. 189, etc. Opinion is
here a quadrisyllable, as in i. I. 102.

69. Mean it. That is, intend to live an upright life.

74. Pawrtd. Staked, wagered. Cf. Cor. ii:. 1.15, Cymb. i. 4.
1 1 8, etc.

81. Howsoever. The folio has "how som ere" — a common
vulgarism in that day.

MER. OF VEN. — 13

194 Notes [Act iv

ACT IV

SCENE I. — 5. Uncapable. S. uses both in^^pable (six times)
and uncapable (twice). So we find uncertain and incertain, un-
constant and inconstant, unfortunate and infortunate, ungrateful
and ingrateful, etc.

6. From. S. generally has empty of. This is the only instance
of empty from.

7. Qualify. Moderate, temper; as often.

8. Obdurate. The accent is on the penult, as always in S.

9. And that. Here that is omitted after since, and is then in-
serted in the second clause without since. This is a common con-
struction in the Elizabethan writers. In most cases the subjects of
the clauses are different. Cf. T. and C. ii. 2. 177 : —

" //"this law

Of nature be corrupted through affection,
And that great minds," etc.

On the use of that with if, since, when, etc., see on ii. 6. 54 above.

10. Envy's. See on iii. 2. 277 above. Cf. Mark, xv. 10.

18. Lead' }st this fashion, etc. You keep up this show of malice
only until the final hour of execution.

20. Remorse. Relenting, pity. This is its usual meaning in S.
Cf. K. John, ii. I. 478: "Soft petitions, pity, and remorse," etc.
So remorseful = compassionate, and remorseless = pitiless (as at
present).

22. Where. Whereas. Cf. T. G. of V. iii. i. 74: "Where I
thought the remnant of mine age," etc.; L. L. L. ii. I. 103:
"Where now his knowledge must prove ignorance"; Cor.\. 10. 13:
" Where I thought to crush him," etc. On the other hand, whereas
sometimes = where, as in 2 Hen. VI. i. 2. 58 : " Whereas the king
and queen do mean to hawk."

24. Loose. Release, reftti*

Scene I] Notes 195

26. Moiety. Portion, share (not an exact half) ; as often in S.
Cf. Ham. i. I. 90: "a moiety competent" (a proper share), etc.

29. Royal merchant. This epithet was striking and well under-
stood in S.'s time, when Sir Thomas Gresham was honoured with
the title of the royal merchant, both from his wealth, and because
he transacted the mercantile business of Queen Elizabeth; and at
Venice the Giustiniani, the Grimaldi, and others were literally
" merchant princes," and known as such throughout Europe. For
enow, see on iii. 5. 20 above.

34. Gentle. No pun on Gentile is intended, as some have sup-
posed. It could only have angered the Jew.

35. Possessed. See on i. 3. 64 above.

36. Sabbath. One early ed. has " Sabaoth." Bacon and Spenser
confound the signification of the two words, and Dr. Johnson, ii>
the first edition of his Dictionary, treated them as identical.

39. Your charter. See on iii. 2. 273 above.

41. Carrion. A favourite term of contempt with S.

43. But, say, it is. But suppose it is. The commas are required
to make the sense clear.

47. Some men there are love not. The relative is omitted, as
often. A gaping pig is either a pig brought to table with a lemon
or apple in its mouth, or the living, squealing animal.

49. Masters of passion. Agencies (such as he has been speak-
ing of) that move either the sympathy or antipathy of any man.
Passion is used in the original sense of feeling or emotion. Cf.
/. C. i. 2. 48 : "I have much mistook your passion," etc.

52. Abide. Bear, endure. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 360: "which good
natures Could not abide to be with," etc.

55. Lodg'd. Settled, abiding.

59. Current. Persistent course.

65. Think you question. Consider that you are arguing with.

67. Main flood. The " ocean tide." Cf. "the flood,"!. I. 10.
*The main" generally means the sea (as in Rich. III. i. 4. 20:
"tumbling billows of the main"), but sometimes the main land.

196

Notes [Act iv

£L Ham. iv. 4. 15: "the main of Poland," and Lear, iii. I. 6:
" swell the curled waters 'bove the main."

77. With all brief and plain conveniency. With all proper
brevity and directness.

78. Have judgment. Receive sentence. Cf. Luke, xix. 22.
87. Parts. Capacities, employments.

99. Upon my power. By virtue of my prerogative.

101. Determine. Decide. The word sometimes means to put
an end to, as in 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 82 : " Till his friend sickness hath
determin'd me "; sometimes, to come to an end, as in Cor. v. 3. 1201
" till these wars determine."

1 1 8. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul. Cf. the quibble in J. €. i.
I. 15: "a mender of bad soles." For the sentiment, cf. 2. Hen.
IV. iv. 5. 107 : —

" Thou hid'st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart."

1 20. The hangman1 s axe. So in Fletcher's Prophetess, iii. 2,
Dioclesian, who had stabbed Aper, is called "the hangman of Volu-
sius Aper"; and in Jacke Drums Entertainment (1616), when
Brabant Junior says, "let mine owne hand Be mine owne hang-
man," he refers to stabbing himself. In the Duke of Buckingham's
Rehearsal, Bayes speaks of " a great huge hangman, . . . with his
sword drawn." In Much Ado (iii. 2. n) Cupid is called "the
little hangman."

121. Envy. Malice. See on iii. 2. 277 above.
124. For thy life. For allowing thee to live.

126. Pythagoras. The philosopher of Samos, to whom was
attributed the doctrine of the transmigration of souls. Cf. T. N.
iv. 2. 54 : " Clown. What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning
wild-fowl? Malvolio. That the soul of our grandam might haply
inhabit a bird."

129. Hanged for human slaughter. According to Jewish law
(Exodus, xxi. 28), ar. ox that gored a man to death was stoned.

Scene I] Notes 197

In the Middle Ages animals that had injured or killed human beings
were often tried and executed. Many instances of such judicial pro-
ceedings in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries are mentioned by
Baring-Gould in his Curiosities of Olden Times (1896). In 1386 a
judge at Falaise condemned a sow to be hanged for having lacerated
and killed a child. In 1389 a horse was tried and condemned to die
for killing a man. In 1499 a bull was similarly sentenced at Cou-
roy, near Beauvais, for causing the death of a boy. The trials,
which were conducted with all the formalities, were sometimes
before the ordinary courts, sometimes before th^ ecclesiastical ones.
In some cases, appeals to a higher court were made, and decided
in due form. During the witch persecutions in Salem, Mass., dogs
were hanged for supposed complicity with persons accused.

133. Starved. The word originally meant to die, but in the latter
part of the sixteenth century came to be used in the narrower sense
of perishing with cold — a meaning which it still has in the North
of England (see 2 Hen. VI. iii. I. 343, etc.) — or with hunger.

143. Go give. Cf. "come view," ii. 7. 43; "go sleep," Rick. II.
iv. I. 139; "go seek the king," Ham. ii. I. 101, etc.

154. To fill up. To fulfil.

156. No impediment to let him lack. No hindrance to his
receiving. Of this peculiar form of " double negative " (which it
virtually is) there are several instances in S.

164. The difference^ etc. The dispute which is the subject of
the present trial.

1 66. Throughly. See on ii. 7. 42 above.

171. Such rule. Such due form.

173. Within his danger. Cf. V. and A. 639 : " Come not within
his danger," etc.

177. The quality of mercy, etc. The very nature of mercy
excludes the idea of compulsion.

1 78. It droppeth, etc. Cf. Ecclesiasticus, xxxv. 20 : " Mercy is
seasonable in the time of affliction, as clouds of rain in the time of
drought."

198 Notes [Act iv

183. Shows. Represents. Cf. Rick. II. iii. 4. 42: " Showing, as
in a model, our firm estate."

189. Show. Show itself, appear. Cf. ii. 2. 186 above.

190. Seasons. Tempers. Cf. Edward III. (1596):

" And kings approach the nearest unto God
By giving life and safety unto men."

193. We do pray for mercy, etc. S. probably had the Lord's
Prayer immediately in his mind, but the sentiment is also found in
Ecclesiasticus, xxviii.

197. Follow. Insist upon.

20 1. Discharge. Pay. See on iii. 2. 268 above.

203. Twice. Some critics would change this to thrice, because
we have " thrice the sum " just below, but there is no necessity for
bringing the two passages into mathematical agreement. S. is often
careless in these little arithmetical matters.

207. Truth. Honesty. So " a true man " was an honest man,
as opposed to a thief. See M. for M. iv. 2. 46 : " Every true man's
apparel fits your thief"; I Hen. IV. ii. 2. 98: "the thieves have
bound the true men," etc.

216. A Daniel come to judgment. The allusion is to the History
of Susanna, 45 : " The Lord raised up the holy spirit of a young
youth, whose name was Daniel," etc. See also Ezekiel, xxviii. 3,
and Daniel, vi. 3.

241. Hath full relation, etc. Clearly recognizes that this pen-
alty (like any other) should be paid.

244. More *elder. Double comparatives and superlatives are
common in the Elizabethan writers. In S. we find " more larger "
(A. and C. iii. 6. 76), "more better" (Temp. i. 2. 19), "most
boldest" (/. C. iii. I. 121), " most unkindest " (Id. iii. 2. 187), etc.
In Rick. II. ii. I. 49 we find "less happier," the only instance with
less found in S.

248. Balance. A contracted plural, as the verb and them in
Shylock's answer prove. Such plurals often occur (as also do pos-

Scene I] Notes 199

sessive cases) with nouns ending in a sibilant sound; as horse, sense,
place, service, etc.

250. On your charge. At your expense.

261. Still her use. Ever her custom. See on i. I. 17 above.
On use, cf. J. C. ii. 2. 25 : " these things are beyond all use."

265. Such misery. Misery may have the accent on the penult
both here and in 1C. John, iii. 4 : " And buss thee as thy wife.
Misery's love," etc.

268. Speak me fair in death. Speak well of me when I am
dead. "Romeo that spoke him fair" (R. and J. iii. I. 158)
means " Romeo that spoke to him in conciliatory terms; " and this
is the usual meaning of the phrase.

270. A love. Cf. lover in iii. 4. 17 above.

274. With all my heart. Cf. Rich. II. ii. I. 74 fol., where the
dying Gaunt jests on his name; and where, in reply to Richard's
question, " Can sick men play so nicely with their names? " he says :
" No, misery makes sport to mock itself. " The pun is the only one
that Antonio utters. He treats the matter lightly in the hope of
making his friend feel it less.

276. Which is as dear. See on ii. 7. 4 above.

288. These be. See on i. 3. 22 above.

289. Barrabas. So spelled and accented (on first syllable) in
the time of S. In Marlowe's Jew of Malta the name is Barabas,
not Barabbas.

291. Pursue. Accented on the first syllable. Cf. pursuit in
Sonn. 143. 4.

304. Confiscate. Confiscated. This Latinism is most frequent
in verbs derived from the first conjugation (as dedicate, consecrate,
degenerate, suffocate, etc.), but it is found in other Latin derivatives.

321. The substance. The amount.

327. I have thee on the hip. See on i. 3. 46 above.

340. The law hath yet another hold on you. S. is not willing to
let the case depend on the legal quibbles which he takes from the
old stories (their omission would have been resented by the theatre-

200 Notes [Act iv

goers of that day), but adds the sound law of this speech, which is
entirely his own.

342. Alien. A trisyllable. See on i. I. 8 above.

345. Contrive. Plot. Cf./. C. ii. 3. 16 : " the fates with traitors
do contrive," etc.

365. Which humbleness, etc. Which humble entreaty on thy
part may induce me to commute for a fine.

366. Ay, for the state, etc. That is, the half which goes to the
state may be thus commuted, but not Antonio's.

376. In use. In trust for Shylock, for the purpose of securing it
at his death to Lorenzo. Use does not mean interest, which Anto-
nio has said (i. 3. 61 above) that he neither gives nor takes.

382. Of all he dies possessed. See on i. I. 125 above.

392. Ten more. To make up a jury of twelve. This appears to
have been an old joke. Of course it is out of place here, as trial by
jury was unknown in Venice.

395. Desire your grace of pardon. Cf. M. N. D. iii. I. 185:
" desire you of more acquaintance; " and Oth. iii. 3. 212 : " beseech
you of your pardon."

399. Gratify. Recompense. Cf. Cor. ii. 2. 44: "To gratify
his noble service," etc.

405. Cope. Reward, requite.

414. Offeree. Of necessity. Perforce is still used in this sense.

Attempt. Tempt. Cf. M. for M. iv. 2. 205 : " neither my coat,
integrity, nor persuasion can with ease attempt you."

444. Commandement. The spelling in all the early eds. The
word is also a quadrisyllable in i Hen. VI. i. 3. 20 : " From him I
have express commandement."

SCENE II. — 6. Upon more advice. Upon further consideration.
Cf. M. for M. v. I. 469: "after more advice"; and Rich. If. i. 3.
233: "upon good advice" (after due deliberation), etc.

15. Old swearing. Old in this intensive or augmentative sense
is common in writers of the time. For other examples in S.; see

Scene II] Notes 2OI

Macb. ii. 3. 2, M. W. i. 4. 5, Much Ado, v. 2. 98, and 2 Hen. IV. ii.
4. 21. Cf. the slang phrase of our day, " a high old time," and other
familiar uses of old (" old fellow," "old boy," etc.).

ACT V

SCENE I. — 4. Troilus. S. in the play of Troilus and Cressida
makes " Cressid " the daughter of the soothsayer Calchas, but her
name is not found in classic fable. The allusion here is borrowed
from Chaucer's Troilus and Cresseide, in which the prince is
described as watching " upon the walles " for Cressida's coming.

7. Thisbe. The story of the Babylonian lovers, Pyramus and
Thisbe, is told by Ovid. Golding's translation was published in
1564, but S. may have read the original. He probably drew more
directly from Chaucer's Legende of Goode Women, in which Thisbe,
Dido, and Medea are introduced one after another. He had already
used the story in the M. N. D.

10. Dido. The picture of Dido is not in accordance with Virgil's
narrative. It may have been suggested by that of Ariadne in the
Legende of Goode Women (2187 fol.) : —

41 to the stronde barefote fast she went. —

******
Hire kerchefe on a pole styked shee,
Ascaunce that he shulde hyt wel ysee,
And hym remembre that she was behynde,
And turn agayne, and on the stronde hire fynde."

The earliest reference to the willow as a symbol of forsaken love
is found in a manuscript collection of poems by John Heywood,
about 1530. Cf. Much Ado, ii. I. 194, 225, Oth. iv. 3. 28 fol.,
3 Hen. VI. iii. 3. 228, etc.

I':. Waft. For wafted, as in K. John, ii. I. 73 : "Than now the
English bottoms have waft o'er." Cf. lift for lifted in I Hen. VI.
\. i. 1 6, Genesis, vii. 17, Psalms, xciii. 3, etc*

2O2 Notes [Act v

13. Medea. The allusion is to the fable of her restoring ALson,
the father of Jason, to youthful vigour by her enchantments. Ovid
tells us that she drew blood from his veins, and supplied its place
with the juice of certain herbs.

16. Unthrift. We have the adjective again in T. of A. iv. 3. 311,
and the noun in Rich. II. ii. 3. 122, Sonn. 9. 9 and 13. 13.

28. Stephano. In the Temp, (written ten or more years later)
this name has the accent on the first syllable, where it belongs.

31. Holy crosses. These are very common in Italy. There is a
shrine of the Madonna del Mare in the midst of the sea between
Mestre and Venice, and another between Venice and Palestrina,
where the gondolier and mariner cross themselves in passing.

36. Go we in. See on ii. 8. 53 above. In "let us prepare," in
the next line, we have the ordinary form of the 1st pers. imperative.

39. Sola, etc. An imitation of the post-horn.

41. Master Lorenzo, etc. The early eds. have " M. Lorenzo,
M. Lorenzo," " M. Lorenzo & M. Lorenzo," and " M. Lorenzo and
Mrs. Lorenza."

53. Music. This word sometimes meant musical instruments, or
a band of music. See Hen. VIII. iv. 2. 94 : " Bid the music leave ;
They are harsh," etc. Cf. 98 below : " It is your music, madam, of
the house."

56. Creep in. In was often used for into.

59. Patines. The patine was the plate used for. the sacramental
bread, and was sometimes made of goldo Some editors prefer
" patterns," Lhe reading of the 2d folio.

61. His mrtion* His for its, as in 82 below. See on iii. 2. 82
above. For ether allusions to the " music of the spheres " in S.,
see A. and C. v. 2. 84, T. N. iii. I. 121, A. Y. L. ii. 7. 6, etc.

62. Cherubins. The singular cherubin is found in Temp. i. 2.
152, Macb. i. 7. 22, Oth. iv. 2. 62, and L. C. 319; cherub only in
Ham. iv. 3. 50. Cherubin occurs m Spenser and other poets of the
time, and is used even by Dryden.

63. Such harmony, etc. Besides the music of the spheres, which

Scene I] Notes 203

no mortal ear ever caught a note of, there was by some philosophers
supposed to be a harmony in the human soul. " Touching musical
harmony," says Hooker, " whether by instrument or by voice, it
being but of high and low sounds in a due proportionable disposition,
such, notwithstanding, is the force thereof, and so pleasing effects
it hath in that very part of man which is most divine, that some
have been thereby induced to think that the soul itself, by nature
is, or hath in it, harmony." But, though this harmony is within us,
" this muddy vesture of decay," as the poet tells us, " doth grossly
close it in " so that we cannot hear it.

72. Unhandled colts. Cf. Ariel's simile of the " unback'd colts,"
Temp. iv. I. 176.

77. Mutual. Common. Cf. M. N. D. iv. I. 122 : " mutual cry,"
etc. The confounding of imitual and common (as in "mutual
friend," etc.) is a familiar blunder nowadays.

79. The poet. Probably Ovid, who tells the story in his
Metamorphoses.

80. Orpheus. Cf. T. G. of V. iii. 2. 78 : —

" For Orpheus' lute was strung with poet's sinews,
Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones," etc. ;

and^». VIII. iii. 1.3: —

" Orpheus with his lute made trees,
And the mountain tops that freeze,
Bow themselves when he did sing."

87. Erebus. Cf. /. C. ii. I. 84: "Not Erebus itself were dim
enough," etc. The word, though sometimes used figuratively for
the lower world in general, denotes strictly " a place of nether dark-
ness between the Earth and Hades."

99. Without respect. Absolutely, without regard to circum-
stances.

103. Attended. Attended to, listened to attentively. Cf. Sonn.
102. 7 : —

204 Notes [Act v

" As Philomel in summer's front doth sing,
And stops her pipe in growth of riper days;
Not that the summer is less pleasant now
Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night,
But that wild music burthens every bough,
And sweets grown common lose their dear delight."

All the birds mentioned here — the crow, lark, cuckoo, etc. — are
found in Italy.

107. By season^ etc. " By fitness of occasion are adapted or
qualified to obtain their just appreciation, and to show their true
excellence."

109. Peace, ho ! In J. C. i. 2. I we find " Peace, ho ! " used, as
here, to silence the music.

Endymion. A beautiful shepherd beloved by Diana. Fletcher,
in the Faithful Shepherdess, tells

" How the pale Phoebe, hunting in a grove,
First saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes
She took eternal fire that never dies ;
How she convey 'd him softly in a sleep,
His temples bound with poppy, to the steep
Head of old Latmos, where she stoops each night,
Gilding the mountain with her brother's light,
To kiss her sweetest."

The fable appears in many forms in the classic writers, and has
been a favourite one with poets ever since.

115. Which speed. See on ii. 7. 4 above.

121. A tucket sounds. This stage direction is found in the 1st
folio. A tucket (probably from the Italian toccata) is a flourish on
a trumpet. Cf. Hen. V. iv. 2. 35 : " Then let the trumpet sound
The tucket-sonance."

127. We should hold day, etc. We should have day when the
Antipodes do, if you, Portia, would walk abroad at night.

Scene I] Notes 205

129. Let me give light, etc. See on iii. 2. 91 above. Puns on
\ight and dark and light and heavy are frequent in S.

132. God sort all! God dispose all things! Cf. Rich. III. ii.

t. ?6 : —

41 All may be well ; but if God sort it so,

'T is more than we deserve or I expect."

136. In all sense. In all reason.

141. Breathing courtesy. Cf. Macb.v. 3. 27: "Mouth-honour,
breath."

146. Poesy. The poesy or posy (for the two words are the same)
of a ring was a motto or rhyme inscribed upon its inner side.
The fashion of putting such " posies " on rings prevailed from the
middle of the sixteenth to the close of the seventeenth centuries.
In 1624 a little book was published with the quaint title, Love's
Garland, or Posies for Rings, Handkerchiefs, and Gloves ; and such
pretty tokens, that lovers send their loves. Cf. Ham. iii. 2. 1 62 :
" Is this a prologue, or the poesy of a ring?" These are the only
instances in which S. uses the word in this sense.

148. Leave me not. Do not part with me. Leave is used in the
same sense by Portia in 1 70 below.

154. Respective. Considerate, regardful. Cf. R. and J. iii. 1. 1282
"respective lenity." See also K.John, \. I. 188.

156. On 's. See on ii. 6. 67 above.

1 60. Scrubbed. Stunted, dwarfish; generally used contempt-
uously.

175. I were best. See on ii. 8. 33 above.

191. The ring. For the repetition in this and the following
speech, Herford compares K. John, iii. I. 12-15 anc^ Rich. III. i. 3.
292-294. See also Edward III. ii. I. 155-163, where nine lines
end with " the sun."

197. The virtue of the ring. The power it has; the right to me
and mine of which it is the pledge. See iii. 2. 171, where Portia
gives the ring.

199. Contain. Retain; as in Sonn. 77.9: "what thy memory

206 Notes [Act v

cannot contain," etc. Your honour refers to his pledge in iii. 2.

IBS-

202. Had pleased to have defended. For " had pleased to de-
fend." The inaccuracy is sometimes found in good writers of our
day, and has sometimes been defended by grammarians.

203. Wanted. As to have wanted.

204. Urge. Urge you to give it to him; insist upon it. Cere*
mony — a sacred thing.

208. Civil doctor. Doctor of civil law.

218. For, by these, etc. Cf. R. and J. iii. 5. 9: "Night's candles
are burnt out"; Macb. ii. I. 5: "There's husbandry in heaven;
Their candles are all out," etc.

237. Wealth. Weal, prosperity; as in Ham. iv. 4. 27: "much
wealth and peace."

238. Which. That is, which loan.

239. Miscarried. Perished; as in ii. 8. 29 and iii. 2. 311
above.

241. Advisedly. Deliberately. Cf. advised m \. I. 142 and ii. I.
42 above.

257. Richly. Richly laden. Cf. "richly left," i. I. 161 above.

260. Living. See on livings, iii. 2. 156 above.

262. To road. To harbour. Cf. " ports, and piers, and roads,*'
i. I. 19 above.

270. Satisfied of. Satisfied concerning ; that is, you wish to
know more about them. At full — in full, fully.

272. And charge us, etc. " In the Court of Queen's Bench,
when a complaint is made against a person for 'contempt,' the
practice is that before sentence is finally pronounced he is sent
into the Crown Office, and being there 'charged upon interroga-
tories ' he is made to swear that he will « answer all things faith-
fully' " (Lord Campbell's Shakespeare's Legal Acquirements).

Inter' gator ies. This contracted form was common in S.'s time.
We find it even in prose in A. W. iv. 3. 207, as printed in the
early eds. The full form occurs in K.John, iii. I. 147.

APPENDIX

COMMENTS ON SOME OF THE CHARACTERS

ANTONIO AND His FRIENDS. — Antonio gives the name to the
play, though not in a sense its hero, because, through his relations
with Bassanio and with Shylock, he is the mainspring of the action.
He is one of Shakespeare's most beautiful characters. Professor
Moulton {Shakespeare as a Dramatic Artist} calls him " a perfect
character," his intolerance, interpreted in the light of his time,
being a virtue rather than a fault. But it1 seems to me that the
critic misapprehends the type of Antonio's perfection. He says
that " Roman honour " is the idea which the Merchant's friends
are accustomed to associate with him; and he adds: "Of all the
national types of character the Roman is the most self-sufficient,
alike incorruptible by temptation and independent of the softer
influences of life." Antonio is incorruptible, the very soul of
honour, and it is to this that Bassanio refers in ascribing to him the
" ancient Roman honour." He would not have added the Roman
sternness and impassivity, the lack of sensibility to the softer in-
fluences of life.

Mistaking Antonio in this way, Professor Moulton naturally does
injustice to the group of friends with whom we find him associated
in the opening scene. Here, he says, " we see the dignified mer-
chant-prince suffering under the infliction of frivolous visitors, to
which his friendship with the young nobleman exposes him." The
German Gervinus in like manner regards these friends, Bassanio
included, as mere parasites; and Heine terms them "only so-
called friends, 'or, if you please, only half or three-quarters friends,"
having " due regard to their own ease," in their apparent devotion
to " the excellent merchant who gave them such fine dinners."

207

208 Appendix

There may be nothing in the first scene which makes it abso.
lately certain that Antonio's friends are not selfish "summer
friends " (such as the dramatist introduces in Timon of Athens} ;
but elsewhere in the play the question is settled past a doubt. Their
love for him endures the crucial test of adversity. When news of the
loss of his ships begins to come (ii. 8) Salanio says to Salarino : —

" You were best to tell Antonio what you hear ;
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him ; "

and his friend replies : " A kinder gentleman treads not the earth.'*
Then follows that exquisite passage in which the parting of Antonio
and Bassanio is described; and Salanio adds: —

" I think he only loves the world for him.
I pray thee, let us go and find him out,
And quicken his embraced heaviness
With some delight or other."

Later on (Hi. i), when more bad news comes and Antonio is
threatened with bankruptcy, the devotion of these friends is none
the less to be noted — and, as in the former instance, when they
are by themselves, and can have no motive for playing a false part.
Salanio speaks of the Merchant as " the good Antonio — O that I
had a title good enough to keep his name company ! " Gratiano
also calls him " the good Antonio," and in the trial scene he cannot
find language intense enough to express his grief and wrath on
account of the Jew's merciless spite against Antonio, and his exult-
ant irony when the Daniel come to judgment has decided in favour
of the Merchant. Can these be parasitical friends?

Antonio has been often called a " melancholy " man, but he is
not such by nature, though grave and earnest. At the opening of
the play the shadow of coming misfortune already hangs over him.
He is sad, he knows' not why, but it is the poet's fondness for pre-
sentiments that has made him so. It surprises his friends, which,
no less than his own comments upon it, indicates that it is not his
ordinary mood. We are sure that he must be usually genial, or he

Appendix 209

could not attract these lively young men, who, as we have seen, are
no parasites ; and we infer from their talk that he can even be
merry at times, though probably in no boisterous way.

In but one instance (see note on iv. I. 274) does he indulge in a
pun, and it is the most pathetic pun in all Shakespeare. It is in
what he supposes is to be his last speech before he dies: —

" Repent not you that you shall lose your friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt ;
For if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
I '11 pay it instantly with all my heart"

He puns that never punned before, out of pure love and pity for
his friend, whom he would fain keep from grieving at his death.
And this is the man who has been called " insensible to the softer
influences of life ! "

In the last scene of the play, where we see Antonio relieved from
the anxiety of the past two or three months, he has little to say, but
that little is in the same unselfish vein. He is troubled at the
apparent misunderstanding about the rings, and says, •' I am the
unhappy subject of these quarrels "; and he tries to make peace by
offering to become surety for Bassanio's good faith in the future.

This man, as I have said, is a favourite with Shakespeare, but
Shakespeare is never afraid to show the faults and weaknesses of
his best characters. He did not regard Antonio's treatment of the
Jew as a "virtue," although that was the medieval view of it.
Here, as everywhere, he holds the mirror up to nature, letting it
reflect the age as it was. If we consider what was then the general
feeling towards the Jews, and with what bitter contempt and detes-
tation they were regarded, even by the best Christians, how they
were abused, robbed, and persecuted, we cannot wonder at the
repugnance and scorn which the good Antonio manifests towards
Shylock — that he calls him "dog," and spits upon him. When
the Jew reminds him of these " courtesies " at the time when he is
asking the loan, Antonio replies : —

MER. OF YEN. — 14

2IO Appendix

" 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 of barren metal of his friend ?
But lend it rather to thine enemy,
Who if he break, thou mayst with better face
Exact the penalty."

Shakespeare meant that Antonio should remember that speech —
and that we should remember it — when later he is fain to beg
mercy of the "dog" he has despised and defied, and gets for
answer : —

" Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause;
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs."

SHYLOCK. — There are those who believe that Shakespeare shared
the prejudice of his time against the Jew; but to me nothing can
be clearer than that he has indirectly — and the more effectively
because indirectly — exposed and reproved its injustice. Here, as
so often in his works, he proves himself far in advance of his age.
Shylock is thwarted and punished, as he deserved to be; but he
shows his Christian adversaries that they have taught him the lesson
of revenge ; that if the Jewish maxim be " an eye for an eye, and a
tooth for a tooth," it has been fully indorsed and adopted by the
Christian — an iron rule in place of his professed golden one. " If
you wrong us," he reasons, " 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 villany you teach me, I will execute; and it shall go
hard but I will better the instruction."

There is no possible answer to this, and it is a most significant
fact that Shakespeare makes his Christians attempt none. Shylock
is left master of the field; and this is the method the poet chooses

Appendix 21 1

for reading a high moral lesson to the men of his time. Had he
ventured to do it more openly and directly, the play would have
been hooted from the stage.

It is safe, I think, to say that a decided majority of the commen-
tators and critics are now agreed that Shakespeare's sympathies are
with Shylock as the representative of a wronged and persecuted
race; and some of those on the other side appear to be there solely
because, as they say, Shakespeare was a dramatist and not a moral
teacher; or, as one of them expresses it, "he was too thoroughly
an artist to write a play with a moral purpose." Another says that,
if he had intended to enforce the lesson of toleration and charity
with regard to the Jews, he would not have selected " a rich mer-
chant plotting the murder of a Christian rival by means of a fraudu-
lent contract "; nor would he have made Shylock argue that " Jews
had a right to turn devils as freely as Christians had."

The answer to all this is easy and simple. Shakespeare did not
write the play to enforce the moral lesson. His purpose was to
dramatize a story, or combination of stories, which he found ready
to his hand, or which may have been suggested to him by the
manager of a theatre. But in depicting the Jew in the story he
saw him and his race as they were, not as they appeared to the
Christians of his time. He saw all that was bad in Shylock, but he
saw as well that the evil in him was mainly due to the treatment
he had received at the hands of the Christians. He was too great
a master of his art to preach his moral; and he knew that there
was no necessity for doing it. He simply sets the Jew himself
before us as he is, nothing extenuating but setting down naught in
malice, and the man gains oiir sympathy at once and inevitably.
Heine says : " When I saw this play at Drury Lane, there stood
(behind me in the box a pale, fair Briton who, at the end of the
fourth act, fell to weeping passionately, exclaiming several times,
'The poor man is wronged ! ' It was a face of the noblest Grecian
type, and the eyes were large and black. I have never been able
to forget those large and black eyes that wept for S.hylock." We

212 Appendix

may not weep with the fair English girl, but we cannot help sharing
her pity and sympathy for Shylock; and in this result the genius
of the poet, or, as Heine expresses it, " the genius of humanity that
reigned in him," is triumphant over vulgar prejudice and fanaticism.
It would take too much space to explain in detail how Shake-
speare accomplishes this in his delineation of the Jew : by making
him one of his most intellectual characters; by giving him a gener-
ous enthusiasm for his ancient race, religion, and law; and by little
touches showing that he is not destitute of tenderness, or at least
of reminiscences of tenderness, as when he mourns the loss of the
ring that Leah gave him when he was a bachelor. There was one
soft spot in his heart, though the rest might be as hard as Gratiano
intimated when he exclaimed, while Shylock was whetting his knife
in the trial scene : —

" Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
Thou mak'st thy knife keen."

If the reader would understand better that Shylock is what he is
because Shakespeare was what we know him to be, — a poet not for
an age, but for all time, — let him read Mario we'sy<?w of Malta, and
compare the hero with Shylock. The latter, with all his avarice
and cruelty, is a man ; the former is an impossible monster, who .
boasts that he "walks abroad o' nights, and kills sick persons
groaning under walls " ; poisons wells, and studies physic that he
may keep the sextons busy " with digging graves and ringing dead
men's knells"; by his extortions fills jails with bankrupts, and hos-
pitals with orphans; chuckles when his victims hang themselves in
their despair; and finally dies unrepentant and defiant, with curses
on his lips against these enemies and infidels. But this is the ideal
Jew of Marlowe's and Shakespeare's generation !

And Martin Luther was no less prejudiced and intolerant. He
wrote thus : " Know, thou dear Christian, that, next to the devil,
thou canst have no bitterer, fiercer foe than a genuine Jew, one
who is a Jew in earnest. The true counsel I give thee is that fire

Appendix 213

be put to their synagogues, and that, over what will not burn up,
the earth be heaped and piled, so that no stone or trace of them be
seen forevermore." *

PORTIA. — About Portia there has been, and can be, but little
room for critics to differ and dispute. They are few who do not
cordially agree with Mrs. Kemble that she is " the ideal of the per-
fect woman " — that she realizes Wordsworth's description of such —

" A perfect woman, nobly planned

To warn, to comfort, and command,"
and yet —

41 A creature not too bright or good
For human nature's daily food ;
For transient sorrows, simple wiles,
Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles."

She is, in the words of the same sympathetic critic, " the wise, witty
woman, loving with all her soul and submitting with all her heart
to a man whom everybody but herself (who was the best judge)
would have judged her inferior; the laughter-loving, light-hearted,
true-hearted, deep-hearted woman, full of keen perception, of
active efficiency, of wisdom prompted by love, of tenderest unselfish-
ness, of generous magnanimity; noble, simple, humble, pure; true,
dutiful, religious, and full of fun; delightful above all others, the
woman of women."

I quote this because, in brief compass, it brings out all the
marked features of the character. What can we add to it ? What
can we take away?2

As I have hinted, a small minority of the critics have their dis-
paraging comments on Portia. Hazlitt says that she is " not a
great favourite " with him; she " has a certain degree of affectation
and pedantry about her." Mr. C. A. Brown cannot go so far as

1 From Furness's " New Variorum " edition of the play, p. 453.

2 If anything, the intimation that Bassanio was not entirely worthy of
Portia ; but, as Mrs. Kemble admits, Portia was the best judge of that.

214 Appendix

Hazlitt does, but thinks she is not quite so amiable as Mrs. Jameson
makes her out; he calls her "a feudal lady," who seems to "re-
joice in laying down the law, and feels a triumphant delight while
she detains the court in suspense." Hudson considers that she is
at times " too self-conscious," though he sees " nothing like ostenta- <
tion or conceit of intellect " in her.

These criticisms are all in the same vein, and Hazlitt's, being the
most severe, may be taken as including the rest; but Hazlitt,
though an acute critic, had his moods and prejudices, and he doubt-
less wrote what I have quoted when he was not in the humour for
appreciating a character like Portia. Certainly we can find noth-
ing of pedantry or affectation in her, even when she is playing the
doctor's part at the trial. An inferior woman, " coached " for the
occasion by the learned Bellario, would have been likely to overdo
the part in the endeavour to carry it out successfully and effectively.
She would have behaved more like a young lawyer in all the pride
of his first case in court, who felt that the aid and advice of his
experienced senior had insured his success. But Portia maintains
throughout the quiet dignity of a truly great lawyer, who is tempted
to no affectation of learning, no display of legal acumen, but states
his case clearly, simply, and briefly. The only eloquent passage in
her management of the cause — using the word in its ordinary
sense — is in the famous plea for mercy, which is surely not a dis-
play of rhetoric, but a natural outburst from the heart. In short,
her bearing from first to last is as modest as it is dignified.

Elsewhere in the play her modest opinion of herself is repeatedly
illustrated. She speaks of the suitors who come to hazard for her
"worthless self"; and in that matchless speech after Bassanio has
chosen the right casket, she disclaims ambition for herself, but

adds : —

" 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 virtues, beauties, livings, friends,

Appendix 215

Exceed account. But the full sum of me
Is sum of nothing, which, to term in gross,
Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd:
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 in 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. I give them with this ring."

is there any " pedantry " in that ? Is this noble heiress, who thus
frankly gives herself and all that is hers to the lover who has won
her, affected and vain ? The utmost that she claims for herself is
that she is not so dull but she can learn — which is far enough from
the pride of pedantry. Mr. Grant White was not fond of learned
women, — or, at least, of a certain type of such women, — but even
he does no injustice to Portia. He sums up her character in -a
single sentence as " the matchless impersonation of that rare
woman who is gifted even more in intellect Jlian_J_nJoyeliness, and
who yet stops gracefully short of the offence of intellectuality."
The word intellectuality, as he uses it, seems to bear somewhat the
same relation to intellect that sentimentality does to sentiment, sug-
gesting a self-consciousness or self-conceit which is an essential ele-
ment in pedantry. It carries a certain degree of reproach with it;
but White is unquestionably right in acknowledging that, with all
her high intellectual endowments, Portia is nowise liable to the
charge of "intellectuality."

The lighter and more playful side of Portia's character is well
displayed in the very first scene in which she appears. Her descrip-
tions of the suitors are as witty as they are graphic, showing alike .

2 1 6 Appendix

her insight into character and her love of fun. How completely
the men are photographed in a sentence or two ! The Neapolitan
prince " doth nothing but talk of his horse." But a " horsey " man
is not necessarily a fool, like this fellow who plumes himself on
being able to shoe his horse. He is a prince, but his highest ambi
tion is to be his own blacksmith. Do we need to know anything
more about him ? What a husband for the peerless Portia if the
lottery of the caskets had given her to him ! But, as Nerissa philo-
sophically remarks, "holy men at their death have good inspira-
tions," and her father's device for getting her a mate is likely to be
governed by a wise Providence. She will escape this unprincely
prince; and the morose and self-conceited County Palatine, like a
death's head with a bone in his mouth; and the volatile French
lord, who would be twenty husbands in one, and that one worth-
less; and the young baron of England, who has travelled in many
lands and brought home nothing but his motley apparel and his
mcngrel behaviour; and the cowardly Scotchman, who lacks the
spirit to return a blow, but swears he will do it some day; and the
guzzling German, who at his best is worse than a man, and at his
worst is little better than a beast. Luckily this parcel of wooers
will trouble the lady with no more suit, unless she may be won
otherwise than by the chance of the caskets; and we may be sure
that she is sincere in wishing them a fair departure.

But, as Mrs. Jameson remarks, " all the finest parts of Portia's
character are brought to bear in the trial scene"; and here I
cannot do better than to go on with her admirable comments on
the scene, instead of attempting to make any of my own : —

"There she shines forth, all her divine self. Her intellectual
powers, her elevated sense of religion, her high honourable princi-
ples, her best feelings as a woman, are all displayed. She maintains
at first a calm self-command, as one sure of carrying her point in
the end; yet the painful heart-thrilling uncertainty in which she
keeps the whole court until suspense verges upon agony, is not con-
trived for effect merely; it is necessary and inevitable. . . . Thus all

Appendix 217

the speeches addressed to Shylock in the first instance are either
direct or indirect experiments on his temper and feelings. She
must be understood from the beginning to the end as examining,
with intense anxiety, the effect of her own words on his mind and
countenance; as watching for that relenting spirit which she hopes
to awaken either by reason or persuasion. She begins by an appeal
to his mercy, in that matchless piece of eloquence which, with an
irresistible and solemn pathos, falls upon the heart like « gentle dew
from heaven ' : — but in vain; for that blessed dew drops not more
fruitless and unfelt on the parched sand of the desert, than do these
heavenly words upon the ear of Shylock. She next attacks his
avarice : —

" ' Shylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee ! *

Then she appeals, in the same breath, both to his avarice and his

'"Be merciful !
Take thrice thy money. Bid me tear the bond.'

All that she says afterwards — her strong expressions, which are
calculated to strike a shuddering horror through the nerves, the
reflections she interposes, her delays and circumlocution to give
time for any latent feeling of commiseration to display itself, — all,
all are premeditated, and tend in the same manner to the object
she has in view.1

" So unwilling is her sanguine and generous spirit to resign all
hope, or to believe that humanity is absolutely extinct in the bosom
of the Jew, that she calls on Antonio, as a last resource, to speak
for himself. His gentle, yet manly resignation, the deep pathos of
his farewell, and the affectionate allusion to herself in his last address
to Bassanio : —

" ' Commend me to your honourable wife ;
Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death/ etc.—

1 This is a sufficient answer to Mr. C. A. Brown's criticism, that she
delights in keeping the court in suspense.

2 1 8 Appendix

are well calculated to swell that emotion which through the whole
scene must have been labouring suppressed within her heart.

" At length the crisis arrives, for patience and womanhood can
endure no longer; and when Shylock, carrying his savage bent ' to the
last hour of act,' springs on his victim — * A sentence ! come, prepare ! '
then the smothered scorn, indignation, and disgust burst forth with
an impetuosity which interferes with the judicial solemnity she had'
at first affected, particularly in the speech —

'"Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh,' etc.

But she afterwards recovers her propriety, and triumphs with a
cooler scorn and a more self-possessed exultation.

" It is clear that, to feel the full force and dramatic beauty of this
marvellous scene, we must go along with Portia as well as with
Shylock ; we must understand her concealed purpose, keep in mind
her noble motives, and pursue in our fancy the undercurrent of
feeling working in her mind throughout. The terror and the power
of Shylock's character, his deadly and inexorable malice, would be
too oppressive, the pain and pity too intolerable, and the horror of
the possible issue too overwhelming, but for the intellectual relief
afforded by this double source of interest and contemplation."

BASSANIO. — Bassanio has been misrepresented and underrated
by some of the critics, and the reason is not far to seek. In a play,
as in real life, a person may have a part not at all proportionate to
his abilities, and may consequently fail to be appreciated as he
deserves. In the present play Portia has great and varied oppor-
tunities ; hence she can display her great and varied endowments.
Bassanio, on the other hand, has nothing to do except to marry
Portia, who was practically won before the play begins. The
prominent part she has in' the action, and the power and grace
with which she discharges it, throw her husband completely into
the shade. As Nerissa tells us, he is " a scholar and a soldier "
(we have the ideal man of the time in that simple statement), but
he has no opportunity to prove himself either soldier or scholar.

Appendix 219

To a careless observer he seems to be, as he has often been called,
a fortune-hunter ; but Shakespeare is quick to foresee any possible
injustice we may do his favourite characters and to guard them well
against it, and he has done so in this instance. When Bassanio
tells Antonio about Portia, note how her fortune is subordinated to
her beauty and her character : —

" In Belmont is a lady richly left ;
And she is fair and, fairer than that word,
Of wondrous virtues."

He has met her, moreover, and, as we learn in the next scene,
before her father's death ; and, like Ferdinand and Miranda in
The Tempest, at the first sight they " changed eyes." To remove
any possible doubt that the budding love was mutual, and that
Bassanio had not misapprehended the " fair speechless messages "
from the lady's eyes, the dramatist gives us that exquisite bit of
dialogue (i. 2. 112 fol.) in which the sly Nerissa, whose feminine
instinct has, perhaps, been quicker to discern the true state of the
case than the lovers themselves, entraps her mistress into an in-
voluntary betrayal of her interest in the young man : —

"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 Montferrat ?

Portia. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so was he called."

What significance in the duplication of thatjj/^/ It shows that
this speech is Portia's impulsive expression of what till then had
been shut up in her heart. It comes out before she is aware, and
with quick maidenly shyness she withdraws again into herself,
covering the retreat by that " as I think, so was he called," — "I
believe that was- the man's name ! " And yet, what critic has
noticed the delicate touch, or what actress ever rightly rendered it ?

We see later (iii. 2. 248 fol.) how frankly Bassanio, when .he did
impart his love to Portia, told her that all the wealth he had ran in
his veins. Was that done like a fortune-hunter ?

22O Appendix

But some may say that, however this may be, Bassanio is in no
respect a worthy mate for Portia. They will class him with Proteus
and Claudio (him of Much Ado) and Bertram and others, to whom
Shakespeare gives wives much too good for them. For myself, I
cannot put Bassanio in this ignoble company. If, as we have seen,
he is the mere "walking gentleman" of the stage, he is a gentle-
man in the best sense of the term, a man after Shakespeare's own
heart, and not unworthy of the friendship of Antonio and the love
of Portia. In the matter of the caskets, as Dowden well says,
" Bassanio is ennobled in our eyes by his choice ; for the gold,
silver, and lead, with their several inscriptions, are a test of true
lovers." He " does not come as a needy adventurer to choose the
golden casket, or to ' gain ' or ' get ' anything, but, in the true spirit
of self-abandoning love, to ' give,' not to ' get,' ' and hazard all he
hath '; and, having dared to give all, he gains all." And the
manner in which he receives this great good gift of Fortune is
characteristic. It is not the manner of the Jason who has won
the golden fleece and exults in the prize. He can scarce believe
that he has gained the lady, and stands bewildered, doubtful
whether it can be true, until confirmed, signed, ratified by her.
When his friends from Venice arrive a little later, what delicacy in
his greeting !

" Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither ;

If that the youth of my new interest here

Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave,

I bid my very friends and countrymen,

Sweet Portia, welcome."

The lady had already recognized him as " her lord, her governor,
her king," and had said : —

" Myself and what is mine to you and yours
Is now converted."

And how easily and confidently the man who had an eye to her
fortune rather than to herself would have entered into possession

Appendix 221

on such a warrant! Bassanio, overwhelmed with the gift of
herself, cannot yet give a thought to his rights in what is hers.
Though lord of the fair mansion, the first claim upon his hospitality
takes him by surprise, and he appeals to Portia for authority to
exercise his newly acquired rights and privileges.

Several commentators agree in thinking that Portia selected the
Song in this scene in order to give Bassanio a clue to the right
casket. One of them remarks : " Its general purport may be stated
to be : * Do not choose by the eye — by the glittering outside —
for it is the source of all delusion.' Hence Portia, after observing
with the greatest care all the formalities of her father's will, breaks
it just at the point of its conflict with her subjective right " ; that is,
her right to choose her own husband. The critic believes that she
is fully justified in doing this. But she has declared in the first
speech of this very scene that she will not do it : —

11 1 could teach you

How to choose right, but then I am 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."

Earlier in the play (i. 2. 106) she has said : " 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." In both cases we cannot doubt that
she means what she says.

For myself I do not believe that she had anything to do with
the selection of the song, which was probably left to the leader of
her household band of musicians (like the music for which Lorenzo
calls in v. I. 66); but if she selected it, this was done before the
scene opened, and before she declares to Bassanio that she will
never " teach him how to choose right."

I suspect that it would never have occurred to the commentators
that the song had a purpose if they had not been misled by the
first line — the first word indeed — of Bassanio's speech that fol-

222 Appendix

lows : " So may the outward shows be least themselves." But the
So connects what he says, not with any suggestion of the song, but
with what has been going on in his mind while he was studying the
caskets. The thought that appearances are deceitful has already
occurred to him, and he continues the train of reasoning that it
starts. It is this that leads him to choose the meagre lead that
rather threatens than promises aught — that bids him "give and
hazard all he hath " rather than seek what many men desire, or
hope to get what he may deserve. This inscription on the leaden
casket is Shakespeare's own, not taken, like the others, from the
old stories; and he doubtless intended that we should recognize
the unselfishness of genuine love at which it hints as the clue to the
right choice.

THE PRINCES OF MOROCCO AND OF ARRAGON. — The subordi-
nate characters in the plays deserve more study than they ordinarily
get. Charles Cowden-Clarke, in his Shakespeare Characters, takes
up, as the title-page, states, " chiefly those subordinate"; but the
commentators generally have not much to say about them. In the
present play, for instance, these two princes have seldom been
noticed, and the few slight criticisms upon them seem to me very
unsatisfactory. Henry Morley takes Morocco to represent " the
love of money and what money can buy," while Arragon represents
"the pride of rank." The latter statement is obviously true, but
the former is absolutely without support in the text. Koenig thinks
that " what Morocco calls love is nothing but a desire to possess
Portia for her wealth and her fair reputation, — a purely superficial
affection, not an honest love down deep in the heart"; and "Por-
tia's assurance that he stood as fair as any other of her suitors con-
veys to us, who know what her feelings towards those others are, a
keen satire, which becomes extremely comic when Morocco thanks
her for it." Now, to me nothing can be clearer than that Morocco
has an honest love for Portia, while Arragon has not. We might
expect that, in a pair of scenes necessarily so much alike as these in
which the two princes try their luck with the caskets, the dramatist

Appendix 223

would endeavour to give variety in this way, which is the only one
natural or possible; and we might expect, also, that he would make
Portia recognize the difference in the two suitors, and that this
would inevitably affect her treatment of them. This is precisely
what we find on a careful reading of the scenes. Morocco is per-
mitted to appear twice, — a significant fact in itself. In the first
scene he apparently meets Portia for the first time, and, although
he has come to Belmont as a mere adventurer for the golden fleece,
he falls in love with the lady at sight, and avows it at once. She
cannot help pitying him, and tells him, with gentle courtesy, that
she is not free to choose a husband, but that, if she were, he would
stand as fair a chance as any suitor who has yet come to try the
fortune of the caskets. He is the only one of these who has really
loved her. Bassanio has not come, and she has no reason to expect
him. There is no " satire " in what she says, and nothing " comic "
in Morocco's reply. With the intuition of a lover, he detects the
sympathetic touch in her words, and thanks her for it. There is a
lover's delicacy in the expression of his gratitude : " even for that
I thank you." It is not much in the way of encouragement, but, in
his " poverty of grace," he thankfully takes what he can get, and
only very timidly intimates his hope for more hereafter. He begs
that he may go to his trial at once, though, blind Fortune being
the arbiter, he may miss the prize " and die with grieving." Portia
tells him that he must take his chance, reminding him that if he
chooses wrong he can court no other lady. " Nor will not ! " is
the prompt and expressive response. If he fails, he will be the
" cursed'st among men," with no heart for further wooing. When
he stands before the caskets, he hastily rejects the lead, because it
" threatens," but tarries long in consideration of the silver, which
promises " as much as he deserves." His own desert, he thinks,
"may not extend -so far as to the lady." There spoke the true
lover; but, like a true lover, he takes heart again, and dares to
hope he may deserve her. His birth and breeding and fortune
equal hers. " but more than these" he adds, " in love I do deserve,"

224 Appendix

— and that is no utterance of " a purely superficial affection," as
the German critic calls it. But before making his choice he will
look at the " saying graved in gold." " What many men desire !
Why, that's the lady ! " And to the end of the speech the one
theme is " the lady." Alas ! it is his exalted idea of her that leads
to the fatal decision. It were damnation to imagine her heavenly
picture shut up in the base lead; nor can she, who is ten times
undervalued to tried gold, be immured in the inferior silver. Noth-
ing worse than gold can be the setting of so rich a gem; the
" angel " (whereon he puns in pretty loverlike fashion) can repose
only in a golden bed. But it is a carrion skull, not fair Portia's
counterfeit, that he finds in the deluding gold. He must depart,
but he has too grieved a heart to take a tedious leave. "A
gentle riddance," is the kindly comment of the lady when he is
gone.

Enter now the Prince of Arragon, who loves himself better than
he loves the lady, — whose fortune, nevertheless, he fain would
have. He goes to the trial in business-like fashion,- first making
sure that the conditions are clearly understood. The gold is not
for him, because he scorns to choose what many men desire; but
the silver appeals to his self-sufficiency. He will " assume desert,"
and demands the key of the casket. " Too long a pause for that
which you find there," Portia cannot help saying, disgusted as she
is with the arrogant fool. Capell made this speech an aside, because,
if addressed to Arragon, it has " the sound of twitting him," which
he thinks is not quite in character. It may possibly be an aside,
but it is quite in keeping with what she says to him afterwards. He
considers himself ill-treated. When he finds the portrait of the
blinking idiot, he says : —

" How much unlike art thou to Portia !
How much unlike my hopes and my deservings f
4 Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves.'
Did / deserve no more than a fool's head ?
Is that my prize ? Are my deserts no greater ? "

Appendix 225

Still " my deserts," as throughout his soliloquy before the caskets,
and not a word about " the lady," who was the entire burden of
Morocco's musings. What could be more cutting than Portia's
quiet reply ? —

" To offend and judge are distinct offices,
And of opposed natures."

His offence is in having made a fool of himself; and, being a
fool, he cannot see himself as others see him. Portia intimates
pretty plainly what 'her judgment would be; and, in his impotent
wrath at the issue of his mercenary wooing, he unwittingly passes a
similar sentence upon himself in his next speech : —

" With one fool's head I came to woo,
But I go away with two."

How much unlike the parting of the heart -stricken if not heart-
broken M^iocco i "Thus hath the candle singed the moth! " is
Portia's contemptuous comment to Nerissa after the baffled fortune-
hunter has gone.

GRATIANO AND NERISSA. — The loves of Gratiano and Nerissa
are kept duly subordinate to those of Bassanio and Portia. Shake-
speare's fine discrimination is apparent even in the minutest details
of the delineation of the two couples. In the trial scene, for in-
stance, the marked difference in speeches that at first sight seem
almost identical may be noted : —

44 Bassanio. Antonio, I am married to a wife
Which is as dear to me as life itself;
But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
Are not with me esteem'd above thy life.
1 would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
Here to this devil, to deliver you.

Portia. Your wife would give you little thanks for that,
If she were by to hear you make the offer.

Gratiano. 1 have a wife, whom, I protest, I love ;
I would she were in heaven, so she could
Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.

MER. OF YEN.- — 15

226 Appendix

Nerissa. Tis well you offer it behind her back ;
The wish would make else an unquiet house."

If this dialogue were shown to a person wholly unacquainted with
the rest of the play, and he were asked which pair were the more
refined in character, and probably the higher in the social scale,
would he have any difficulty in answering the question?

Nerissa, as Hunter remarks (New Illustrations of Shakespeare,
1845) is "not a waiting-maid, in the modern sense of the term,"
but "a young lady," such persons being often found in that day
" attending on ladiec of superior distinction and fortune." She
belongs to the same class as Lucetta in 7^he Two Gentlemen of
Verona, Ursula and Margaret in Mttch Ado, Maria in Twelfth.
Night, and Helena in All's Well

Gratiano is a gentleman, like Salanio and Salarino, but not the
equal of Bassanio in rank and social standing. He goes to Belmont
with Bassanio as a companion or attendant, apparently holding for
the time being somewhat the same position with reference to his
friend as Nerissa does to Portia. Bassanio, as we see (ii. 2. 182, fol.),
thinks it necessary to give him some serious counsel as to his be-
haviour while at Belmont.

I may add what Mrs. Jameson says of the pair : " Nerissa is a
clever, confidential waiting-woman, who has caught a little of her
lady's elegance and romance; she affects to be lively and senten-
tious, falls in love, and makes her favour conditional on the fortune
of the caskets, and in short, mimics her mistress with good empha-
sis and discretion. Nerissa and the gay, talkative Gratiano are as
well matched as the incomparable Portia and her magnificent and
captivating lover."

JESSICA. — The pretty daughter of the Jew is charming in her
way, and we do not wonder that Lorenzo, who is a romantic young
fellow, falls in love with her; but she has little filial feeling. Her
cool robbery of her father — it is cool, as we see from her jesting
about it (ii. 6. 49) while committing it — proves that she is lacking

Appendix 227

in moral sense no less than in natural affection. But what has
Shylock done to make the girl love him or to cultivate her moral
perceptions? What has she seen in him but miserly greed, un-
feeling exaction, virtual robbery of the unfortunate; and in his
treatment of his family a niggardly parsimony that proved his love
of gold to be paramount to his affection for his own flesh and blood?
Brought up under such influences and with such surroundings, is it
strange that she feels no scruple in plundering the father who has
cheated her young life out of its dues of paternal love, education,
and kindness — even out of its fair share of the good things of a
merely material sort to which the child of a rich man is entitled ?
As his only heir she feels that she may help herself to what honestly
belongs to her, and take by stealth the dowry she can secure in no
other way. If we cannot quite justify her conduct, we are, never-
theless, compelled to recommend her to mercy. This, we may be
sure, was the poet's unspoken verdict in the case.

Some critics have been severe upon her for eloping with Lorenzo,
and "leaving her poor old father" to his solitary existence; for it
is evident that Leah died long ago. But, as Jessica says, " Our
house is hell," where even the foolery of that merry devil, Launce-
lot, will be seriously missed when he goes to a new master. And
Shylock is not the aged man he is often represented on the stage.
It is doubtful whether we should regard him as more than fifty.
According to Hazlitt, Kean did not make him " the decrepit old
man, bent with age," that had formerly been the theatrical Jew. He
was, we may believe, still strong in body as in mind, and well able to
take care of himself after his daughter has gone. In his reproaches
of her he says nothing of his dependence upon her filial attentions
and services.

THE LAW IN THE TRIAL SCENE

According to pne of the early traditions concerning Shakespeare,
he was an attorney's clerk for a time before he left Stratford for

228 Appendix

London ; and the many references, literal and figurative, in his
works to technicalities of the law, especially such as are not likely
to become known to non-professional people, have led Lord Camp-
bell and other specialists to believe that he must have studied law
somewhat thoroughly ; but Judge Allen, of the Supreme Judicial
Court of Massachusetts, in his recent Notes on the Bacon- Shakespeare
Question (1900), has shown that such legal allusions are equally
common in other dramatists of the time, and that Shakespeare,
instead of being uniformly accurate in these matters, as Lord
Campbell and others have assumed, is often guilty of mistakes
which a lawyer or student of law would never make. This may
be regarded as the final word on the question of the supposed legal
attainments of the dramatist.

Much has been written on the law in the present play, some taking
the ground that it favours the theory of Lord Campbell, while others
say it proves that the play could not have been written by one ac-
quainted with law. For an interesting summary of the discussion,
see Furness's " New Variorum " edition of the play, pp. 403-420,
besides scattered notes on the subject elsewhere in the volume.
Only one or two points can be referred to here.

The mention of a "single bond" in i. 3. 141 has been cited in
support of both sides of the controversy. Lord Campbell says:
" This bond to Shylock is prepared and talked about according to
all the forms observed in an English attorney's office. The dis-
tinction between a « single bond ' and a ' bond with a condition ' is
clearly referred to." But Shylock's bond is obviously a bond with a
condition, and therefore is not " single " in the legal sense. For
myself, I believe (see note on the passage) that it means "indi-
vidual bond, or one without sureties." The term is used in its
popular sense, not in a technical one. It would perhaps be refining
overmuch to suppose that Shylock craftily employs it in the latter
sense because he wants to make the " condition " appear like none
at all, — merely the "merry sport" he calls it; as if he had said,
" Give me your bond without any condition, — at least none worthy

Appendix 229

of the name or to be legally enforced, — though for the joke of the
thing we will say that I am to have a pound of your flesh if you fail
to pay up at the appointed time." I have sometimes been inclined
to explain the passage in that way. Observe that, a moment later,
Shy lock refers to the " condition " as only a nominal one :

" If he should break his day, what should I gain
By the exaction of the forfeiture ? "

He implies that he has no intention of exacting it, so the bond is
virtually " single," or to be treated as such.

As to the obviously " bad law " in the trial scene, which some
critics ascribe to Shakespeare's ignorance of law, we must bear in
mind that he took it from the familiar story on which the play was
partly founded, and that it was too effective on the stage to be
omitted. But it is a significant fact — to me, at least, for I believe
that no commentator or critic has referred to it — that the dramatist,
after using this " bad law " from the old tale, makes Portia go on

to say :

" Tarry, Jew ;

The law hath yet another hold on you," —

namely, on account of his having sought the life of Antonio. Note
at what length this is dwelt upon, and how much stress Portia lays
upon it. Note also that this is not in the various forms of the old
story, but is Shakespeare's own addition thereto. I have no doubt
that he added it solely because he knew that the original " law " was
" bad," and was not willing to rest the case upon it, as an inferior
dramatist might not improbably have done. He kept the " bad law "
for stage effect, but added the " good law " to satisfy his conscience
or his sense of justice.

THE TIME-ANALYSIS OF THE PLAY

In his paper "On the Times or Durations of the Action of
Shakspere's Plays'* (Transactions of New Shakspert Society^

230 Appendix

1877-1879), Mr. P. A. Daniel sums up the " time -analysis *•
thus : —

"Time: eight days represented on the stage; with intervals*
Total time : a period of rather more than three months.

Day i. Act I.

Interval — say a week.1
" 2. Act II. sc. i.-vii.

Interval — one day.2
" 3. Act II. sc. viii. and ix.

Interval — bringing the time to within a fortnight of

the maturity of the bond.
« 4. Act III. sc. i.

Interval — rather more than a fortnight.8
" 5. Act III. sc. ii.-iv.
" 6. Act III. sc. v., Act IV.
" 7 and 8. Act V."4

LIST OF CHARACTERS IN THE PLAY

In this list the numbers in parentheses indicate the lines the
characters have in each scene.

1 In ii. 2, we find Launcelot lamenting his hard life in Shylock's ser-
vice ; and later he becomes the servant of Bassanio. Meanwhile Bas-
sanio has engaged his ship, and is waiting for a fair wind ; and Lorenzo
has been courting Jessica. Note also what Jessica says in iii. 2. 279 fol.
All this supposes a lapse of time — say a week — since the signing of the
bond. 2 For Bassanio's journey to Belmont, etc.

8 In iii. i, Shylock says to Tubal: " Go, Tubal, fee me an officer; be-
speak him a fortnight before." This indicates an interval, between this
and the preceding scenes, of sufficient length to bring the three-months
bond to within a fortnight of its maturity. „

4 After the trial Bassanio and Antonio propose to fly towards Belmont
early next morning. Portia and Nerissa start for home that night, and
arrive on the next night (Day 7) before their husbands. Act V. begins
at a late hour that night, and ends two hours before day (Day 8) .

Appendix 23 1

Duke of Venice : iv. I (57). Whole number, 57.

Prince of Morocco : ii. I (32), 7 (71). Whole number, 103.

Prince of Arragon : ii. 9 (66). Whole number, 66.

Antonio: i. I (46), 3 (39); ii. 6 (6); iii. 3 (19); iv. I (66); v. I

(12). Whole number, 188.
Bassanio: i. I (51), 3 (16); ii. 2 (38); iii. 2(144); iv. I (50)?

v. i (42). Whole number, 341.
Salanio : i. I (ii); ii. 4 (3), 8 (21); iii. I (24). Whole number,

59-
Salarino: i. I (41); ii. 4 (3), 6 (5), 8 (34); iii. I (22), 3(4).

Whole number, 109.
Gratiano : i. I (34) ; ii. 2 (18), 4 (3), 6 (20) ; iii. 2 (31) ; iv. I (33),

2 (5); v- 1 (34)« Whole number, 178.
Lorenzo: i. I (6); ii. 4 (27), 6 (21); iii. 2 (5), 4(12), 5 (34);

v. I (76). Whole number, 181.
Shylock: i. 3(134); "• 5 (39); Hi- i (72), 3 06); iv. I (103).

Whole number, 364.
Tubal : iii. I (16). Whole number, 16.
Launcelot: ii. 2 (120), 3 (5), 4 (6), 5 (15); iii. 5 (35); v. I (7).

Whole number, 188.

Old Gobbo : ii. 2 (41). Whole number, 41.
Salerio : iii. 2(20); iv. i (4). Whole number, 24.
Leonardo : ii. 2 (2). Whole number, 2.
Balthazar : iii. 4 (i). Whole number, i.
Stephano : v. i'(8). Whole number, 8.
Servant: i. 2 (5); ii. 9 (n); iii. i (2). Whole number, 18.
Musician : iii. 2 (9). Whole number, 9.
Portia: i. 2 (96); ii. I (17), 7 (9), 9 (20); iii. 2 (118), 4 (71);

iv. i (138), 2 (12); v. i (108). Whole number, 589.
Nerissa: i. 2(46); ii. 9(6); iii. 2(5), 4(2); iv. I (22), 2 (4);

v. i (25). Whole number, no.
Jessica : ii. 3 (16), 5 (4), 6 (18) ; iii. 2 (7), 4 (i), 5 (29) ; v. I (14).

Whole number, 89.
«AU " .• iii. 2 (i). Whole number, I.

23 2 Appendix

In the above enumeration, parts of lines are counted as whole
lines, making the total in the play greater than it is. The actual
number of lines in each scene (Globe edition numbering) is as
follows: i. I (186), 2(147), 3 O^S); »• i (46), 2 (215), 3 (21),
4(40), 5 (57). 6(68), 7 (79), 8(53), 9(101); in. i (136), 2(330),
3 (36), 4 (84), 5 (96); iv. i (458), 2 (19); v. i (307). Whole
number in the play, 2662.

INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES
EXPLAINED

a' (=he), 168

beholding (=beholden),

complexion (quadrisylla-

a many, 193

163

ble), 165

abide (=bear), 195

beshrew, 175, 182

compromised, 162

accomplished, 191

best conditioned and un-

conceit, 154, 190

achieve, 186

wearied, 1 88

condition, 160

address, 178

bestow, 171

conditioned, 188

advice, 200

best-regarded, 165

confiscate (participle), 199

advised, 155, 166

bid forth, 172

confound, 188

advisedly, 206

Black-Monday, 173

confusions, 168

afeard, 175

blest or cursed'st, 167

constant, 187

agitation (= cogitation) ,

bonnet, 159

contain, 205

192

bottom, 152

contemplation (metre) ,

alablaster, 154

brave, 192

191

alas the while! 166

break his day, 164

continent, 185

Alcides, 166, 184

break up (=break open),

contrive (=ploO, 200

aleven, 171

172

conveniency, 196

alien (trisyllable), 200

breed of barren metal,

convenient, 191

all my whole, 192

163

conveniently, 178

an (=if), 158

Brutus' Portia, 156

cope, 200

and (=an), 158

burial, 152

could not do withal, 192

and so following, 161

by (=about), 158, 178

counterfeit (= portrait),

Andrew, 152

185

angel (coin), 176

can, 160

county (=count), 158

appropriation, 158
approve (=prove), 183

carrion (in contempt), 195
carrion death, 177

courtesy, 152, 205
cousin, 191

argosy, 151

cater-cousin, 170

cover, 178, 193

as (omitted), 189

cerecloth, 176

Cressida, 201

as who should say, 154

ceremony, 206

crisped, 184

aspect (accent), 152, 165

charge upon interroga-

current, 195

at full, 206

tories, 206

curtsy, 152

attempt (=tempt), 200

Charybdis, 192

attended, 203

cheer, 188, 193

danger, 197

avail (avale\ 152

cherubin, 202

Daniel come to judgment,

aweary, 157

childhood proof, 156

198

Chus, 188

Dardanian wives, 183

balance (plural), 198

circumstance, 156

dear (adverb), 189

Balthazar, 191

civil doctor, 206

deny, 188, 190, 191

Barrabas, 199

close (=secret), 175

depart (=part), 177

bate, 190

commandement, 200

description (quadrisylla

be (=are), 161, 175, 199

commends (noun), 179

ble), 188

be friends with, 164

commodity, 157, 190

desire you of pardon, 909

beefs, 165

companion (contemptu-

determine, 196

beest, 175

ous), 190

Dido, 201

233

234 Index of Words and Phrases

Difference of, 172
disable, 175

gear, 155, 171
Gentile (play upon), 175

incision for your love, 165
Indian beauty, 185

discharge, 188, 198

ginger, 180

insculped, 176

discretion, 193

glister, 177

interest, 161

dish of doves, 31, 170

Gobbo, 168

inter'gatories, 206

distinct (accent), 179

go give, 197

intermission (metre), 186

do we so, 178

go hard, 181

issuing, 187

doit, 164

go to, 163

doth, 187

SD we in, 202

Jacks, 192

doublet, 159

od bless the mark! 167

Jacob's staff, 173

ducat, 160

God sort all ! 205

Janus, 152

dull-eyed, 190

God's sonties, 168

jaundice, 154

dwell (=contmue), 164

good (commercial), 160

Jewess, 173

good sweet, 193

judgment, 196

eanling, 162

Goodwins, 180

jump, 178

Endymion, 204

gramercy, 170

enow, 193

gratify, 200

keep (=dwell), 190

envious, 188

gree, 169

knap, 180

envy, 188, 194, 196

green-eyed jealousy, 185

knave, 165

Erebus, 203

guard (=trim), 170

estate, 178, 187

gudgeon, 155

leave (=part with), 205

exceeding (adverb), 153

guiled, 184

level at, 158

excess, 162

liberal, 171

exchange, 174

had better, 158

Lichas, 166

exclaim on, 186

had rather to, T58

light (play upon), 184, 205

excrement, 184

hair (dissyllable), 188

like (=likelv),i76

exhibit, 171

hairs, 185

likely, 180

hangman, 196

line of life, 170

fair (play upon?) 166

hard food for Midas, 185

liver, 154, 184

faithless, 172

hear thee, 171

living, 186, 206

fall ^transitive), 163

heels (play upon), 167

lodged, 195

fancy (=love), 183
father, 169
fear (causative), 165

high-day, 180
high-gravel-blind, 168
his (=its), 183, 202

loose, 194
lord worshipped might he
be! 169

fear (=fearfor), 183, 192

hit, 187

love (=lover), 199

fearful, 165

holy crosses, 202

lover, 190

fill up (=fulfil), 197

hood, 175

fill-horse, 169

hose (round), 159

magnificoes, 188

find forth, 156
fire (dissyllable), 179
flight (of arrow), 155

hour (dissyllable), 179
humility, 180
husbandry, 191

main, 195
make moan, 155, 190
making question, 156

follow (=insist upon), 198

Hyrcanian, 175

manage (noun), 191

fond, 178, 189

mannerly (adverb), 180

fool (adjective), 155, 178

I (=me), 189

mantle (verb), 154

fool-gudgeon, 155

I were best, 177, 205

many a time and oft, 163

for (=because), 161

I wis, 179

marry, 168

for my love, 165
forfeit, 189

if that, 175, 187
impeach the freedom of

martlet, 178
master (as title), 168

forth, 156, 172, 173

the state, 188

masters of passion, 195

fraught, 177

imposition, 159, 191

match, 1 80

from (=away from), 186

in (=go in), 170

matched, 181

in (=into), 202

may, 160

gaberdine, 163

in all sense, 205

me (expletive), 163, 169

gaged, 155

in supposition, 160

Medea, 202

gaping pig, 195

in the weather, 178

melancholy bait, 155

garnished, 193

incarnation, 168

mere, 187

Index of Words and Phrases 235

methought, 162

parts, 196

Rialto, 32, 160

Midas, 185

passion, 177, 195

richly left, 156

mincing, 192

patch, 173

ripe, 162

mind of love, 178

patine, 202

riping, 178

misbeliever, 163

pawned, 193

road, 206

miscarried, 206

peep through their eyes,

royal merchant, 195

misery (accent), 199

i52

ruin (=refuse), 179

moe, 155

peize, 182

rule, 197

moiety, 195

persuaded with, 188

more elder, 198

pied, 162

Sabaoth (=Sabbath), 195

music (=musicians), 202

pilled, 163

Salerio, 186

muttons, 165

play the fool, 153

sand-blind, 168

mutual, 203

please (impersonal), 161,

say by, 158

myself (subject), 166

164

scant (verb), 166

pleasure (verb), 160

scape, 188

narrow seas, 177

poesy, 205

scarfed bark, 174

naughty, 182, 189

port, 155, 188

scrubbed, 205

Nazarite, 161

possess, 162, 195, 200

Scylla, 192

needs, 172, 190

posy, 205

sealed under for another,

Nestor, 153

prefer, 170

J59

nice, 166

presence, 183

season, 198, 204

no impediment to let him

presently, 157

seasoned, 183

lack, 197
nor (double negative),

prest, 156
prevent, 153

self (adjective), 156
sensible, 178, 179

i57» l67

prize (=contest), 186

shall (=will), 155, 186

note, 1 86

producing holy witness,

should, 155, 159, 188

nothing undervalued, 156

I63

show (=appear), 198

proof, 156

shows (= represents), 198

obdurate (accent), 194

proper, 158

shrewd, 187

obliged, 174

provided of, 172

Sibylla, 159

obscure (accent), 176

publican, 161

simple, 183

occasion, 155

pursue (accent), 199

single bond, 164

ocean (trisyllable), 151

Pythagoras, 196

sisters three, 169

o'erlooked, 182
of (=about). 162, 171

quaint, 171, 192

skipping spirit, 171
slubber, 177

of (=by, with), 172
of (=for), 173
of force, 200

qualify, 194
quality of mercy, 197
quarrelling with occasion,

smug, 1 80
so ... as, 159
so (=if ), 186

of (omitted), 155

J93.

so (omitted), 192

office of discovery, 175

question, 195

so (=so be it), 165

old (intensive), 200

quicken his embraced

so (=well), 181

on 't, 175, 205

heaviness, 178

sola, 202

on your charge, 199
opinion (quadrisyllable),

rain thy joy, 185

some (=about), 172
something (adverb), 155

?54, 193 -
opinion of wisdom, 154

rath, 158
rather, 158

sometime, 156
sometimes, 156

Orpheus, 203

raw, 192

sonties, 168

ostent, 171, 178

reason (=converse), 177

sooth, 151

other (plural), 152

regreet, 179

soothsayer, 151

overpeer, 152

remorse, 194

Sophy, 166

over- weathered, 174

reproach (play upon), 173

sort (=dispose), 205

respect, 153, 103

sort (noun), 159

pageant, 151
pain (=pains), 171

respect upon, 153
respective, 205

soul (play upon), 196
speak me fair, 199

parcel, 159
part (=depart), 177

rest (set up one's), 169
rest you fair, 162

sped, 179
spet, 163

2j6 Index of Words and Phrases

spirit (monosyllable), 171

tricksy, 193

well to live, 168

spoke (=spoken), 186
spoke us of, 171

Tripolis, 160
Troilus, 201

what (of impatience), i7j
what (=what a), 141

squander, 161

truth (=honesty), 198

where (=whereas), 156

starve, 197

tucket, 204

which (omitted), 157

state, 187

turquoise, 182

which (the), 160, 199

stead, 1 60

which (=who), 175, 199,

steal your thoughts, 165

uncapable, 194

204

Stephano (accent), 202

underta'en, 172

whiles, 160

sterve, 197

undertook, 172

who (omitted), 129, 156

still, 152, 155, 183, 199

undervalued, 156, 176

who (=which), 175

studied in a sad ostent. 171

unfurnished, 185

who (=whom), 157, 174

substance ( =amount) , 199

unhandled colts, 203

who (with supplementary

success, 187

unpleasant'st, 187

pronoun), 164

suited, 159

unthrift, 202

why, so. 181

Sultan Solyman, 166

unthrifty, 165

wi ful stillness, 154

sum of nothing, 186

untread again, 174

will, 173

swan-like end, 183

upon more advice, 200

will (verb omitted), 171,

sweet, 193

upon my power, 196

.185

swelling port, 155

upon supposed fairness,

willow, 200

swift (adverb), 186

184

wit, 166

upon the hip, 161, 199

with all my heart Cplay

table (of the hand), 170

urge, 206

upon), 199

teaches (plural), 164

usance, 161

with imagined speed, 191

temple (=chapel), 167

use, 199, 200

within his danger, 197

that (with conj.)> i75> 187

usury, 161

within the eye of honour,

the which, 160

.T55

thee (=thou), 171

ail, 152

wives (=women), 183

this (=-all this), 152

antage, 186

wolf hanged, 196

Thisbe, 201

asty, 176

would (=wish), 162

thorough (=through), 144

enture, 152

wracked, 180

thou (of servants), 191

Tenus' pigeons, 174

writ, 172

thought (=love), 165

ery (adjective), 187

wroth, 179

throughfare, 176

ia! 167

wry-necked fife, 173

throughly, 176, 197

inegar aspect, 152

thrift, 157

irtue, 205

yeanling, 162

time (=time of life), 155

yet (with negative), 179

to (omitted), 176, 190, 197

waft (= wafted), 201

younger (=younker), 174

to-night (=last night), 172
too-too, 174

waste, 190
wealth, 206

yours (dissyllable), 182
yourself (subject), 166

towards my rest, 172

weather, 178

you were best, 177, 205

trailed, 101

weeping philosopher, 158

ywis, 179

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRAR
BERKELEY

Return to desk from which borrowed.
This book is DUE on the last date stamped bel<

YB 77540

cop

- 3

THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY

Internet Archive Audio

Featured

Top

Images

Featured

Top

Software

Featured

Top

Books

Featured

Top

Video

Featured

Top

Mobile Apps

Browser Extensions

Archive-It Subscription

Save Page Now

Full text of "Shakespeare's comedy of the Merchant of Venice;"

See other formats