Enter Antonio, Salerio and Solanio
ANTONIO
In sooth
I know not why I am so sad.
It wearies me, you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff
'tis made of, whereof it is born
,
I am to learn
:
And such a want-wit
sadness makes of me
That I have much ado
to know myself.
SALERIO
Your mind is tossing on
the ocean,
There where your argosies
with portly
sail
Like signiors
and rich burghers
on the flood
,
Or as it were the pageants
of the sea,
Do overpeer
the petty traffickers
That curtsy
to them, do them reverence
,
As they fly
by them with their woven wings
.
SOLANIO
Believe me, sir, had I such venture
forth
,
The better part
of my affections
would
Be with my hopes
abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grass to know where sits
the wind,
Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads
,
And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures out of doubt
Would make me sad.
SALERIO 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 hour-glass run,
But I should think of shallows and of flats
,
And see my wealthy
Andrew
docked in sand,
Vailing
her high top
lower than her ribs
To kiss her burial
; should I
go to church
And see the holy edifice of stone,
And not bethink me straight
of dang'rous rocks,
Which touching but
my gentle
vessel's side,
Would scatter all her spices on the stream
,
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks
,
And in a word, but even
now worth this
,
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
To think on this, and shall I lack the thought
That such a thing bechanced
would make me sad?
But tell not me, I know, Antonio
Is sad to think upon his merchandise.
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.
SALERIO Why, then you are in love.
ANTONIO
Fie
, fie!
SOLANIO Not in love neither: then let us say you are sad
Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy
For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus
,
Nature hath framed
strange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep
through their eyes
And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper
,
And other
of such vinegar aspect
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile,
Though
Nestor
swear the jest be laughable.
Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano
SOLANIO Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well,
We leave you now with better company.
SALERIO I would have stayed till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented
me.
ANTONIO
Your worth is very dear
in my regard
.
I take it your own business calls on you,
And you embrace
th'occasion
to depart.
SALERIO Good morrow, my good lords.
BASSANIO
Good signiors both, when shall we laugh
? Say, when?
You grow exceeding strange
. Must it be so?
SALERIO
We'll make our leisures to attend on yours
.
Exeunt Salerio and Solanio
LORENZO My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
We two will leave you, but at dinnertime
I pray you have in mind
where we must meet.
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
changed.
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,
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 jaundices
By being peevish
? I tell thee what, Antonio —
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks —
There are a sort of men whose visages
Do cream and mantle
like a standing
pond,
And do a wilful
stillness
entertain
,
With purpose to be dressed in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit
,
As who should say
, 'I am, sir, an oracle,
And when I ope
my lips, let no dog bark!'
O my Antonio, I do know of these
That therefore only are reputed wise
For saying nothing; when I am very sure
If they should speak, would almost damn those ears
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools
.
I'll tell thee more of this another time.
But fish not with this melancholy bait
For this fool
gudgeon
, this opinion.
Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile,
I'll end my exhortation
after dinner.
LORENZO Well, we will leave you then till dinnertime.
To Antonio and Bassanio
I must be one of these same dumb
wise men,
For Gratiano never lets me speak.
GRATIANO Well, keep me company but two years more,
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
ANTONIO
Fare you well, I'll grow
a talker for this gear
.
GRATIANO Thanks, i'faith, for silence is only commendable
In a neat's tongue dried
and a maid not vendible
.
Exit [ Gratiano with Lorenzo ]
ANTONIO
Is that anything now?
BASSANIO
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons
are two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you 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
That you today promised to tell me of ?
BASSANIO 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
How much I have disabled
mine estate
By something
showing a more swelling port
Than my faint
means would grant continuance
.
Nor do I now make moan
to be abridged
From such a noble rate
, but my chief care
Is to come fairly off from
the great debts
Wherein my time
something too prodigal
Hath left me gaged
. To you, Antonio,
I owe the most in money and in love,
And from your love I have a warranty
To unburden
all my plots and purposes
How to get clear of all the debts I owe.
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 assured
My purse, my person, my extremest means,
Lie all unlocked to your occasions
.
BASSANIO
In my schooldays, when I had lost one shaft
,
I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight
The selfsame way with more advisèd
watch
To find the other forth
, and by adventuring
both
I oft found both. I urge
this childhood proof
Because what follows is pure innocence
.
I owe you much and, like a 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,
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 pressed
unto it: therefore speak.
BASSANIO
In Belmont is a lady richly left
,
And she is fair and, fairer than that word,
Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes
from her eyes
I did receive fair speechless messages.
Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued
To
Cato
's daughter, Brutus
' Portia.
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
For the four winds blow in from every coast
Renownèd suitors, and her sunny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece
,
Which makes her seat
of Belmont Colchos' strand
,
And many Jasons come in quest of her.
O my Antonio, had I but the means
To hold a rival place with one of them,
I have a mind presages
me such thrift
,
That I should questionless
be fortunate.
ANTONIO Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea,
Neither have I money, nor commodity
To raise a present
sum: therefore go forth.
Try
what my credit can in Venice do,
That shall be racked
, even to the uttermost,
To furnish thee
to Belmont, to fair Portia.
Go presently
inquire, and so will I,
Where money is, and I no question make
To have it of my trust
or for my sake
.
Exeunt
Enter Portia with her waiting woman
, 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 small happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean
. Superfluity
comes sooner by
white hairs, but competency
lives longer.
PORTIA
Good sentences
and well pronounced
.
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 follows his own instructions; I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood
, but a hot temper
leaps o'er a cold decree
— such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes
of good counsel the cripple; but this reason is not in 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 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 overname
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.
PORTIA
Ay, that's a colt
indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse, and he makes it a great appropriation
to his own good parts
that he can shoe him himself. I am much afraid my lady his mother played false
with a smith
.
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 in his mouth than to either of these. God defend me from these two!
NERISSA
How
say you by
the French lord, Monsieur 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 than the Count Palatine. He is every man in no man
. If a throstle
sing, he falls straight
a capering
, he will fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise me, I would forgive him, for if
he love me to madness, I should 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 Latin, French, nor Italian, and you will come into the court and swear
that I have a poor pennyworth in the
English. He is a proper man's picture
, but alas, who can converse with a dumb show
? How oddly he is suited
. I think he bought his doublet
in Italy, his round hose
in France, his bonnet
in Germany, and his behaviour everywhere.
NERISSA What think you of the other lord, his neighbour?
PORTIA
That he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for he borrowed
a box of the ear of the Englishman and swore he would pay him again when he was able. I think the Frenchman became his surety
and sealed under
for another
.
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.
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 contrary
casket, for if
the devil be within, and that temptation without
, I know he will choose it. I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge
.
NERISSA
You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords. They have acquainted me with their determinations
, which is indeed to return to their home, and to trouble you with no more suit
, unless you may be won by some other sort
than your father's imposition
, depending on the caskets.
PORTIA
If I live to be as old as Sibylla
, I will die as chaste as Diana
, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's will. I am glad this parcel
of wooers are so reasonable, for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I 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 Montferrat
?
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.
PORTIA I remember him well, and I remember him worthy of thy praise.
Enter a Servingman
SERVANT
The four strangers
seek you, madam, to take their leave. And there is a forerunner
come from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings word the prince his master will be here tonight.
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 condition
of a saint and the complexion of a devil
, I had rather he should shrive me
than wive
me. Come, Nerissa.— Sirrah
, go before; whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door.
To the Servingman
Exeunt
Enter Bassanio with Shylock
the Jew
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.
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 saying he is a good man is to have you understand me that he is sufficient
. Yet his means are in supposition
: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis
, another to the Indies
, I understand moreover, upon the Rialto
, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and other ventures he hath squandered
abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors but men. There be landrats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves — I mean pirates
— and then there is the peril of waters, winds and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding
, sufficient. 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 Antonio?
BASSANIO If it please you to dine with us.
SHYLOCK
Yes, to smell pork, to eat of the habitation
which your prophet the Nazarite
conjured the devil into. I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following
, but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here?
Enter Antonio
BASSANIO This is Signior Antonio.
SHYLOCK
How like a fawning publican
he looks!
Aside
I hate him for he is a Christian,
But more, for that in low simplicity
He lends out money gratis
and brings down
The rate of usance
here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip
,
I will feed fat
the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation
, and he rails
—
Even there where merchants most do congregate
—
On me, my bargains and my well-won thrift
,
Which he calls interest. Cursèd be my tribe
,
If I forgive him!
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?— Rest you fair
, good signior.
To Antonio
Your worship was the last man in our mouths
.
ANTONIO Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking nor by giving of excess
,
Yet to supply the ripe wants
of my friend,
I'll break a custom.— Is he yet possessed
To Bassanio
How much ye 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,
Methoughts you said you neither lend nor borrow
Upon advantage
.
ANTONIO
I do never use
it.
SHYLOCK
When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban's sheep
—
This Jacob from
our holy Abram
was,
As his wise mother wrought
in his behalf,
The third possessor
; ay, he was the third—
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 compromised
That all the eanlings
which were streaked and pied
Should fall as
Jacob's hire
, the ewes, being rank
,
In end of autumn turnèd to the rams,
And, when the work of generation
was
Between these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilful shepherd peeled me certain wands
,
And in the doing of the deed of kind
,
He stuck them up before the fulsome
ewes
,
Who then conceiving, did in eaning
time
Fall
parti-coloured 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 swayed and fashioned
by the hand of heaven.
Was this inserted
to make interest good
?
Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
SHYLOCK I cannot tell, I make it breed as fast.
But note me, signior—
ANTONIO Mark you this, Bassanio,
The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly
apple rotten at the heart.
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
SHYLOCK Three thousand ducats, 'tis a good round sum.
Three months from twelve, then let me see, the rate—
ANTONIO
Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding
to you?
SHYLOCK 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 spit upon my Jewish gaberdine
,
And all for use
of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help.
Go to
, then. You come to me and you say
'Shylock, we would have moneys' — you say so,
You that did void
your rheum
upon my beard,
And foot
me as you spurn
a stranger cur
Over your threshold. Moneys is your suit
.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
'Hath a dog money? Is it possible
A cur should lend three thousand ducats?' Or
Shall I bend low and in a bondman's key
,
With bated
breath and whisp'ring humbleness,
Say this: 'Fair sir, you spat on me on Wednesday last;
You spurned me such a day; another time
You called me dog, and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much moneys'?
ANTONIO
I am as like
to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friends, for when did friendship take
A breed of barren
metal
of
his friend?
But lend it rather to thine enemy,
Who, if he break
, thou mayst with better
face
Exact the penalties.
SHYLOCK Why, look you how you storm!
I would be friends with you and have your love,
Forget the shames that you have stained me with,
Supply your present wants and take no doit
Of usance for my moneys, and you'll 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
Your single
bond, and in a merry sport
If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum or sums as are
Expressed in the condition
, let the forfeit
Be nominated for
an equal
pound
Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body it pleaseth me.
ANTONIO Content, in faith, I'll seal to such a bond
And say there is much kindness in the Jew.
BASSANIO You shall not seal to such a bond for me.
I'll rather 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?
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,
See
to my house, left in the fearful
guard
Of an unthrifty
knave
, and presently
I'll be with you.
Exit
ANTONIO
Hie
thee, gentle
Jew.
This 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