Plays and Poems

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

Shy. What! are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica: Love news, in faith. Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, Laun. By your leave, sir. Lor. Whither goest thou?

Meet me and Gratiano

At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.
Salar, 'Tis good we do so.

Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO. Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica? Lor. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed

And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife, sa
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.

Laun. I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this ;

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

Exit.

Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's off's ring, ha?

Jes. His words were, 'Farewell, mistress'; nothing else.

Shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder;

Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
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:

How I shall take her from her father's house; 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.

A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.

Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer.

Excunt.

Jes. Call you? What is your will?
Shy. 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'll 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.

Laun. I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect your reproach.

Shy. So do I his.

Laun. 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-bleeding on Black-Monday last, at six o'clock i' the morning, falling out that year on Wednesday was four year in the afternoon.

Ash

Do as I bid you; shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find;

Exit.

Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,

I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

SCENE VI. - The Same.

Exit.

Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.

Gra. This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo Desir'd us to make stand.

Salar.

His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he outdwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

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

Gra. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again 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 younker or a prodigal 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 t

Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the
pains.

I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
For I am much asham'd of my exchange;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jes. What! must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light. Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,

And I should be obscur'd.

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

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With some more ducats, and be with you straight.
Exit above.

Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily; 52
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.

Ant. Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest?

"Tis 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.

Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.
Must give: for what? for lead? hazard for lead?
This casket threatens. Men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross; »
I'll then not 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.
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:
The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia:
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits, but they come,
As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
Is't like that lead contains her? 'Twere

damnation

To think so base a thought it were too gross 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?

Gra. I am glad on 't: I desire no more delight | O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem Than to be under sail and gone to-night.

Exeunt.

SCENE VII. - Belmont. A Room in PORTIA'S
House.

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:

Flourish of Cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!
of MOROCCO, and their Trains.

Por, Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince.

Now make your choice.

Mor. 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.

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

Then I am yours.
Mor.

He unlocks the golden casket.
O hell! what have we here!

A carrion Death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll. I'll 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:

Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.
Salar. He came too late, the ship was under sail:
But there the duke was given to understand
That in a gondola were seen together
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica.
Besides, Antonio certified the duke
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
Silan. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets:
'My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!
Fled with a Christian! Omy Christian ducats !
Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,

Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels! two stones, two rich and precious

stones,

Stol'n by my daughter! Justice! find the girl; She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.'

Salar. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats. Salan. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, Or he shall pay for this.

Salar.

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. I thought upon Antonio when he told me, And wish'd in silence that it were not his. Salan. You were best tell Antonio what you hear; Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

Enter NERISSA with a Servitor.

Ner. 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 ARRA-
GON, PORTIA, and their Trains.

Por. 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.

Ar. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things:

First, never to unfold to any one
Which casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail
Of the right casket, never in my life
To woo a maid in way of marriage;
Lastly,

If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave you and be gone.

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

Ar. And so have I address'd me. Fortune now To my heart's hope! Gold, silver, and base lead. Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath : You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard. What says the golden chest? ha! let me see: Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire. 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,

Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.
And well said too; for who shall go about
To cozen fortune and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume

40 To wear an undeserved dignity.

Salar. 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, Passanio, But stay the very riping of the time; And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me, Let it not enter in your mind of love: Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there :' And even there, his eye being big with tears, Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, And with affection wondrous sensible He wrung Bassanio's hand; and so they parted. Salan. I think he only loves the world for him.

O! that estates, degrees, and offices
Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear honour
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer.
How many then should cover that stand bare;
How many be commanded that command;
How much low peasantry would then be 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:

Ar. What's here? the portrait of a blinking
idiot,

Presenting me a schedule! I will read it.
How much unlike art thou to Portia!

the narrow seas; the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.

Salan. I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever knapped ginger, or made her neighbours believe she wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true, without any slips of prolixity or crossing the plain highway of

How much unlike my hopes and my deservings! talk, that the good Antonio, the honest Antonio,

-O, that I had a title good enough to keep his name company!

Salar. Come, the full stop.

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?
Por. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices, is, he hath lost a ship.

And of opposed natures.
Ar.

What is here?

The fire seven times tried this:
Seven times tried that judgment is
That did never choose amiss.
Some there be that shadows kiss;
Such have but a shadow's bliss:
There be fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd o'er; and so was this.
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So be gone, sir: you are sped.

Still more fool I shall appear
By the time I linger here:
With one fool's head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.
Sweet, adieu. I'll keep my oath,
Patiently to bear my wroth.

Exeunt ARRAGON and Train.

Por. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth.
O, these deliberate fools! when they do choose,
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose,
Nor. The ancient saying is no heresy:
'Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.'
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Where is my lady?
Por.

Here; what would my lord?
Serv. Madam, there is alighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before
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
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.

Por. 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. 100
Ner. Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be!

ACT III.

Exeunt.

SCENE I.- Venice. A Street.
Enter SALANIO and SALARINO.
Salan. Now, what news on the Rialto?
Salar. Why, yet it lives there unchecked that
Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wrecked on

Salan. Ha! what sayest thou? Why, the end

How now, Shylock! what news among the merchants?

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

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

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

Shy. She is damned for it.

Salar. That's certain, if the devil may be her

judge.

Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel! Salan. Out upon it, old carrion! rebels it at these years?

Shy. I say my daughter is my flesh and blood. Salar. There is more difference between thy flesh and hers 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 ?

Shy. There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto; a beggar, that used to come so smug upon the mart; let him look to his bond: he was wont to call me usurer; let him look to his bond: he was wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy; let him look to his bond. se Salar. Why. I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flesh: what's that good for?

Shy. To bait fish withal if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reason? Iama Jew. Hath not a Jew eres? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong

[merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small][ocr errors]

Exeunt SALANIO, SALARINO, and Serrant. Shy. How now, Tubal! what news from Genoa? hast thou found my daughter?

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

Shy. Why, there, there, there, there! a diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse never fell upon our nation till now; I never felt it till now: two thousand ducats in that; and other precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear! would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin! No news of them? Why, so: and I know not what's spent in the search: why, thou-lossupon 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 on my shoulders; no sighs but of my breathing; no tears but of my shedding.

101

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

Shy. What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck? Tub. hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis.

Shy. I thank God! I thank God! Is't true? is 't true?

Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck.

110

SCENE II. - Belmont. A Room in PORTIA's House.

Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA,

and Attendants.

Por. I pray you, tarry: pause a day or two Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong, I lose your company: therefore forbear awhile. There's something tells me, but it is not love, I would not lose you; and you know yourself, Hate counsels not in such a quality. But lest you should not understand me well, And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,I would detain you here some month or two Before you venture for me. I could teach you 10 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. 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, 20 Let fortune go to hell for it, not I. I speak too long; but 'tis to peise the time, To eke it and to draw it out in length, To stay you from election.

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.

Por. 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;
And what is music then? Then music is
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow
To a new-crowned monarch: such it is
As are those dulcet sounds in break of dav
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom'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!
Live thou. I live: with much, much more dismay
I view the fight than thou that mak'st the fray.

« Previous Continue »

Books