The Merchant of Venice

	The Merchant of Venice


	Dramatis Personae

	Act One Scene 1: Venice. A street.
	Act One Scene 2: Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
	Act One Scene 3: Venice. A public place.
	Act Two Scene1: Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
	Act Two Scene 2: Venice. A street
	Act Two Scene 3: Venice A room in SHYLOCK'S house.
	Act Two Scene 4: Venice. A street.
	Act Two Scene 5: Venice. Before SHYLOCK'S house.
	Act Two Scene 6: Venice Before SHYLOCK'S house
	Act Two Scene 7: Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
	Act Two Scene 8: Venice. A street.
	Act Two Scene 9: Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
	Act Three Scene 1: Venice. A street.
	Act Three Scene 2: Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
	Act Three Scene 3: Venice. A street.
	Act Three Scene 4: Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.
	Act Three Scene 5: Belmont. A garden.
	Act Four Scene 1: Venice. A court of justice.
	Act Four Scene 2: Venice A street.
	Act Five Scene 1: Belmont. Avenue to PORTIA'S house.



	Dramatis Personae

	THE DUKE OF VENICE

	THE PRINCE OF MOROCCO
	suitor to Portia
	THE PRINCE OF ARRAGON,
	suitor to Portia

	ANTONIO,
	a merchant of Venice
	BASSANIO,
	his friend
	SALANIO,
	friend to Antonio and Bassanio
	SALARINO,
	friend to Antonio and Bassanio
	GRATIANO,
	friend to Antonio and Bassanio
	LORENZO,
	in love with Jessica

	SHYLOCK,
	a rich Jew
	TUBAL,
	a Jew, his friend

	LAUNCELOT GOBBO,
	a clown, servant to Shylock
	OLD GOBBO,
	father to Launcelot
	LEONARDO,
	servant to Bassanio
	BALTHASAR,
	servant to Portia
	STEPHANO,
	servant to Portia

	PORTIA,
	a rich heiress
	NERISSA,
	her waiting-maid
	JESSICA,
	daughter to Shylock

	Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice,
	Gaoler, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants

	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 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
	I am to learn;

	SALARINO
	Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
	There, where your argosies with portly sail,
	Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
	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
	Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
	Would make me sad.

	SALARINO
	Should I go to church
	And see the holy edifice of stone,
	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? 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.

	SALARINO
	Why, then you are in love.

	ANTONIO
	Fie, fie!

	SALARINO
	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.

	Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO

	SALANIO
	Fare ye well:
	We leave you now with better company.

	SALARINO
	I would have stay'd till I had made you merry,
	If worthier friends had not prevented me.

	ANTONIO
	Your worth is very dear in my regard.

	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'll make our leisures to attend on yours.

	Exeunt Salarino and Salanio

	LORENZO
	My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
	We two will leave you: but at dinner-time,
	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: 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 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!'
	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 dinner-time:
	I 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 commendable
	In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible.

	Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO

	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,
	That you to-day 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 unlock'd to your occasions.

	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;
	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 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:

	PORTIA
	A good sentence and well pronounced.

	NERISSA
	They would be better, if well followed.

	PORTIA
	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.
	But 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 meaning
	chooses you, will, no doubt, never be chosen by any
	rightly but one who 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.

	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 afeard my lady his
	mother played false with a smith.

	NERISSA
	Then there is the County Palatine.

	PORTIA
	He doth nothing but frown, as who should say 'If 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 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.

	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?

	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.

	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,
	I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I'll 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 pray God grant
	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, he was so 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 Serving-man

	How now! what news?

	Servant
	The four strangers seek for 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 to-night.

	PORTIA
	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 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.

	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 land-rats
	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
	[Aside] How like a fawning publican he looks!
	I hate him for he is a Christian,
	But more for that in low simplicity
	He lends out money gratis and brings down
	The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
	If I 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. Cursed 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?

	To ANTONIO
	Rest you fair, good signior;
	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 possess'd
	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--
	Methought 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 streak'd and pied
	Should fall as Jacob's hire, the ewes, being rank,
	In the end of autumn turned to the rams,
	And, when the work of generation was
	Between these woolly breeders in the act,
	The skilful shepherd peel'd 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-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 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.

	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 can lend three thousand ducats?' Or
	Shall I bend low and in a bondman's key,
	With bated breath and whispering humbleness, Say this;
	'Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
	You spurn'd me such a day; another time
	You call'd 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 for barren metal of his friend?
	But lend it rather to thine enemy,
	Who, if he break, thou mayst with better face
	Exact the penalty.

	SHYLOCK
	Why, look you, how you storm!
	I would be friends with you and have your love,
	Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
	Supply your present wants and take no doit
	Of usance for my 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
	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'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 favor, 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 will be with you.

	ANTONIO
	Hie thee, gentle Jew.

	Exit Shylock

	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

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

Have loved 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 hedged 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

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 outstare the sternest eyes that look,

Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,

Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,

Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey,

To win thee, lady. But, alas the while!

If 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.

PORTIA

You must take your chance,

And either not attempt to choose at all

Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong

Never to speak to lady afterward

In way of marriage: therefore be advised.

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, Launcelot 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 courageous

fiend bids me pack: 'Via!' says the fiend; 'away!' says the

fiend; 'for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,' says the fiend,

'and run.' Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart,

says very wisely to me 'My honest friend Launcelot,

being an honest man's son,' or rather an honest woman's son;

for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to,

he had a kind of taste; well, my conscience says 'Launcelot,

budge not.' 'Budge,' says the fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience.

'Conscience,' say I, 'you counsel well;' ' Fiend,' say I, 'you counsel well:'

to be ruled by my conscience, I 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 incarnate; and,

in my conscience, my conscience is but 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 command; I will run.

    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 confusions 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; marry, at

the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn

down indirectly to the Jew's house.

GOBBO

By God's sonties, 'twill 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. Talk you

of young Master Launcelot?

GOBBO

No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his father,

though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man

and, God be thanked, well to live.

LAUNCELOT

Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of

young Master Launcelot.

GOBBO

Your worship's friend and Launcelot, sir.

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,

according to Fates and Destinies and such odd

sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of

learning, 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

Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or

a prop? Do you know me, father?

GOBBO

Alack the day, I know you not, young 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: give me your blessing: truth will come

to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son

may, but at the length 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: 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'll 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 grows

backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail

than I have of my face when I last saw him.

GOBBO

Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy

master agree? I have brought him a present. How

'gree you now?

LAUNCELOT

Father, I am glad you are come: give me

your present to one Master Bassanio, who, 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 to making,

and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.

Exit a Servant

LAUNCELOT

To him, father.

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--

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--

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 to myself, as

your worship shall know by this honest 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; thou 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.

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.

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

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 Fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear. Father,

come; I'll 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:

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!

BASSANIO

Gratiano!

GRATIANO

I have a suit to you.

BASSANIO

You have obtain'd it.

GRATIANO

You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont.

BASSANIO

Why then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano;

Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice;

Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain

To allay with some cold drops of modesty

Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior

I be misconstrued in the place I go to,

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,

never trust me more.

BASSANIO

Well, we shall see your bearing.

GRATIANO

Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me

By what we do to-night.

BASSANIO

No, that were pity: 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 SHYLOCK'S 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.

LAUNCELOT

Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful

pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian did not play

the knave and get thee, I am much deceived. But,

adieu: these foolish drops do something drown my

manly spirit: adieu.

JESSICA

Farewell, good Launcelot.

Exit Launcelot

Alack, what heinous sin is it in me

To be ashamed to be my father's child!

O Lorenzo,

If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,

Become a Christian and thy loving wife.

Exit

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 torchbearers.

SALANIO

'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd,

And better in my mind not undertook.

LORENZO

'Tis 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

this, it shall seem to signify.

LORENZO

I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand;

And whiter than the paper it writ on

Is the fair hand that writ.

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.

Go, gentlemen,

Exit Launcelot

Will you prepare you for this masque tonight?

I am provided of a torch-bearer.

SALANIO

Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.

SALANIO

And so will I.

LORENZO

Meet me and Gratiano

At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.

SALARINO

'Tis 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,

What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with,

What page's suit she hath in readiness.

Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest:

Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer.

Exeunt

SCENE V. The same. Before SHYLOCK'S house.

Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT

SHYLOCK

Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge,

The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:--

What, Jessica!--thou shalt not gormandise,

As thou hast done with me:--What, Jessica!--

And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;--

Why, Jessica, I say!

LAUNCELOT

Why, Jessica!

SHYLOCK

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

LAUNCELOT

Your worship was wont to tell me that

I could do nothing without bidding.

Enter Jessica

JESSICA

Call you? what is your will?

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'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.

LAUNCELOT

I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect

your reproach.

SHYLOCK

So do I his.

LAUNCELOT

An 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 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,

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, 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 out at

window, for all this, There will come a Christian

boy, will be worth a Jewess' eye.

Exit

SHYLOCK

What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?

JESSICA

His words were 'Farewell mistress;' nothing else.

SHYLOCK

The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder;

Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day

More than the wild-cat: Well, Jessica, go in;

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

Desired us to make stand.

SALARINO

His hour is almost past.

GRATIANO

And it is marvel he out-dwells 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?

SALARINO

Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter.

Enter LORENZO

LORENZO

Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode;

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'll 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

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 'tis night, you do not look on me,

For I am much ashamed of my exchange.

LORENZO

Descend, for you must be my torchbearer.

JESSICA

What, must I hold a candle to my shames?

I should be obscured.

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,

And 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.

Exit above

GRATIANO

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

LORENZO

Beshrew me but I love her heartily;

Enter JESSICA, below

What, art thou come? On, gentlemen; away!

Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.

Exit with Jessica and Salarino

Enter ANTONIO

ANTONIO

Who's there?

GRATIANO

Signior Antonio!

ANTONIO

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.

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?

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;

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;

I'll then nor 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:

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 graved 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 thoroughfares now

For princes to come view fair Portia:

Never so rich a gem. Deliver me the key:

Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!

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'll read the writing.

Reads

All that glitters is not gold;

Often have you heard that told:

Many a man his life hath sold

But my outside to behold:

Gilded timber do worms enfold.

Had you been as wise as bold,

Young in limbs, in judgment old,

Your answer had not been inscroll'd:

Fare you well; your suit is cold.

Cold, indeed; and labour lost:

Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!

Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart

To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.

Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets

PORTIA

A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go.

Let all of his complexion choose me so.

Exeunt

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 raised 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.

SALANIO

I never heard a passion so confused,

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! 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,

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:

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;

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

Let it not enter in your mind of love:

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.

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 Aragon hath ta'en his oath,

And comes to his election presently.

    Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF ARAGON, 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 solemnized:

But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,

You must be gone from hence immediately.

ARAGON

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.

PORTIA

To these injunctions every one doth swear

That comes to hazard for my worthless self.

ARAGON

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,

I will not choose what many men desire,

Because I will not jump with common spirits.

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

To cozen fortune and be honourable

Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume

To wear an undeserved dignity.

O, that estates, degrees and offices

Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour

Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!

'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'

I will assume desert. Give me a key for this,

And instantly unlock my fortunes here.

    He opens the silver casket

PORTIA

Too long a pause for that which you find there.

ARAGON

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

How much unlike art thou to Portia!

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

And of opposed natures.

ARAGON

What is here?

    Reads

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: 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 Aragon and train

PORTIA

Thus hath the candle singed the moth.

O, these deliberate fools! when they do choose,

They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.

NERISSA

The ancient saying is no heresy,

Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.

    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

To signify the approaching of his lord;

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.

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!

    Exeunt

ACT III

SCENE I. Venice. A street.

    Enter SALANIO and SALARINO

SALANIO

Now, what news on the Rialto?

SALARINO

Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd that Antonio hath

a ship of rich lading wrecked on 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.

SALANIO

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 cross my

prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew.

    Enter SHYLOCK

How now, Shylock! what news among the merchants?

SHYLOCK

You know, 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.

SHYLOCK

She is damned for it.

SALANIO

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

SHYLOCK

My own flesh and blood to rebel!

SALANIO

Out upon it, old carrion! Rebels it at these years?

SHYLOCK

I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood.

SALARINO

There is more difference between thy flesh and hers

than between jet and ivory; But tell us, do you hear whether

Antonio have had any loss at sea or no?

SHYLOCK

There I have another bad match: a bankrupt,

a beggar, that was used to come so smug upon

the Rialto; 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.

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 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? 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

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 villainy you

teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I

will better the instruction.

    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 cannot be

matched, unless the devil himself turn Jew.

    Exeunt SALANIO, SALARINO, and Servant

SHYLOCK

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.

SHYLOCK

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 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 on my

shoulders; no sighs but of my breathing; no tears

but of my shedding.

TUBAL

Yes, other men have ill luck too: Antonio, as I

heard in Genoa,--

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't true, is't true?

TUBAL

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

SHYLOCK

I thank thee, good Tubal: good news, good news!

ha, ha! where? in Genoa?

TUBAL

Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in one

night fourscore ducats.

SHYLOCK

Thou stickest a dagger in me: I shall never see my

gold again: fourscore ducats at a sitting!

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'll plague him; I'll 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, Tubal: it was my

turquoise; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor:

I would not have given it for a wilderness 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 before. I

will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for, were

he out of Venice, I can make what merchandise 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 awhile.

I would detain you here some month or two

Before you venture for me. I could teach you

How to choose right, but I am then forsworn;

So will I never be. 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. Prove it so,

I speak too long; but 'tis to peize 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

Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack,

Where men enforced do speak anything.

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:

But let me to my fortune and the caskets.

PORTIA

Away, then! I am lock'd in one of them:

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: such it is

As are those dulcet sounds in break of day

That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear,

And summon him to marriage. Go, Hercules!

Live thou, I live!

    Music, whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to himself

SONG.

Tell me where is fancy bred,

Or in the heart, or in the head?

How begot, how nourished?

Reply, reply.

It is engender'd in the eyes,

With gazing fed; and fancy dies

In the cradle where it lies.

Let us all ring fancy's knell

I'll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell.

ALL

Ding, dong, bell.

BASSANIO

So may the outward shows be least themselves:

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.

Look on beauty,

And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight;

Which therein works a miracle in nature,

Making them lightest that wear most of it:

So are those crisped snaky golden locks

Which make such wanton gambols with the wind,

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

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 paleness 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-embraced despair,

And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy! O love,

Be moderate; allay thy ecstasy,

In measure rein thy joy; scant this excess.

I 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! Move those 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

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

In underprizing it, so far this shadow

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

The continent and summary of my fortune.

    Reads

    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;

    [kissses her]

PORTIA

You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,

Such as I am: yet, for you

I would be trebled twenty times myself;

A thousand times more fair, but the full sum of me

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

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 is 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;

Which when you part from, lose, or give away,

Let it presage the ruin of your love.

BASSANIO

Madam, you have bereft me of all words,

Only my blood speaks to you in my veins;

But when this ring

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;

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;

Your fortune stood upon the casket there,

And so did mine too, as the matter falls;

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

Achieved her mistress.

PORTIA

                          Is this true, Nerissa?

NERISSA

Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal.

BASSANIO

And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?

GRATIANO

Yes, faith, my lord.

BASSANIO

Our feast shall be much honour'd in your marriage.

GRATIANO

We'll play with them the first boy for a thousand ducats.

NERISSA

What, and stake down?

GRATIANO

No; we shall ne'er win at that sport, and stake down.

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.

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

Will show you his estate.

GRATIANO

Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome.

Your hand, Salerio: what's the news from Venice?

PORTIA

There are some shrewd contents in yon same paper,

That steals the colour from Bassanio's cheek:

Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world

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 anything

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;

And then I 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 engaged myself to a dear friend,

Engaged 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,

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. 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,

That he would rather have Antonio's flesh

Than twenty times the value of the sum

That he did owe him.

PORTIA

Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?

BASSANIO

The dearest friend to me, the kindest man.

PORTIA

What sum owes he the Jew?

BASSANIO

For me three thousand ducats.

PORTIA

What, no more? Pay him six thousand,

Double six thousand, and then treble that,

Before a friend of this description

Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault.

But let me hear the letter of your friend.

BASSANIO

[Reads] Sweet Bassanio, my ships have 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 but

see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your

pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come,

let not my letter.

PORTIA

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

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 meantime

Will live as maids and widows.

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,

No 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 lent out money gratis:
	Gaoler, look to him.

	ANTONIO
	Hear me yet, good Shylock.

	SHYLOCK
	I'll 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.

	ANTONIO
	I pray thee, hear me speak.

	SHYLOCK
	I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak:
	I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
	I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool,
	To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield
	To Christian intercessors. Follow not;
	I'll 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'll follow him no more with bootless prayers.
	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:
	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. Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house.

	Enter PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and BALTHASAR

	LORENZO
	Madam, 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,
	Nor shall not now: 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
	From out the state of hellish misery!
	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 breathed a secret vow
	To live in prayer and contemplation,
	Only attended by Nerissa here,
	Until her husband and my lord's return:
	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.
	And so farewell, till we shall meet again.

	LORENZO
	Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you!

	JESSICA
	I wish your ladyship all heart's content.

	PORTIA
	I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased
	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
	Into my cousin's hand, Doctor Bellario;
	And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee,
	Bring them, I pray thee, with imagined 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'll see our husbands
	Before they think of us.

	NERISSA
	Shall they see us?

	PORTIA
	They shall, Nerissa; but in such a habit,
	That they shall think we are accomplished
	With that we lack. I'll hold thee any wager,
	When we are both accoutred like young men,
	I'll 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,
	Which I denying, they fell sick and died;
	I could not do withal; then I'll repent,
	And wish for all that, that I had not killed 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
	A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks,
	Which I will practise.

	NERISSA
	Why, shall we turn to men?

	PORTIA
	Fie, what a question's that!
	But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device
	When I am in my coach, which stays for us
	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 ye, I fear you. There is but one hope
	in it that can do you any good; and that
	is but a kind of bastard hope neither.

	JESSICA
	And what hope is that, I pray thee?

	LAUNCELOT
	Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you
	not, that you are not the Jew's daughter.

	JESSICA
	That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed: so the
	sins of my mother should be visited upon me.

	LAUNCELOT
	Truly then I fear you are damned both by father and
	mother.

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

	LAUNCELOT
	Truly, the more to blame he: this making 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'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say: here he comes.

	LORENZO
	I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if
	you thus get my wife into corners.

	JESSICA
	Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo: Launcelot and I
	are out. He tells me flatly, there 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 Christians, you raise the
	price of pork.

	LORENZO
	I shall answer that better to the commonwealth than
	you can the getting up of the negro's belly: the
	Moor is with child by you, Launcelot.

	LAUNCELOT
	It is much that the Moor should be more than reason:
	but if she be less than an honest woman, she is
	indeed more than I took her for.

	LORENZO
	Go in, sirrah; bid them prepare for dinner.

	LAUNCELOT
	That is done, sir; they have all stomachs.

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

	LAUNCELOT
	For the table, sir, it shall be served in; for the
	meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in
	to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and
	conceits shall govern.

	Exit

	LORENZO
	How cheerest 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;

	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;
	' Then, howso'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things
	I shall digest it.

	JESSICA
	Well, I'll set you forth.

	Exeunt


	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 do oppose
	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 'tis thought
	Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange
	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
	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.

	SHYLOCK
	I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose;
	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.
	You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
	A weight of carrion flesh than to receive
	Three thousand ducats: I'll 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 pleased to give ten thousand ducats
	To have it baned? What, are you answer'd yet?
	Some men there are love not a gaping pig;
	Some, that are mad if they behold a cat;
	And others, when the bagpipe sings i' the nose,
	Cannot contain their urine: for affection,
	Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood
	Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer:
	As there is no firm reason to be render'd,
	Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
	Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
	Why he, a woollen bagpipe; but of force
	Must yield to such inevitable shame
	As to offend, himself being offended;
	So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
	More than a lodged 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.

	SHYLOCK
	I am not bound to please thee with my answers.

	BASSANIO
	Do all men kill the things they do not love?

	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
	To wag their high tops and to make no noise,
	When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven;
	You may as well do anything 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
	What judgment shall I dread, doing
	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 purchased slave,
	Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules,
	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
	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; 'tis 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,
	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 letter; call the messenger.

	BASSANIO
	Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage 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.

	[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 makest thy knife keen; but no metal can,
	No, not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness
	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, inexecrable dog!
	And for thy life let justice be accused.
	Thy currish spirit
	Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human slaughter,
	Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet,
	And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam,
	Infused 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
	A young and learned doctor to our court.
	Where is he?

	NERISSA
	He attendeth here hard by,
	To know your answer, whether you'll 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 controversy between
	the Jew and Antonio the merchant: we turned o'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 grace's
	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:
	And here, I take it, is the doctor come.

	[Enter PORTIA, dressed like a doctor of laws]

	Give me your hand. Come you from old Bellario?

	PORTIA
	I did, my lord.

	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 thoroughly 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;
	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:
	'Tis 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,
	It is an attribute to God himself;
	And earthly power doth then show likest God's
	When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
	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.

	SHYLOCK
	My deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
	The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

	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.

	PORTIA
	It must not be; there is no power in Venice
	Can alter a decree established:
	'Twill 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!
	O wise young judge, how I do honour thee!

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

	SHYLOCK
	Here 'tis, 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?
	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 tenor.
	It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
	You know the law, your exposition
	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
	To 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
	Hath full relation to the penalty,
	Which here appeareth due upon the bond.

	SHYLOCK
	'Tis very true: O wise and upright judge!
	How much more elder art thou than thy looks!

	PORTIA
	Therefore lay bare your bosom.

	SHYLOCK
	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,
	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?
	'Twere good you do so much for charity.

	SHYLOCK
	I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond.

	PORTIA
	You, merchant, have you any thing to say?

	ANTONIO
	But little: I am arm'd and well prepared.
	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
	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 loved you, speak me fair in death;
	And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge
	Whether Bassanio had not once a love.

	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.

	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
	'Tis well you offer it behind her back;
	The wish would make else an unquiet house.

	SHYLOCK
	These be the Christian husbands. I have a daughter;
	Would any of the stock of Barrabas
	Had been her husband rather than a Christian!
	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.

	SHYLOCK
	Most learned judge! A sentence! Come, prepare!

	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:'
	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: O learned judge!

	SHYLOCK
	Is that the law?

	PORTIA
	Thyself shalt see the act:
	For, as thou urgest justice, be assured
	Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest.

	GRATIANO
	O learned judge! Mark, Jew: a learned judge!

	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! no haste:
	He shall have nothing but the penalty.

	GRATIANO
	O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge!

	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 cut'st more
	Or less than a just pound, be it but so much
	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 you on the hip.

	PORTIA
	Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiture.

	SHYLOCK
	Give me my principal, and let me go.

	BASSANIO
	I have it ready for thee; here it is.

	PORTIA
	He hath refused 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!
	I'll stay no longer question.

	PORTIA
	Tarry, Jew:
	The law hath yet another hold on you.
	It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
	If it be proved 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;
	And the offender's life lies in the mercy
	Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
	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.

	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.

	SHYLOCK
	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.

	PORTIA
	What 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
	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;
	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.

	[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.

	[Exeunt Duke and his train]

	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:

	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.
	Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake;
	And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you:
	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.

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

	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 answer'd.

	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.
	An if your wife be not a mad-woman,
	And know how well I have deserved the ring,
	She would not hold out enemy for ever,
	For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!

	[Exeunt Portia and Nerissa]

	ANTONIO
	My Lord Bassanio, let him have the ring:
	Let his deservings and my love withal
	Be valued against your wife's commandment.

	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 will thither presently;
	And in the morning early will we both
	Fly toward Belmont: come, Antonio.

	[Exeunt]


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

	GRATIANO
	That will I do.

	NERISSA
	Sir, I would speak with you.

	[Aside to PORTIA]

	I'll see if I can get my husband's ring,
	Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.

	PORTIA
	[Aside to NERISSA] Thou mayst, I warrant.
	We shall have old swearing
	That they did give the rings away to men;
	But we'll outface them, and outswear them too.

	[Aloud]

	Away! make haste: thou knowist where I will tarry.

	NERISSA
	Come, good sir, will you show me to this house?

	Exeunt


	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 Troyan walls
	And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
	Where Cressid lay that night.

	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
	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 AEson.

	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 loved her well,
	Stealing her soul with many vows of faith
	And ne'er a true one.

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

	JESSICA
	I would out-night you, did no body come;
	But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

	[Enter STEPHANO]

	LORENZO
	Who comes so fast in silence of the night?

	STEPHANO
	A friend.

	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.
	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?

	LAUNCELOT
	Sola! did you see Master Lorenzo?
	Master 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.
	And yet no matter: why should we go in?
	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!
	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
	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:
	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,
	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.

	Enter PORTIA and NERISSA

	PORTIA
	That light we see is burning in my hall.
	How far that little candle throws his beams!
	So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
	Music! hark!

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

	PORTIA
	Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.

	NERISSA
	Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.

	PORTIA
	Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion
	And would not be awaked.

	[Music ceases.]

	LORENZO
	That is the voice,
	Or I am much deceived, of Portia.
	Dear lady, welcome home.

	PORTIA
	We have been praying for our husbands' healths,
	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;
	It looks a little paler: 'tis a day,
	Such as the day is when the sun is hid.

	[Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their followers]

	PORTIA
	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.

	GRATIANO
	[To NERISSA] 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.

	NERISSA
	You swore to me, when I did give it you,
	That you would wear it till your hour of death
	And that it should lie with you in your grave:

	GRATIANO
	Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,
	A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy,
	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.
	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
	Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth
	That the world masters.

	BASSANIO
	[Aside] Why, I were best to cut my left hand off
	And swear I lost the ring defending it.

	GRATIANO
	My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away
	Unto the judge that begg'd it and indeed
	Deserved it too; and then the boy, his clerk,
	That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine;
	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 received 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; it 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,
	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.
	Nerissa teaches me what to believe:
	I'll die for't 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
	And suffer'd him to go displeased away;
	Even he that did uphold the very life
	Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet 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.

	PORTIA
	Let not that doctor e'er come near my house:
	I will become as liberal as you;
	I'll not deny him any thing I have,
	No, not my body nor my husband's bed:
	I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.

	NERISSA
	And I his clerk; therefore be well advised
	How you do leave me to mine own protection.

	GRATIANO
	Well, do you so; let not me take him, then;
	For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

	ANTONIO
	I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels.

	PORTIA
	Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwithstanding.

	BASSANIO
	Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
	And, in the hearing of these many friends,
	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
	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
	I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio;
	For, by this ring, the doctor lay with me.

	NERISSA
	And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano;
	For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk,
	In lieu of this last night did lie with me.

	GRATIANO
	What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserved it?

	PORTIA
	Speak not so grossly. You are all amazed:
	Here is a letter; read it at your leisure;
	It comes from Padua, from Bellario:
	There you shall find that Portia was the doctor,
	Nerissa there her clerk: Lorenzo here
	Shall witness I set forth as soon as you
	And even but now return'd; I have not yet
	Enter'd my house. Antonio, you are welcome;
	And I have better news in store for you
	Than you expect: unseal this letter soon;
	There you shall find three of your argosies
	Are richly come to harbour suddenly:
	You shall not know by what strange accident
	I chanced on this letter.

	ANTONIO
	I am dumb.

	BASSANIO
	Were you the doctor and I knew you not?

	GRATIANO
	Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold?

	NERISSA
	Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it,
	Unless he live until he be a man.

	BASSANIO
	Sweet doctor, you shall be my bed-fellow:
	When I am absent, then lie with my wife.

	ANTONIO
	Sweet lady, you have given me life and living;
	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
	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
	Of these events at full. Let us go in;
	And charge us there upon inter'gatories,
	And we will answer all things faithfully.

	GRATIANO
	Let it be so: the first inter'gatory
	That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is,
	Whether till the next night she had rather stay,
	Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:
	But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
	That I were couching with the doctor's clerk.
	Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing
	So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.

	Exeunt