The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 344

ACT III. SCENE I.

Venice. A street

Enter SOLANIO and SALERIO

SOLANIO. Now, what news on the Rialto?

SALERIO. Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd that Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow seas; the Goodwins I think they call the place, a very dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcases of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.

SOLANIO. I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever knapp'd ginger or made her neighbours believe she wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true, without any slips of prolixity or crossing the plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio, the honest Antonio- O that I had a t.i.tle good enough to keep his name company!- SALERIO. Come, the full stop.

SOLANIO. Ha! What sayest thou? Why, the end is, he hath lost a ship.

SALERIO. I would it might prove the end of his losses.

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

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

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

SHYLOCK. She is d.a.m.n'd for it.

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

SHYLOCK. My own flesh and blood to rebel!

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

SHYLOCK. I say my daughter is my flesh and my blood.

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

SHYLOCK. There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto; a beggar, that was us'd to come so smug upon the mart. Let him look to his bond. He was wont to call me usurer; let him look to his bond. He was wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy; let him look to his bond.

SALERIO. 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 disgrac'd me and hind'red me half a million; laugh'd at my losses, mock'd 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, pa.s.sions, 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 p.r.i.c.k 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 itshall go hard but I will better the instruction.

Enter a MAN from ANTONIO

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

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

Enter TUBAL

SOLANIO. Here comes another of the tribe; a third cannot be match'd, unless the devil himself turn Jew.

Exeunt SOLANIO, SALERIO, and MAN 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 hears'd 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 o' my shoulders; no sighs but o' my breathing; no tears but o' 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 G.o.d, I thank G.o.d. Is it true, is it 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!- heard in Genoa.

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

SHYLOCK. Thou stick'st 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, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue; go, good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal. Exeunt

SCENE II.

Belmont. PORTIA'S house

Enter Ba.s.sANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and all their trains

PORTIA. I pray you tarry; pause a day or two Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong, I lose your company; therefore forbear a while.

There's something tells me- but it is not love- I would not lose you; and you know yourself Hate counsels not in such a quality.

But lest you should not understand me well- And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought- I would detain you here some month or two Before you venture for me. I could teach you How to choose right, but then I am forsworn; So will I never be; so may you miss me; But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin, That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes!

They have o'erlook'd me and divided me; One half of me is yours, the other half yours- Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours. O! these naughty times Puts bars between the owners and their rights; And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so, Let fortune go to h.e.l.l for it, not I.

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.

Ba.s.sANIO. Let me choose; For as I am, I live upon the rack.

PORTIA. Upon the rack, Ba.s.sanio? Then confess What treason there is mingled with your love.

Ba.s.sANIO. None but that ugly treason of mistrust Which makes me fear th' enjoying of my love; There may as well be amity and life 'Tween snow and fire as treason and my love.

PORTIA. Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack, Where men enforced do speak anything.

Ba.s.sANIO. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.

PORTIA. Well then, confess and live.

Ba.s.sANIO. 'Confess' and 'love'

Had been the very sum of my confession.

O happy torment, when my torturer Doth teach me answers for deliverance!

But let me to my fortune and the caskets.

PORTIA. Away, then; I am lock'd in one of them.

If you do love me, you will find me out.

Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof; Let music sound while he doth make his choice; Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end, Fading in music. That the comparison May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream And wat'ry death-bed for him. He may win; And what is music then? Then music is Even as the flourish when true subjects bow To a new-crowned monarch; such it is As are those dulcet sounds in break of day That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear And summon him to marriage. Now he goes, With no less presence, but with much more love, Than young Alcides when he did redeem The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy To the sea-monster. I stand for sacrifice; The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives, With bleared visages come forth to view The issue of th' exploit. Go, Hercules!

Live thou, I live. With much much more dismay I view the fight than thou that mak'st the fray.

A SONG

the whilst Ba.s.sANIO comments on the caskets to himself

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

Reply, reply.

It is engend'red 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.

Ba.s.sANIO. So may the outward shows be least themselves; The world is still deceiv'd with ornament.

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

There is no vice so simple but a.s.sumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.