The Merchant of Venice Read online

  To keep obligèd8 faith unforfeited!

  GRATIANO That ever9 holds: who riseth from a feast

  With that10 keen appetite that he sits down?

  Where is the horse that doth untread11 again

  His tedious measures12 with the unbated fire

  That he did pace them first? All things that are,

  Are with more spirit chasèd than enjoyed.

  How like a younger15 or a prodigal

  The scarfèd bark16 puts from her native bay,

  Hugged and embracèd by the strumpet17 wind!

  How like a prodigal doth she return,

  With over-withered ribs19 and ragged sails,

  Lean, rent20 and beggared by the strumpet wind!

  Enter Lorenzo

  SALERIO Here comes Lorenzo. More of this hereafter.

  LORENZO Sweet friends, your22 patience for my long abode:

  Not I but my affairs have made you wait.

  When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,

  I’ll watch25 as long for you then. Approach.

  Here dwells my father26 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 tongue28.

  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 exchange36.

  But love is blind and lovers cannot see

  The pretty38 follies that themselves commit,

  For if they could, Cupid39 himself would blush

  To see me thus transformèd to a boy.

  LORENZO Descend, for you must be my torchbearer.

  JESSICA What, must I hold a candle to42 my shames?

  They in themselves, good sooth43, are too too light.

  Why, ’tis an office of discovery44, love,

  And I should be obscured.

  LORENZO So you are, sweet,

  Even in the lovely garnish47 of a boy.

  But come at once,

  For the close49 night doth play the runaway,

  And we are stayed for50 at Bassanio’s feast.

  JESSICA I will make fast51 the doors and gild myself

  With some more ducats, and be with you straight.

  [Exit above]

  GRATIANO Now, by my hood, a gentle53 and no Jew.

  LORENZO Beshrew54 me but I love her heartily.

  For she is wise, if I can judge of her,

  And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true56,

  And true57 she is, as she hath proved herself,

  And therefore, like herself, wise, fair and true,

  Shall she be placèd in my constant soul.

  Enter Jessica [below]

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

  Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.

  Exit [with Jessica and Salerio]

  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 stay65 for you.

  No masque tonight, the wind is come about66.

  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 tonight.

  Exeunt

  [Act 2 Scene 7]

  running scene 10

  Location: Belmont

  [Flourish of cornets.] Enter Portia with [the Prince of] Morocco and both their trains

  PORTIA Go, draw aside the curtains and discover1

  The several2 caskets to this noble prince.

  Now make your choice.

  The curtains are opened

  MOROCCO The first, of gold, who4 this inscription bears:

  ‘Who5 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, dull8 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 withal12.

  MOROCCO Some god direct my judgement! Let me see.

  I will survey the inscriptions back14 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 dross20,

  I’ll then nor21 give nor hazard aught for lead.

  What says the silver with her virgin hue22?

  ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.’

  As much as he deserves; pause there, Morocco,

  And weigh25 thy value with an even hand:

  If thou be’st rated26 by thy estimation,

  Thou dost deserve enough, and yet enough

  May not extend so far as to the lady.

  And yet to be afeard of my deserving

  Were but a weak disabling30 of myself.

  As much as I deserve? Why, that’s the lady.

  I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,

  In graces and in qualities of breeding,

  But more than these, in love I do deserve.

  What if I strayed no further, but chose here?

  Let’s see once more this saying graved36 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 breathing40 saint.

  The Hyrcanian deserts41 and the vasty wilds

  Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now

  For princes to come view fair Portia.

  The watery kingdom44, whose ambitious head

  Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar

  To stop the foreign spirits46, but they come,

  As o’er a brook, to see fair Portia.

  One of these three contains her heavenly picture.

  Is’t like49 that lead contains her? ’Twere damnation

  To think so base50 a thought, it were too gross

  To rib51 her cerecloth in the obscure grave.

  Or shall I think in silver she’s immured52,

  Being ten times undervalued to53 trièd gold?

  O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem

  Was set55 in worse than gold! They have in England

  A coin that bears the figure of an angel56

  Stamped in gold, but that’s insculped57 upon,

  But here an angel in a golden bed

  Lies all within. Deliver me the key:

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

  PORTIA There, take it, prince, and if my form61 lie there,

  Then I am yours.

  He unlocks the gold casket

  MOROCCO O hell! What have we here?

  A carrion64 Death, within whose empty eye

  There is a written scroll; I’ll read the writing.

  ‘All that glisters is not gold,

  Reads

  Often have you heard that told;

  Many a man his life hath sold

  But69 my outside to behold.

  Gilded tombs do worms enfold.


  Had you been as wise as bold,

  Young in limbs, in judgement old72,

  Your answer had not been inscrolled73:

  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 tedious78 leave. Thus losers part.

  Exit [with his train. Flourish of cornets]

  PORTIA A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go.

  Let all of his complexion80 choose me so.

  [They close the curtains and] exeunt

  [Act 2 Scene 8]

  running scene 11

  Location: Venice

  Enter Salerio and Solanio

  SALERIO Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail.

  With him is Gratiano gone along;

  And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.

  SOLANIO The villain Jew with outcries raised4 the duke,

  Who went with him to search Bassanio’s ship.

  SALERIO He comes too late, the ship was under sail;

  But there the duke was given to understand

  That in a gondola were seen together

  Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica. Besides,

  Antonio certified the duke

  They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

  SOLANIO I never heard a passion12 so confused,

  So strange, outrageous13, 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 sealèd bag, two sealèd bags of ducats,

  Of double ducats19, stol’n from me by my daughter!

  And jewels, two stones20, two rich and precious stones,

  Stol’n by my daughter! Justice! Find the girl,

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

  SALERIO Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,

  Crying, his stones24, his daughter, and his ducats.

  SOLANIO Let good Antonio look25 he keep his day,

  Or he shall pay for this.

  SALERIO Marry, well remembered.

  I reasoned28 with a Frenchman yesterday,

  Who told me, in the narrow seas that part

  The French and English29 there miscarried30

  A vessel of our country richly fraught31.

  I thought upon32 Antonio when he told me,

  And wished in silence that it were not his.

  SOLANIO You were best to tell Antonio what you hear;

  Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

  SALERIO 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 answered, ‘Do not so,

  Slubber40 not business for my sake, Bassanio,

  But stay41 the very riping of the time.

  And for42 the Jew’s bond which he hath of me,

  Let it not enter in your mind of43 love.

  Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts

  To courtship and such fair ostents45 of love

  As shall conveniently become you46 there.’

  And even there47, his eye being big with tears,

  Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,

  And with affection wondrous sensible49

  He wrung Bassanio’s hand, and so they parted.

  SOLANIO I think he only loves the world for him51.

  I pray thee let us go and find him out,

  And quicken53 his embracèd heaviness

  With some delight or other.

  SALERIO Do we so.

  Exeunt

  [Act 2 Scene 9]

  running scene 12

  Location: Belmont

  Enter Nerissa and a Servitor

  NERISSA Quick, quick, I pray thee draw the curtain

  straight1.

  The Servitor opens the curtains

  The Prince of Aragon2 hath ta’en his oath,

  And comes to his election3 presently.

  Enter [the Prince of] Aragon, his train and Portia. Flourish of cornets

  PORTIA Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince.

  If you choose that wherein I am contained,

  Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized.

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

  You must be gone from hence immediately.

  ARAGON I am enjoined9 by oath to observe three things:

  First, never to unfold10 to anyone

  Which casket ’twas I chose; next, if I fail

  Of12 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 everyone doth swear

  That comes to hazard for my worthless self.

  ARAGON And so have I addressed me18. 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

  By25 the fool multitude that choose by show,

  Not learning more than the fond26 eye doth teach,

  Which pries27 not to th’interior, but like the martlet

  Builds in28 the weather on the outward wall,

  Even in the force29 and road of casualty.

  I will not choose what many men desire,

  Because I will not jump31 with common spirits

  And rank me with the barb’rous multitudes.

  Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house.

  Tell me once more what title thou dost bear:

  ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.’

  And well said too, for who shall go about

  To cozen37 fortune and be honourable

  Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume

  To wear an undeservèd dignity.

  O, that estates, degrees40 and offices

  Were not derived corruptly, and that clear41 honour

  Were purchased42 by the merit of the wearer!

  How many then should cover that stand bare43!

  How many be commanded that command!

  How much low peasantry would then be gleaned45

  From the true seed46 of honour! And how much honour

  Picked from the chaff and ruin of the times

  To be new-varnished48! Well, but to my choice:

  ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.’

  I will assume desert50; 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.

  Aside?

  ARAGON What’s here? The portrait of a blinking idiot

  Presenting me a schedule54! I will read it.

  How much unlike art thou to Portia.

  How much unlike my hopes and my deservings.

  ‘Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves.’

  Did I deserve no more than a fool’s head?

  Is that my prize? Are my deserts no better?

  PORTIA To offend and judge are distinct offices

  And of opposèd natures60.

  ARAGON What is here?

  ‘The fire seven times tried this63:

  Reads

  Seven times tried that judgement64 is

  That did never choose amiss65.

  Some there be that shadows66 kiss,

  Such have but a shadow’s bliss. />
  There be fools alive, iwis68,

  Silvered o’er69, and so was this.

  Take what wife you will to bed,

  I71 will ever be your head.

  So begone: you are sped72.’

  Still more fool I shall appear

  By the time74 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 wroth78.

  [Exeunt Aragon and train]

  PORTIA Thus hath the candle singed the moth.

  O, these deliberate80 fools! When they do choose,

  They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.

  NERISSA The ancient saying is no heresy:

  Hanging and wiving83 goes by destiny.

  PORTIA Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.

  Nerissa closes the curtains

  Enter Messenger

  MESSENGER Where is my lady?

  PORTIA Here, what would my lord86?

  MESSENGER Madam, there is alighted at your gate

  A young Venetian, one that comes before

  To signify th’approaching of his lord,

  From whom he bringeth sensible regreets90:

  To wit91, besides commends and courteous breath,

  Gifts of rich value; yet92 I have not seen

  So likely an ambassador of love.

  A day in April never came so sweet

  To show how costly95 summer was at hand,

  As this fore-spurrer96 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-day99 wit in praising him.

  Come, come, Nerissa, for I long to see

  Quick Cupid’s post101 that comes so mannerly.

  NERISSA Bassanio, Lord Love, if thy will it be!

  Exeunt

  Act 3 [Scene 1]

  running scene 13

  Location: Venice

  Enter Solanio and Salerio

  SOLANIO Now, what news on the Rialto?

  SALERIO Why, yet it lives there unchecked2 that Antonio hath

  a ship of rich lading3 wrecked on the narrow seas; the

  Goodwins4, I think they call the place, a very dangerous flat

  and fatal, where the carcasses of many a tall5 ship lie buried,

  as they say, if my gossip6’s report be an honest woman of her

  word.

  SOLANIO I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever

  knapped9 ginger or made her neighbours believe she wept for

  the death of a third husband. But it is true, without any slips

  of prolixity10 or crossing11 the plain highway of talk, that the