Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare
chain he had the impudence to wear. Antipholus of Syracuse lost his
temper, and drew his sword, and at that moment Adriana and several
others appeared. “Hold!” shouted the careful wife. “Hurt him not; he is
mad. Take his sword away. Bind him--and Dromio too.”
Dromio of Syracuse did not wish to be bound, and he said to his master,
“Run, master! Into that abbey, quick, or we shall be robbed!”
They accordingly retreated into the abbey.
Adriana, Luciana, and a crowd remained outside, and the Abbess came out,
and said, “People, why do you gather here?”
“To fetch my poor distracted husband,” replied Adriana.
Angelo and the merchant remarked that they had not known that he was
mad.
Adriana then told the Abbess rather too much about her wifely worries,
for the Abbess received the idea that Adriana was a shrew, and that
if her husband was distracted he had better not return to her for the
present.
Adriana determined, therefore, to complain to Duke Solinus, and, lo and
behold! a minute afterwards the great man appeared with officers and two
others. The others were AEgeon and the headsman. The thousand marks had
not been found, and AEgeon's fate seemed sealed.
Ere the Duke could pass the abbey Adriana knelt before him, and told a
woeful tale of a mad husband rushing about stealing jewelry and drawing
his sword, adding that the Abbess refused to allow her to lead him home.
The Duke bade the Abbess be summoned, and no sooner had he given the
order than a servant from The Phoenix ran to Adriana with the tale that
his master had singed off the doctor's beard.
“Nonsense!” said Adriana, “he's in the abbey.”
“As sure as I live I speak the truth,” said the servant.
Antipholus of Syracuse had not come out of the abbey, before his
brother of Ephesus prostrated himself in front of the Duke, exclaiming,
“Justice, most gracious Duke, against that woman.” He pointed to
Adriana. “She has treated another man like her husband in my own house.”
Even while he was speaking AEgeon said, “Unless I am delirious, I see my
son Antipholus.”
No one noticed him, and Antipholus of Ephesus went on to say how the
doctor, whom he called “a threadbare juggler,” had been one of a gang
who tied him to his slave Dromio, and thrust them into a vault whence he
had escaped by gnawing through his bonds.
The Duke could not understand how the same man who spoke to him was
seen to go into the abbey, and he was still wondering when AEgeon asked
Antipholus of Ephesus if he was not his son. He replied, “I never saw
my father in my life;” but so deceived was AEgeon by his likeness to
the brother whom he had brought up, that he said, “Thou art ashamed to
acknowledge me in misery.”
Soon, however, the Abbess advanced with Antipholus of Syracuse and
Dromio of Syracuse.
Then cried Adriana, “I see two husbands or mine eyes deceive me;” and
Antipholus, espying his father, said, “Thou art AEgeon or his ghost.”
It was a day of surprises, for the Abbess said, “I will free that man by
paying his fine, and gain my husband whom I lost. Speak, AEgeon, for I
am thy wife AEmilia.”
The Duke was touched. “He is free without a fine,” he said.
So AEgeon and AEmilia were reunited, and Adriana and her husband
reconciled; but no one was happier than Antipholus of Syracuse, who, in
the Duke's presence, went to Luciana and said, “I told you I loved you.
Will you be my wife?”
Her answer was given by a look, and therefore is not written.
The two Dromios were glad to think they would receive no more beatings.
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
Antonio was a rich and prosperous merchant of Venice. His ships were
on nearly every sea, and he traded with Portugal, with Mexico, with
England, and with India. Although proud of his riches, he was very
generous with them, and delighted to use them in relieving the wants of
his friends, among whom his relation, Bassanio, held the first place.
Now Bassanio, like many another gay and gallant gentleman, was reckless
and extravagant, and finding that he had not only come to the end of his
fortune, but was also unable to pay his creditors, he went to Antonio
for further help.
“To you, Antonio,” he said, “I owe the most in money and in love: and I
have thought of a plan to pay everything I owe if you will but help me.”
“Say what I can do, and it shall be done,” answered his friend.
Then said Bassanio, “In Belmont is a lady richly left, and from all
quarters of the globe renowned suitors come to woo her, not only because
she is rich, but because she is beautiful and good as well. She looked
on me with such favor when last we met, that I feel sure that I should
win her away from all rivals for her love had I but the means to go to
Belmont, where she lives.”
“All my fortunes,” said Antonio, “are at sea, and so I have no ready
money; but luckily my credit is good in Venice, and I will borrow for
you what you need.”
There was living in Venice at this time a rich money-lender, named
Shylock. Antonio despised and disliked this man very much, and treated
him with the greatest harshness and scorn. He would thrust him, like a
cur, over his threshold, and would even spit on him. Shylock submitted
to all these indignities with a patient shrug; but deep in his heart he
cherished a desire for revenge on the rich, smug merchant. For Antonio
both hurt his pride and injured his business. “But for him,” thought
Shylock, “I should be richer by half a million ducats. On the market
place, and wherever he can, he denounces the rate of interest I charge,
and--worse than that--he lends out money freely.”
So when Bassanio came to him to ask for a loan of three thousand ducats
to Antonio for three months, Shylock hid his hatred, and turning to
Antonio, said--“Harshly as you have treated me, I would be friends with
you and have your love. So I will lend you the money and charge you no
interest. But, just for fun, you shall sign a bond in which it shall be
agreed that if you do not repay me in three months' time, then I shall
have the right to a pound of your flesh, to be cut from what part of
your body I choose.”
“No,” cried Bassanio to his friend, “you shall run no such risk for me.”
“Why, fear not,” said Antonio, “my ships will be home a month before the
time. I will sign the bond.”
Thus Bassanio was furnished with the means to go to Belmont, there to
woo the lovely Portia. The very night he started, the money-lender's
pretty daughter, Jessica, ran away from her father's house with her
lover, and she took with her from her father's hoards some bags of
ducats and precious stones. Shylock's grief and anger were terrible to
see. His love for her changed to hate. “I would she were dead at my
feet and the jewels in her ear,” he cried. His only comfort now was in
hearing of the serious losses which had befallen Antonio, some of whose
ships were wrecked. “Let him look to his bond,” said Shylock, “let him
look to his bond.”
Meanwhile Bassanio had reached Belmont, and had visited the fair Portia.
He found, as he had told Antonio, that the rumor of her wealth and
beauty had drawn to her suitors from far and near. But to all of them
Portia had but one reply. She would only accept that suitor who would
pledge himself to abide by the terms of her father's will. These were
conditions that frightened away many an ardent wooer. For he who would
win Portia's heart and hand, had to guess which of three caskets held
her portrait. If he guessed aright, then Portia would be his bride; if
wrong, then he was bound by oath never to reveal which casket he chose,
never to marry, and to go away at once.
The caskets were of gold, silver, and lead. The gold one bore this
inscription:--“Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire;”
the silver one had this:--“Who chooseth me shall get as much as he
deserves;” while on the lead one were these words:--“Who chooseth me
must give and hazard all he hath.” The Prince of Morocco, as brave as he
was black, was among the first to submit to this test. He chose the
gold casket, for he said neither base lead nor silver could contain her
picture. So be chose the gold casket, and found inside the likeness of
what many men desire--death.
After him came the haughty Prince of Arragon, and saying, “Let me have
what I deserve--surely I deserve the lady,” he chose the silver one, and
found inside a fool's head. “Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?”
he cried.
Then at last came Bassanio, and Portia would have delayed him from
making his choice from very fear of his choosing wrong. For she loved
him dearly, even as he loved her. “But,” said Bassanio, “let me choose at
once, for, as I am, I live upon the rack.”
Then Portia bade her servants to bring music and play while her gallant
lover made his choice. And Bassanio took the oath and walked up to the
caskets--the musicians playing softly the while. “Mere outward show,” he
said, “is to be despised. The world is still deceived with ornament, and
so no gaudy gold or shining silver for me. I choose the lead casket;
joy be the consequence!” And opening it, he found fair Portia's portrait
inside, and he turned to her and asked if it were true that she was his.
“Yes,” said Portia, “I am yours, and this house is yours, and with them
I give you this ring, from which you must never part.”
And Bassanio, saying that he could hardly speak for joy, found words to
swear that he would never part with the ring while he lived.
Then suddenly all his happiness was dashed with sorrow, for messengers
came from Venice to tell him that Antonio was ruined, and that Shylock
demanded from the Duke the fulfilment of the bond, under which he was
entitled to a pound of the merchant's flesh. Portia was as grieved as
Bassanio to hear of the danger which threatened his friend.
“First,” she said, “take me to church and make me your wife, and then
go to Venice at once to help your friend. You shall take with you money
enough to pay his debt twenty times over.”
But when her newly-made husband had gone, Portia went after him, and
arrived in Venice disguised as a lawyer, and with an introduction from
a celebrated lawyer Bellario, whom the Duke of Venice had called in
to decide the legal questions raised by Shylock's claim to a pound of
Antonio's flesh. When the Court met, Bassanio offered Shylock twice the
money borrowed, if he would withdraw his claim. But the money-lender's
only answer was--
“If every ducat in six thousand ducats,
Were in six parts, and every part a ducat,
I would not draw them,--I would have my bond.”
It was then that Portia arrived in her disguise, and not even her own
husband knew her. The Duke gave her welcome on account of the great
Bellario's introduction, and left the settlement of the case to her.
Then in noble words she bade Shylock have mercy. But he was deaf to her
entreaties. “I will have the pound of flesh,” was his reply.
“What have you to say?” asked Portia of the merchant.
“But little,” he answered; “I am armed and well prepared.”
“The Court awards you a pound of Antonio's flesh,” said Portia to the
money-lender.
“Most righteous judge!” cried Shylock. “A sentence: come, prepare.”
“Tarry a little. This bond gives you no right to Antonio's blood, only
to his flesh. If, then, you spill a drop of his blood, all your property
will be forfeited to the State. Such is the Law.”
And Shylock, in his fear, said, “Then I will take Bassanio's offer.”
“No,” said Portia sternly, “you shall have nothing but your bond. Take
your pound of flesh, but remember, that if you take more or less, even
by the weight of a hair, you will lose your property and your life.”
Shylock now grew very much frightened. “Give me my three thousand ducats
that I lent him, and let him go.”