The Merchant of Venice
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;
For I am sure you can wish none from me.
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.
You lov’d, I lov’d; for intermission
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
Your fortune stood upon the caskets there,
And so did mine too, as the matter falls.
For wooing here until I sweat again,
And swearing till my very roof was dry
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
Achiev’d her mistress.
PORTIA.
Is this true, Nerissa?
NERISSA.
Madam, it is, so you stand pleas’d withal.
BASSANIO.
And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
GRATIANO.
Yes, faith, my lord.
BASSANIO.
Our feast shall be much honoured 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.
BASSANIO.
Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither,
If that the youth of my new int’rest 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.
[_Bassanio opens the letter._]
GRATIANO.
Nerissa, cheer yond stranger, bid her welcome.
Your hand, Salerio. What’s the news from Venice?
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?
I know he will be glad of our success.
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.
SALERIO.
I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.
PORTIA.
There are some shrewd contents in yond 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 engag’d myself to a dear friend,
Engag’d 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?
Hath 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. Never did I know
A creature that did bear the shape of man
So keen and greedy to confound a man.
He plies the Duke at morning and at night,
And doth impeach the freedom of the state
If they deny him justice. 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. And I know, my lord,
If law, authority, and power deny not,
It will go hard with poor Antonio.
PORTIA.
Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?
BASSANIO.
The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
The best condition’d and unwearied spirit
In doing courtesies, and one in whom
The ancient Roman honour more appears
Than any that draws breath in Italy.
PORTIA.
What sum owes he the Jew?
BASSANIO.
For me three thousand ducats.
PORTIA.
What, no more?
Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond.
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description
Shall lose a hair through Bassanio’s fault.
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. Come, away!
For you shall hence upon your wedding day.
Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer;
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.
But let me hear the letter of your friend.
BASSANIO.
_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 clear’d
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.
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,
Nor 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. I do wonder,
Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond
To come abroad with him at his request.
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,
For the commodity that strangers have
With us in Venice, if it be denied,
’Twill much impeach the justice of the state,
Since that the trade and profit of the city
Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go.
These griefs and losses have so bated me
That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh
Tomorrow 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 Balthazar.
LORENZO.
Madam, although I speak it in your presence,
You have a noble and a true conceit
Of godlike amity, which appears most strongly
In bearing thus the absence of your lord.
But 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; for in companions
That do converse and waste the time together,
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love,
There must be needs a like proportion
Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit;
Which makes me think that 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 bestowed
In purchasing the semblance of my soul
From out the state of hellish cruelty!
This comes too near the praising of myself;
Therefore no more of it. Hear other things.
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 breath’d 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 we will 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.
So fare you well 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 pleas’d
To wish it back on you. Fare you well, Jessica.
[_Exeunt Jessica and Lorenzo._]
Now, Balthazar,
As I have ever found thee honest-true,
So let me find thee still. Take this same letter,
And use thou all th’ endeavour of a man
In speed to Padua, see thou render this
Into my cousin’s hands, Doctor Bellario;
And look what notes and garments he doth give thee,
Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin’d speed
Unto the traject, to the common ferry
Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words,
But get thee gone. I shall be there before thee.
BALTHAZAR.
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 accoutered 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 kill’d them.
And twenty of these puny lies I’ll tell,
That men shall swear I have discontinued school
About 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,
If thou wert near a lewd interpreter!
But come, I’ll tell thee all my whole device