SCENE II. Venice. A Street. Enter Launcelot Gobbo. Laun. 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 ran; 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; bulge 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 incarnation; 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: 1 will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment, I will run. Enter old Gobbo, with a Basket. Gob. Master, young man, you, I pray you; which is the way to master Jew's? Laun. O heavens, this is my true-begotten father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel-blind, knows me not:-I will try conclusions with him. [Aside. Gob. Master, young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's ? Laun. 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. Gob. 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? Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipp'd might he be! what a beard hast thou got thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin, my thill-horse, has on his tail. grows backward; I am sure he had more hair on his tail, than I have on my face, when I last saw him. and thy master agree? I have brought him a present; Gob. Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou How agree you now? Laun. It should seem then, that Dobbin's tail set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I Enter Bassanio, with Leonardo, and other supper be ready at the furthest by five of the clock: ing. Laun. To him, father. Gob. God bless your worship! Bass. Gramercy; Would'st thou aught with me? Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and I have a desire, as my father shall specify,Gob. His master and he (saving your worship's re verence,) are scarce cater-cousins: Laun. 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, Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would bestow upon your worship; and my suit is, Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as your worship shall know by this honest old and, though I say it, though old man, yet, poor man, my father. Laun. Talk you of young master Launcelot?-man; Gob. 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. Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young master Launcelot. Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir. Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you; Talk you of young master Launcelot? Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. Laun. 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. Gob. Marry, God forbid the boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop. Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a staff, or a prop?-Do you know me, father? Gob. 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? Laun. Do you not know me, father? Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind, I know you not. Laun. 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, in the end, truth will out. Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up; I am sure, you are not Launcelot, my boy. Laun. 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. Gob. I cannot think you are my son. Laun. 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. Bass. One speak for both ;-What would you? Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, sir. Laun. 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. Bass. Thou speak'st it well; Go, father, with thy Laun. Father, in:-I cannot get a service, no ;-I have ne'er a tongue in my head.-Well; Looking on his Palm] if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon a book.-I shall have good fortune; Go to, here's a simple line of life! here's a small trifle of wives: Alas, fifteen wives is nothing; eleven widows, and nine maids, is a simple coming-in for one man and then, to 'scape drowning thrice; and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed;-here are simple 'scapes! 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. Gra. Where is your master? Gra. I have a suit to you. Like one well-studied in a sad ostent Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not gage me By what we do to-night. Bass. No, that were pity; I would entreat you rather to put on Gra. And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest; But we will visit you at supper-time. SCENE III. [Exeunt. The same. A Room in Shylock's House. Jes. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so; Laun. Adieu!-tears exhibit my tongue.-Most beautiful pagan,-most sweet Jew! If a Christian do not play the knave, and get thee, I am much deceived: But, adieu! these foolish drops do somewhat drown my manly spirit; adieu ! Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot.- [Exit. [Exit. SCENE IV. The same. A Street. Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Salanio. Lor. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time; Disguise us at my lodging, and return All in an hour. Gra. We have not made good preparation. Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. Salan. "Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd ; And better, in my mind, not undertook. Lor. "Tis now but four o'clock; we have two hours To furnish us : Enter Launcelot, with a Letter. Friend Launcelot, what's the news? Laun. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify. Lor. I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand; And whiter than the paper it writ on, Is the fair hand that writ. Love-news, in faith. Gra. Laun. By your leave, sir. Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to Salar. 'Tis good we do so. [Exeunt Salar. and Salan. Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica? Lor. 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. If e'er the Jew, her father, come to heaven, It will be for his gentle daughter's sake: And never dare misfortune cross her foot, Unless she do it under this excuse, That she is issue to a faithless Jew. 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. Shy. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:What, Jessica !-thou shalt not gormandize, As thou hast done with me ;-What, Jessica !→→ And sleep, and snore, and rend apparel out;Why, Jessica, I say! Laun. Why, Jessica ! Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, I could do nothing without bidding. Enter Jessica. Jes. Call you? What is your will? Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica; There are my keys :-But wherefore should I go? Laun. I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach. Shy. So do I his. Laun. And 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. Shy. What are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica : Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, else. Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder, Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day More than the wild cat; drones hive not with me; Therefore I part with him; and part with him To one that I would have him help to waste His borrow'd purse.-Well, Jessica, go in; Perhaps, I will return immediately; Do, as I bid you, Shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find; [Exit. [Exit. SCENE VI. The same. Enter Gratiano and Salarino, masked. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Desir'd us to make stand. Salar. His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont, To keep obliged faith unforfeited. Gra. That ever holds: Who riseth from a feast, Do it in hope of fair advantages: With that keen appetite that he sits down? Salar. Here comes Lorenzo;--more of this hereafter. Lor. Sweet friends, your patieuce for my long Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait; [abode; When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, I'll watch as long for you then.-Approach; Here dwells my father Jew:-Ho! who's within? Enter Jessica above, in Boy's Clothes. Jes. Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty, Albeit l'il swear that I do know your tongue. Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love. Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed; For who love I so much? And now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? [thou art. Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much asham'd of my exchange. But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit; For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy. Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light, Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love; And I should be obscur'd. Lor. So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. But come at once; For the close night doth play the run-away, Ant. 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. Gra. 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 both their Trains. Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince: Now make your choice. Mor. 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 it I do choose the right? Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince; If you choose that, then I am yours withal. Mor. 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, A golden mine stoops not to shows of dross; If thou be'st rated by thy estimation, What if I stray'd no further, but chose here ?- Lies all within.-Deliver me the key; Mor. Por. There, take it, prince, and if my form lie there, Then I am yours. He unlocks the golden Casket. O hell what have we here? A carrion death, within whose empty eye There is a written scroll! I'll read the writing. All that glisters is not gold, Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold, But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms infold. Had you been as wise as bold, Young in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been inscrol'd: Fare you well; your suit is cold. Cold, indeed; and labour lost: Then, farewell, heat; and welcome, frost.Portia, adien! I have too, griev'd a heart To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. Por. 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. [Exit. Salar. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail; And in their ship, I am sure, Lorenzo is not. Besides, Antonio certify'd the duke, Salar. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats, Salan. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, Or he shall pay for this. Salar. 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. Salan. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear; Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him. Salar. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. I saw Bassanio and Antonio part: Bassanio told him, he would make some speed And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me, He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted. Salar. Do we so. [Exeunt. SCENE IX. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Enter Nerissa, with a Servant. Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain The prince of Arragon has ta'en his oath, [straight; And comes to his election presently. Flourish of Cornets. Enter the Prince of Arragon, Portia, and their Trains. Por. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince: If you choose that wherein I am contain'd, Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd; But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, You must be gone from hence immediately. Arra. 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 To woo a maid in way of marriage; lastly, If I do fail in fortune of my choice, Por. To these injunctions every one doth swear, That comes to hazard for my worthless self. Arra. 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, Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach; Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet, Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Even in the force and road of casualty. I will not choose what many men desire, Because I will not jump with common spirits; And rank me with the barbarous 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 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 deriv'd corruptly! and that clear honour Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there. Arra. What's here? the portrait of a blinking idiot, Presenting me a schedule? I will read it. How much unlike art thou to Portia ? Arra. What is here ? Some there be, that shadows kiss; With one fool's head I came to woo, But I go away with two. Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath, [Exeunt Arragon, and Train. Serv. Where is my lady? Por. Here; what would my lord? A day in April never came so sweet, Thou wilt say anon, he is some kin to thee. ACT III. SCENE I. Venice. A Street. Enter Salanio and Salarino. Salan. Now, what news on the Rialto? Salar. Why, yet he 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 carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip report be an honest woman of her word. Salan. 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 title good. enough to keep his name company! Salar. Come, the full stop. Salan. Ha, what say'st thou? Why the end is, he hath lost a ship. Salar. I would it might prove the end of bis losses! Salan. Let me say amen hetimes, 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? Shy. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my daughter's flight. Salar. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the tailor that made the wings she flew withal. Salan. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledg'd; and then it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam. Shy. She is damn'd for it. Salar. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge. years ? Shy. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. Salar. 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 I have had any loss at sea or no? Shy. There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dares scarce show his head on the Rialto;-a beggar, that used 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. Salar. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flesh; What's that good for? Shy. To bait fish withal: if it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hindered me of 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 villany you teach me, I will execute and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction. Enter a Servant. Serv. Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his Salan. Here comes another of the tribe; a third Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her. Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true; Go, Tubal, fee me an officer, bespeak him a fortnight before: 1 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 The Caskets are set out. Attendants. I speak too long; but 'tis to peize the time; Bass. Let me choose; Bass. None, but that ugly treason of mistrust, Por. Ay, but, I fear, you speak upon the rack, Confess, and love, Shy. Why there, there, there, there! a diamond Tub. Yes, other men have ill luck too; Antonio, as I heard in Genoa, Shy. What, what, what? ill luck, ill fuck? Shy. I thank God, I thank God:--Is it true? is it true Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck. Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal ;-Good news, good news ha ha!-Where? in Genoa? Tub. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night, fourscore ducats. Shy. Thou stick'st a dagger in me :-I shall never see my gold again: Fourscore ducats at a sitting! fourscore ducats! Tub. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose. but break. Shy. I am very glad of it: I'll plague him; Pli torture him; I am glad of it. Tub. One of them showed me a ring, that he had of your daughter for a monkey. Shy. Out upon her! Thon torturest me, Tabal: it was my turquoise; I had it of Leah, when I was To a new-crowned monarch: such it is, 1. Tell me, where is fancy bred, Reply. 2. It is engender'd in the eyes, All. Bass. So may the outward shows be least them a bachelor: I would not have given it for a wilder-The world is still deceiv'd with ornament. [selves; ness of monkeys. Tub. But Antonio is certainly undone. In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt |