« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »
When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, IV.
Then nightly sings the staring owl,
To-who; When all aloud the wind doth blow,
Tu-whit, to-who, a merry note, And coughing drowns the parson's
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. saw, And birds sit brooding in the snow, Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after And Marian's nose looks red and the songs of Apollo. You, that way; we, this raiв,
MERCHANT OF VENICE.
PERSONS OF THE DRAMA.
Prince of Morocco } suitors to Portia.
Duke of Venice.
OLD GOBBO, father to Launcelot.
SALERIO, a messenger from Venice.
LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio.
BALTHAZAR, BASSANIO, his friend.
servants to Portia.
NERISSA, her waiting-maid.
JESSICA, daughter to Shylock.
Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a clown, servant to Shylock. Justice, Jailer, Servants, and other Attendants.
SCENE,- partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia, on the Continent.
SCENE I.-Venice. A Street.
Enter Antonio, Salarino, and SALANIO.
Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad ;
Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
That curt'sy to them, do them reverence,
grass, to know where sits the wind;
Salar. My wind, cooling my broth, Would blow me to an ague, when I thought What harm a wind too great might do at sea. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,
But I should think of shallows and of flats; They lose it, that do buy it with much care. And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, Believe me, you are marvellously chang’d. Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs,
Ant. I hold the world but as the world, GraTo kiss her burial. Should I go to church,
tiano; And see the holy edifice of stone,
A stage, where every man must play a part, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks? And mine a sad one. Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Gra. Let me play the fool: Would scatter all her spices on the stream ; With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks ; And let my liver rather heat with wine, And, in a word, but even now worth this, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. And now worth nothing ? Shall I have the Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, thought
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? To think on this ; and shall I lack the thought, Sleep, when he wakes ? and creep into the jaunThat such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me dice sad?
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio, But, tell not me; I know, Antonio
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ; Is sad to think upon his merchandize.
There are a sort of men, whose visages Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond; My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, And do a wilful stillness entertain, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Upon the fortune of this present year:
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; Therefore, my merchandize makes me not sad. As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, Salan. Why then you are in love.
And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! Ant. Fye, fye!
0, my Antonio, I do know of these, Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say, That therefore only are reputed wise, you are sad,
For saying nothing ; who, I am very sure, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy If they should speak, would almost damn those For you to laugh, and leap, and say, you are ears, merry,
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed fools. Janus,
I'll tell thee more of this another time: Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: But fish not, with this melancholy bait, Some, that will evermore peep through their eyes, For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper ; Come, good Lorenzo :-Fare ye well, a while ; And other of such vinegar aspect,
I'll end my exhortation after dinner. That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinnere Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
I must be one of these same dumb wise men, Enter Bassanio, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.
For Gratiano never lets me speak. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble Gra. Well, keep me company but two years kinsman,
more, Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well ; Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own We leave you now with better company.
tongue. Salar. I would have staid till I had made you Ant. Farewell : I'll grow a talker for this gear. merry,
Gra. Thanks, i'faith ; for silence is only comIf worthier friends had not prevented me.
mendable Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. I take it, your own business calls on you,
[Ereunt Grutiano and Lorenzo. And you embrace the occasion to depart.
Ant. Is that any thing now? Salar. Good morrow, my good lords.
Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of noBass. Good signiors both, when shall we thing, more than any man in all Venice : His laugh? Say, when ?
reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so ? bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on find them; and, when you have them, they are yours.
not worth the search. [Ereunt Salarino and Salanio. Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is this same, Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, Antonio,
That you to-day promised to tell me of? We two will leave you: but, at dinner time, Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, I pray you, have in mind where we must
meet. How much I have disabled mine estate, Bass. I will not fail you.
By something showing a more swelling port Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; Than
my faint means would grant continuance : You have too much respect upon the world : Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
From such a noble rate ; but my chief care SCENE II.-Belmont. A room in Portia's Is, to come fairly off from the great debts,
house. Wherein my time, something too prodigal, Hath left me gaged : To you, Antonio,
Enter PORTIA and NERISSA. I owe the most, in money, and in love;
Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is And from your love I have a warranty
a-weary of this great world. To unburthen all my plots, and purposes,
Ner: You would be, sweet madam, if your How to get clear of all the debts I owe. miseries were in the same abundance as your
Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; good fortunes are: And yet, for aught I see, And, if it stand, as you yourself still do, they are as sick that surfeit with too much, as Within the eye of honour, be assur’d,
they that starve with nothing : It is no mean My purse, my person, my extremest means, happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean; Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.
superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost competency lives longer. one shaft,
Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. Í shot his fellow of the self-same flight
Ner. They would do better, if well followed. The self-same way, with more advised watch, Por. If to do were as easy, as to know what To fird the other forth; and, by advent'ring both, were good to do, chapels had been churches, I oft found both : I urge this childhood proof, and poor men's cottages, princes' palaces. It is Because what follows is pure innocence. a good divine that follows his own instructions: I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth, I can easier teach twenty what were good to be That which I owe is lost; but if you please done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine To shoot another arrow that self way
own teaching. The brain may devise laws Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, for the blood; but a hot temper leaps over a As I will watch the aim, or to find both, cold decree: such a hare is madness the youth, Or bring your latter hazard back again, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the crip And thankfully rest debtor for the first. ple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to Ant. You know me well; and herein spend choose me a husband :-0 me, the word choose! but time,
neither choose whom I would, nor refuse To wind about my love with circumstance: whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughAnd, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, ter curb’d by the will of a dead father :- Is it In making question of my uttermost,
not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor Than if you had made waste of all I have: refuse none? Then do but say to me what I should do, Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and That in your knowledge may by me be done, holy men, at their death, have good inspiraAnd I am prest unto it: therefore, speak. tions; therefore, the lottery that he hath de
Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, vised in these three chests, of gold, silver, and And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, lead, (whereof who chooses his meaning, chooses Of wond'rous virtues; sometimes from her eyes you,) will, no doubt, never be chosen by any I did receive fair speechless messages :
rightly, but one who you shall rightly love. Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalued But what warmth is there in your affection toTo Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.
wards any of these princely suitors that are al. Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth ; ready come? For the four winds blow in from every coast Por. I pray thee, over-name them ; and as Renowned suitors : and her sunny locks thou namest them, I will describe them; and, Hang on her temples like a golden fleece ; according to my description, level at my affeo Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' tion. strand,
Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. And many Jasons come in quest of her.
Por. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth O, my Antonio, had I but the means
nothing but talk of his horse ; and he makes it a To hold a rival place with one of them, great appropriation to his own good parts, that I have a mind presages me such thrift, he can shoe him himself: I am much afraid, my That I should questionless be fortunate. lady his mother played false with a smith. Ant. Thou know'st, that all my fortunes are Ner. Then, is there the county Palatine.
Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who Nor have I money, nor commodity
should say, An if you will not have me, choose : To raise a present sum: therefore go forth, he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear, Try what my credit can in Venice do;
he will prove the weeping philosopher when That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, he grows old, being so full of unmannerly To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. sadness in his youth. I had rather be marGo, presently inquire, and so will I,
ried to a death's head with a bone in his Where money is; and I no question make, mouth, than to either of these. God defend To have it of my trust, or for my sake. (Exeunt. I me from these two!
at sea ;
Ner. How say you by the French lord, Mon- | not one among them but I dote on his very
absieur Le Bon ?
sence, and I pray God grant them a fair deparPor. God made him, and therefore let him ture. pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your fabe a mocker; But, he! why, he hath a horse ther's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, better than the Neapolitan's; a better bad that came hither in company of the marquis of habit of frowning than the count Palatine; he Montferrat ? is every man in no man: if a throstle sing, he Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio ; as I think, falls straight a capering ; he will fence with his so was he called. own shadow: if I should marry him, I should Ner. True, madam ; he, of all the men that marry twenty husbands: If he would despise ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best me, I would forgive him ; for if he love me to deserving a fair lady. madness, I shall never requite him.
Por. I remember him well; and I remember Ner. What say you then to Faulconbridge, him worthy of thy praise. —How now! what the young baron of England ?
news? Por. You know, I say nothing to him; for he understands not me, nor I him: he hath
Enter a Servant. neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you Serv. The four strangers seek for you, madam, will come into the court and swear, that I have to take their leave: and there is a fore-runner a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a come from a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who proper man's picture; But, alas! who can con- brings word, the prince, his master, will be here verse with a dumb show? How oddly he is to-night. suited! I think, he bought his doublet in Italy, Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so his round hose in France, his bonnet in Ger- good heart as I can bid the other four farewell, many, and his behaviour every where.
I should be glad of his approach; if he have the Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, condition of a saint, and the complexion of a his neighbour ?
devil, I had rather he should shrive me than Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in wive me. Come, Nerissa.—Sirrah, go before.him; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, anoEnglishman, and swore he would pay him ther knocks at the door.
[ Exeunt. again, when he was able: I think, the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for SCENE III.-Venice. A public place. another. Ner. How like you the young German, the
Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK. duke of Saxony's nephew ?
Shy. Three thousand ducats,—well. Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he Bass. Ay, sir, for three months. is sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, Shy. For three months, well. when he is drunk: when he is best, he is little Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is shall be bound. little better than a beast: and the worst fall Shy. Antonio shall become bound, -well. that ever fell, I hope, I shall make shift to go Bass. May you stead me? Will you pleasure without him.
me? Shall I know your answer ? Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose Shy. Three thousand ducats, for three months, the right casket, you should refuse to perform and Antonio bound. your father's will, if you should refuse to accept Bass. Your answer to that.
Shy. Antonio is a good man. Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the. thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary? contrary casket : for, if the devil be within, and Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no ;--my meaning in that temptation without, I know he will choose saying he is a good man, is to have you underit. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I will be stand
me, that he is sufficient: yet his means are
in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tri. Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having polis, another to the Indies ; I understand moreany of these lords; they have acquainted me over upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexiwith their determinations: which is indeed, to co, a fourth for England,—and other ventures return to their home, and to trouble you with he hath, squander'd abroad : But ships are but no more suit ; unless you may be won by some boards, saisors but men: there be land-rats, and other sort than your father's imposition, depend-water-rats, water-thieves, and land-thieves; I ing on the caskets.
mean, pirates; and then, there is the peril of Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will waters, winds, and rocks : The man is, notwithdie as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by standing, sufficient ;-three thousand ducats ;the manner of my father's will: I am glad this I think, I may take his bond. parcel of wooers are so reasonable ; for there is Bass. Be assured you may.
married to a sponge.