Por. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is
The court awards it, and the law doth give it. [thine,
Shy. Most rightful judge!
[breast;
Por. And you must cut this flesh from off his
The law allows it, and the court awards it. [prepare
Shy. Most learned judge!—A sentence; come,
Por. Tarry a little;-there is something else.-
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;
The words expressly are, a pound of flesh;
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh:
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.

Gra. O upright judge!-Mark, Jew;-0
Shy. Is that the law? [learned judge!

Por. Thyself shalt see the act:
For, as thou urgest justice, be assur'd
Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desir'st.
Gra. Olearned judge!-Mark, Jew;-a learned
judge!

Shy. I take his offer then;-pay the bond thrice, And let the Christian go.

Bass. Here is the money.
Por. Soft;

The Jew shall have all justice;-soft!-no haste ;-
He shall have nothing but the penalty.

Gra. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge! Por. Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh. Shed thou no blood; nor cut thou less, nor more, But just a pound of flesh: if thou tak'st more, Or less, than a just pound,-be it but so much As makes it light, or heavy, in the substance, Or the division of the twentieth part Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn But in the estimation of a hair,Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate. Gru. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip. [ture. Por. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiShy. Give me my principal, and let me go. Bass. I have it ready for thee; here it is. Por. He hath refus'd it in the open court; He shall have merely justice, and his bond.

Gra. A Daniel, still say I; a second Daniel! I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. Shy. Shall I not have barely my principal? Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.

Shy. Why then the devil give him good of it! I'll stay, no longer question.

Por. Tarry, Jew;

The law hath yet another hold on you.,
It is enacted in the laws of Venice,-

If it be prov'd against an alien,...
That, by direct or indirect attempts,
He seek the life of any citizen,

The party, 'gainst the which he doth contrive,
Shall seize one half his, goods; the other half
Comes to the privy coffer of the state;
And the offender's life lics in the mercy
Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st:
For it appears, by manifest proceeding,
That indirectly, and directly too,

Thou hast contriv'd against the very life.

Of the defendant; and thou hast incurred
The danger formerly by me rehears'd.
Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke.
Gra. Beg, that thou may'st have leave to hang

thyself:

And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, Thou hast not left the value of a cord; [charge. Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the state's

Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it: [spirit, For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ; The other half comes to the general state, Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.

Por. Ay, for the state; not for Antonio. Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that: You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live.

Por. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? Gra. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake. Ant. So please my lord the duke, and all the To quit the fine for one half of his goods; [court, I am content, so he will let me have The other half in use,-to render it, Upon his death, unto the gentleman That lately stole his daughter: Two things provided more,-that, for this favour, He presently become a Christian ; The other, that he do record a gift, Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd, Unto his son Lorenzo, and his daughter.

Duke. He shall do this; or else I do recant The pardon that I late pronounced here. Por. Art thou contented, Jew; what dost thou Shy. I am content. [say?

Por. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. Shy. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence I am not well; send the deed after me, And I will sign it.

Duke. Get thee gone, but do it.

[fathers;

Gra. In christening thou shalt have two godHad I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more, To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. [erit Shy. Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. Por. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon; I must away this night toward Padua, And it is meet I presently set forth.

Duke. I am sorry that your leisure serves you
Antonio, gratify this gentleman;
[not.
For, in my mind, you are much bound to him.
[exeunt Duke, Magnificoes, and train.
Bass, Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend
Have, by your wisdom, been this day acquitted
Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof,
Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
We freely cope your courteous pains withal.
Ant. And stand indebted, over and above,
In love and service to you evermore.

Por. He is well paid, that is, well satisfied;
And I, delivering you, am satisfied,
And therein do account myself well paid;
My mind was never yet more mercenary.

I pray you, know me, when we meet again;

I wish you well, and so I take my leave. [ther; Bass. Dear sir, of force J must attempt you fur Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute,

Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you, Not to deny me, and to pardon me.. [yield. Por. You press me far, and therefore I will Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake; And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you: Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more; And you in love shall not deny me this.

Bass. This ring, good sir,-alas! it is a trifle; I will not shame myself to give you this.

Por. I will have nothing else but only this; And now, methinks, I have a mind to it.

Bass. There's more depends on this, than on the The dearest ring in Venice will I give you, [value. And find it out by proclamation; Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.

Por. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers: You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks, You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd. Bass. Good sir, this ring was given me by my And, when she put it on, she made me vow, [wife; That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it. Por. That 'scuse serves many men to save their An if your wife be not a mad woman, [gifts. And know how well I have deserv'd this ring, She would not hold out enemy for ever, For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you! [exeunt Portia and Nerissa. Ant. My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring; Let his deservings, and my love withal, Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.

Bass. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him, Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou canst,

SCENE I. BELMONT. AVENUE TO PORTIA'S

HOUSE.

Enter Lorenzo. and Jessica. Lor. The moon shines bright:-In such a night as this,

When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise; in such à night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night.

Jes. In such a night,

Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay'd away.

Lor. In such a night,

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand

Upon the wild sea-banks, and wav'd her love

To come again to Carthage.

Jes. In such a night,

Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs!
That did renew old son."

Lor. In such a night,

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew;

And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,

As far as Belmont.

Jes. And in such a night,

Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well;
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

Lor. And in such a night,
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

V.

Jes. I would out-night you, did nobody come: But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. Enter Stephano.

Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night? Steph. A friend. [you, friend? Lor. A friend? what friend? your name, I pray Steph. Stephano is my name; and I bring word, My mistress will before the break of day Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours.

Lor. Who comes with her?

Steph. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid I pray you, is my master yet return'd? Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house. Enter Launcelot.

Laun. Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola, sola!

Lor. Who calls?

[him.

pray yon,

My friend Stephano, siguify,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand;
And bring your music forth into the air.-
[exit Stephano.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica look, how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright go'd;
There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins:
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.-
Enter Musicians.

Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.

Jes. I am never merry, when I hear sweet

music.

[music.
Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of music touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,
By the sweet power of music: therefore, the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and
floods;

Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature:
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ;
The motions of his spirits are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music.
Enter Portia and Nerissa, at a distance.
Por. That light we see, is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see
the candle.

Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king, Until a king be by; and then his state Empties itself, as doth an inland brook Into the main of waters. Music! hark!

Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect; Methinks, it sounds much sweeter than by day. Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark. When neither is attended; and, I think, The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season season'd arc To their right praise, and true perfection!Peace, hoa! the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awak'd!

[music ceases.

Lor. That is the voice, Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia. Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows By the bad voice. [the cuckoo, Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. [welfare, Por. We have been praying for our husbands' Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Are they return'd?

Lor. Madam, they are not yet; But there is come a messenger before, To signify their coming.

Por. Go in, Nerissa,

Por. You should in all sense be much bound to For, as I hear, he was much bound for you [him, Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.

[Gratiano and Nerissa seem to talk apart. Gra. By yonder moon, I swear, you do me In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk: [wrong. Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. Por. A quarrel, ho, already? what's the matter Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring That she did give me; whose posy was For all the world, like cutler's poetry Upon a knife, love me, and leave me not.'

it

Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value? You swore to me, when I did give it you, That you would wear it till your hour of death And that it should lie with you in your grave. Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, You should have been respective, and have kept it. Gave it a judge's clerk !-but well I know, The clerk will ne'er wear hair on his face, that Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy, No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk; A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee; I could not for my heart deny it him. Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with To part so slightly with your wife's first gift A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger,

[you,

And riveted so with faith unto your flesh.
I gave my love a ring, and made him swear
Never to part with it; and here he stands:
I dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it,
Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth
That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano,
You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief;
An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it.

Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, And swear, I lost the ring defending it. [aside. Gra. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away Unto the judge that begg'd it, and, indeed, Deserv'd it too: and then the boy, his clerk, That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine: And neither man, nor master, would take aught But the two rings.

Por. What ring gave you, my lord?
Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me.
Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault,
I would deny it; but you see my finger
Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone.

Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth.
By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed
Until I see the ring.

Ner. Nor I in yours,

Till I again see mine.

Bass. Sweet Portia,

gave

If you did know to whom I
the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honour to contain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring.
What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe;
I'll die for't, but some woman had the ring.
Bass. No, by mine honour, madam, by my soul,
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,

[lady?

Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,
And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him,
And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away;
Even he that had held up the very life
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet
I was enforc'd to send it after him;
I was beset with shame and courtesy;
My honour would not let ingratitude
So much besmear it.- Pardon me, good lady;
For, by these blessed candles of the night,
Had you been there, I think, you would have
The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. [begg'd
Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my
Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, [house:
And that which you did swear to keep for me,
I will become as liberal as you;
I'll not deny him any thing I have,
No, not my body, nor my husband's bed:
Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:

Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus:
If you do not, if I be left alone,

Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own, I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis d How you do leave me to mine own protection. Gra. Well, do you so: let not me take him then; For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen. Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwithstanding.

Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong; And, in the hearing of these many friends I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes Wherein I see myself,—

Por. Mark you but that!

In both my eyes he doubly sees himself,
In each eye, one :-swear by your double self,
And there's an oath of credit.

Bass. Nay, but hear me:

Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear,
I never more will break an oath with thee.
Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth;
Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,
[to Pur.
Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
Will never more break faith advisedly.

Por. Then you shall be his surety: give him this, And bid him keep it better than the other. [ring. Ant. Here, lord Bassanio; swear to keep this Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor! Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; For by this ring the doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserv'd it?

Por. Speak not so grossly.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure; It comes from Padua, from Bellario: There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor; Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you, And but even now return'd; I have not yet Enter'd my house.-Antonio, you are welcome; And I have better news in store for you, Than you expect: unseal this letter soon; There you shall find, three of your argosies Are richly come to harbour suddenly: You shall not know by what strange accident I chanced on this letter.

[not?

Ant. I am dumb.
Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you
Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me
cuckold?

Ner. Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man.

Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow; When I am absent, then lie with my wife.

Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life and For here I read for certain that my ships [living; Are safely come to road.

Por. How now, Lorenzo?

My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.—