44
Scene i
Belmont. A room in PORTIA’s house. | ||
[ Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF MOROCCO and his train; PORTIA, NERISSA, and others attending ] | ||
MOROCCO | Mislike me not for my complexion, | |
The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun, | ||
To whom I am a neighbour and near bred. | ||
Bring me the fairest creature northward born, | ||
Where Phoebus’ fire scarce thaws the icicles, | ||
And let us make incision for your love, | ||
To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. | ||
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine | ||
Hath fear’d the valiant: by my love I swear | ||
The best-regarded virgins of our clime | 10 | |
Have loved it too: I would not change this hue, | ||
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen. | ||
PORTIA | In terms of choice I am not solely led | |
By nice direction of a maiden’s eyes; | ||
Besides, the lottery of my destiny | ||
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing: | ||
But if my father had not scanted me | ||
And hedged me by his wit, to yield myself | ||
His wife who wins me by that means I told you, | ||
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair | 20 | |
As any comer I have look’d on yet | ||
For my affection. | ||
MOROCCO | Even for that I thank you: | |
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets | ||
To try my fortune. By this scimitar | ||
That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince | ||
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, | ||
I would outstare the sternest eyes that look, | ||
Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, | ||
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, | ||
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, | 30 | |
To win thee, lady. But, alas the while! | ||
If Hercules and Lichas play at dice | ||
Which is the better man, the greater throw | ||
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand: | ||
So is Alcides beaten by his page; | ||
And so may I, blind fortune leading me, | ||
Miss that which one unworthier may attain, | ||
And die with grieving. | ||
PORTIA | You must take your chance, | |
And either not attempt to choose at all | ||
Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong | 40 | |
Never to speak to lady afterward | ||
In way of marriage: therefore be advised. | ||
MOROCCO | Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance. | |
PORTIA | First, forward to the temple: after dinner | |
Your hazard shall be made. | ||
MOROCCO | Good fortune then! | |
To make me blest or cursed’st among men. | ||
[Cornets, and exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
The old stage direction reads: “Enter Morochus a tawnie Moore all in white, and three or foure followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerrissa, and their traine. Flo[urish of] Cornets.” Tawnie was a yellowish dark color. All in white alludes to the appropriate costume of the Moor. The Prince of Morocco enters to the sound (flourish) of martial music. This scene represents only the preliminary meeting of Portia and the Prince; his choice is deferred to Scene VII of this act.
ENDNOTES
1. Mislike, dislike.
7. reddest, the superlative was often used as a comparative. Compare 1 Henry VI, ii. 4. 14: “Between two horses which doth bear him best.” Red blood was considered a proof of courage.
8. aspect. Stress on the last syllable, like many other Elizabethan words, now pronounced with the accent on the first.
9. fear’d, frightened.
12. thoughts, affections.
13. In terms of choice, in the matter of choosing [a husband].
14. nice, fanciful.
17. scanted, limited.
18. wit, ingenuity.
19. His wife who wins. The possessive formerly, having the greater powers of a genitive case, could be used as the antecedent of a relative, as here.
20, 21. as fair As any. This absolutely truthful statement of Portia (who means that the Prince, were she free to choose, stands as fair a chance of winning her as any of the suitors whom she has already refused) conveys a very different meaning to his majesty of Morocco; who, taking it to himself – as it was intended that he should – thanks Portia for her civility. Notice the play on the word fair, which means on equal terms with the rest, but also refers to the Prince’s color, which Portia assures him is not to bar him from an equal chance with other fairer suitors.
25. Sophy, commonly used to denote the ruler of Persia, though originally meaning only a wise man.
26. Solyman was the greatest Sultan of Shakespeare’s century. A romantic drama like this does not demand historical accuracy in its references. But this allusion is doubtless to Solyman’s disastrous campaign against the Persians in 1535.
31. alas the while! literally, “Alas for the present condition of things!” Here equal to alas!
32. Hercules and Lichas. Lichas was the servant and hence the page (line 35 below) of Hercules, who, unknowing, brought that hero the garment poisoned with the blood of the Centaur, Nessus, by the wearing of which Hercules lost his life.
35. Alcides. Hercules was so called from his stepfather’s father, Alcaeus.
42. be advised, be deliberate.
43. Nor will not. A double negative in a negative sense, meaning, Nor will I speak to lady afterward, etc. See above, i. 2. 28: “Nor refuse none.”
44. to the temple, the place in which the Prince’s choice of the caskets was to be made; perhaps no more than a temple-like structure in which the caskets were placed.
46. blest or cursed’st, most blessed or most cursed. It is no uncommon idiom of Elizabethan writers thus “to attach terminations to one adjective which affect others.” Compare Measure for Measure, iv. 6. 13: “The generous and gravest citizens.”
Scene ii
Venice. A street. | ||
[Enter LAUNCELOT] | ||
LAUNCELOT | 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 run; scorn running with thy | ||
heels.’ Well, the most courageous fiend bids me | ||
pack: ‘Via!’ says the fiend; ‘away!’ says the | 10 | |
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. ‘Budge not,’ says my conscience. | 20 | |
‘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 | ||
incarnal; and, in my conscience, my conscience is | ||
but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel | 30 | |
me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more | ||
friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are | ||
at your command; I will run. | ||
[Enter Old GOBBO, with a basket] | ||
GOBBO | Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way | |
to master Jew’s? | ||
LAUNCELOT | [Aside] O heavens, this is my true-begotten father! | |
who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, | ||
knows me not: I will try confusions with him. | ||
GOBBO | Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way | 40 |
to master Jew’s? | ||
LAUNCELOT | 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. | ||
GOBBO | 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? | ||
LAUNCELOT | Talk you of young Master Launcelot? | 50 |
[Aside] | ||
Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. Talk you | ||
of young Master Launcelot? | ||
GOBBO | 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. | ||
LAUNCELOT | Well, let his father be what a’ will, we talk of | |
young Master Launcelot. | ||
GOBBO | Your worship’s friend and Launcelot, sir. | |
LAUNCELOT | But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, | |
talk you of young Master Launcelot? | 60 | |
GOBBO | Of Launcelot, an’t please your mastership. | |
LAUNCELOT | 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. | ||
GOBBO | Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my | |
age, my very prop. | 70 | |
LAUNCELOT | Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or | |
a prop? Do you know me, father? | ||
GOBBO | 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? | ||
LAUNCELOT | Do you not know me, father? | |
GOBBO | Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not. | |
LAUNCELOT | 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 | 80 | |
your son: give me your blessing: truth will come | ||
to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man’s son | ||
may, but at the length truth will out. | ||
GOBBO | Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not | |
Launcelot, my boy. | ||
LAUNCELOT | 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. | 90 | |
GOBBO | I cannot think you are my son. | |
LAUNCELOT | 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. | ||
GOBBO | Her name is Margery, indeed: I’ll be sworn, if thou | |
be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. | ||
Lord worshipped might he be! what a beard hast thou | ||
got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin than | ||
Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail. | 101 | |
LAUNCELOT | It should seem, then, that Dobbin’s tail grows | |
backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail | ||
than I have of my face when I last saw him. | ||
GOBBO | Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy | |
master agree? I have brought him a present. How | ||
‘gree you now? | ||
LAUNCELOT | Well, well: but, for mine own part, as I have set | |
up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I | 110 | |
have run some ground. My master’s a very Jew: give | ||
him a present! give him a halter: I am famished in | ||
his service; you may tell every finger I have with | ||
my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come: give me | ||
your present to one Master Bassanio, who, indeed, | ||
gives rare new liveries: if I serve not him, I | ||
will run as far as God has any ground. O rare | ||
fortune! here comes the man: to him, father; for I | ||
am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer. | 120 | |
[Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO and other followers] | ||
BASSANIO | You may do so; but let it be so hasted that supper | |
be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See | ||
these letters delivered; put the liveries to making, | ||
and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. | ||
[Exit a Servant] | ||
LAUNCELOT | To him, father. | |
GOBBO | God bless your worship! | |
BASSANIO | Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me? | |
GOBBO | Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy,– | |
LAUNCELOT | Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew’s man; that | 130 |
would, sir, as my father shall specify– | ||
GOBBO | He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve– | |
LAUNCELOT | Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, | |
and have a desire, as my father shall specify– | ||
GOBBO | His master and he, saving your worship’s reverence, | |
are scarce cater-cousins– | ||
LAUNCELOT | To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, having | 140 |
done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being, I | ||
hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you– | ||
GOBBO | I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon | |
your worship, and my suit is– | ||
LAUNCELOT | In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as | |
your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, | ||
though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father. | ||
BASSANIO | One speak for both. What would you? | 150 |
LAUNCELOT | Serve you, sir. | |
GOBBO | That is the very defect of the matter, sir. | |
BASSANIO | I know thee well; thou hast obtain’d thy suit: | |
Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, | ||
And hath preferr’d thee, if it be preferment | ||
To leave a rich Jew’s service, to become | ||
The follower of so poor a gentleman. | ||
LAUNCELOT | 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. | 160 | |
BASSANIO | Thou speak’st it well. Go, father, with thy son. | |
Take leave of thy old master and inquire | ||
My lodging out. Give him a livery | ||
More guarded than his fellows’: see it done. | ||
LAUNCELOT | Father, in. I cannot get a service, no; I have | |
ne’er a tongue in my head. Well, 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 | 170 | |
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] | ||
BASSANIO | I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this: | |
These things being bought and orderly bestow’d, | ||
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night | 180 | |
My best-esteem’d acquaintance: hie thee, go. | ||
LEONARDO | My best endeavours shall be done herein. | |
[Enter GRATIANO] | ||
GRATIANO | Where is your master? | |
LEONARDO | Yonder, sir, he walks. | |
[Exit LEONARDO] | ||
GRATIANO | Signior Bassanio! | |
BASSANIO | Gratiano! | |
GRATIANO | I have a suit to you. | |
BASSANIO | You have obtain’d it. | |
GRATIANO | You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont. | |
BASSANIO | Why then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano; | |
Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice; | 190 | |
Parts that become thee happily enough | ||
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults; | ||
But where thou art not known, why, there they show | ||
Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain | ||
To allay with some cold drops of modesty | ||
Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior | ||
I be misconstrued in the place I go to, | ||
And lose my hopes. | ||
GRATIANO | Signior Bassanio, hear me: | |
If I do not put on a sober habit, | ||
Talk with respect and swear but now and then, | ||
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely, | ||
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes | ||
Thus with my hat, and sigh and say ‘amen,’ | ||
Use all the observance of civility, | ||
Like one well studied in a sad ostent | ||
To please his grandam, never trust me more. | ||
BASSANIO | Well, we shall see your bearing. | |
GRATIANO | Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me | |
By what we do to-night. | ||
BASSANIO | No, that were pity: | |
I would entreat you rather to put on | 210 | |
Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends | ||
That purpose merriment. But fare you well: | ||
I have some business. | ||
GRATIANO | And I must to Lorenzo and the rest: | |
But we will visit you at supper-time. | ||
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
The old stage direction reads: “Enter the Clowne alone.” This term, like the term fool, was carelessly employed in Shakespeare’s time. Launcelot is neither a fool nor a clown within the strict meaning of either word. The student is advised not to try too narrowly to make sober sense out of Shakespeare’s inimitable nonsense. Logic is not Launcelot’s forte; and as to some of his phrases, we may well echo Dr. Furness’s warning in the words of Bottom: “Man is but an ass if he go about to expound this.” In this scene, Launcelot changes his service from Shylock to Bassanio, and Gratiano is granted his suit to accompany Bassanio to Belmont.
ENDNOTES
9. scorn running with thy heels. To scorn a thing with the heels, to kick at it, was a proverbial saying. Compare Much Ado About Nothing, iii. 4. 51: “I scorn that with my heels.”
11. Via! Italian for away; and very commonly employed.
12. for the heavens, for heaven’s sake.
17. did something smack [of the knave] … grow to, has been explained as “a household phrase applied to milk when burnt to the bottom of the saucepan, and thence acquiring an unpleasant taste.”
25. God bless [or save] the mark, is used as a parenthetical excuse for the use of a profane or disrespectful word. Launcelot is here waggishly apologizing for using the word devil. Compare the clause, “Saving your reverence,” below, line 27, used in precisely the same manner.
29. incarnal, Launcelot means incarnate. The “nice derangement of epitaphs,” as Mrs. Malaprop afterwards called this use of a word of similar sound but of different sense for ludicrous effect, is very common in the old drama.
37. sand-blind, purblind, half-blind. Compare stone-blind, wholly blind; high-gravel-blind is of course Launcelot’s jest.
39. confusions, Launcelot’s word for conclusions; but Launcelot’s conclusions are confusions, as the rest of this interview discloses.
44. marry, originally Mary, a remnant like by’r Lady (by our Lady), God’s sonties below, and dear me (Deus meus) of a ruder age in which everyday conversation was interlarded with oaths. These terms had by Shakespeare’s day ceased to have more force than mere exclamatory phrases or expletives.
47. sonties. Variously derived from sanctities or from saints, saunties, little saints. Compare by’r Lakin, “by our Ladikin.”
55. well to live, with every prospect of living long.
58. Your worship’s friend and Launcelot, sir. Launcelot whimsically endeavors to get his father to speak of him as Master Launcelot, which his father is unwilling to do out of respect for his “worship,” whom he thinks he is addressing.
59. But I pray you, ergo, old man. Launcelot is not without some sense of the meaning of the learned word which he uses. I pray you, ergo [for that reason, because he is my worship’s friend, call him] Master Launcelot. But enough: Launcelot is trying his “confusions” on us as well as on his father.
61. an’t, if it.
64. father, a general term used in addressing old men. Gobbo does not as yet recognize his mischievous son.
71. hovel-post, post supporting a shed.
82. give me your blessing. Here, according to an old stage tradition, Launcelot kneels with his back to his father, who, groping about, touches his son’s long hair, and mistaking it for a beard, of which Launcelot has no sign, says, “Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not Launcelot, my boy.” See below lines 86-91.
100. fill-horse, shaft-horse.
110. set up my rest, a phrase taken from the fashionable game of primero, signifying, to stand by the cards one has in one’s hand; and hence to determine, make up one’s mind.
114. tell, count.
115. give me [i.e. for my benefit] your present. The old dative of the personal pronoun is often used where we should use for me or to me; sometimes where the word would seem unnecessary to the modern reader. Compare the phrase, “Do me a favor.”
115. your present. Old Gobbo is the bearer of a gift from the country to Shylock, Launcelot’s master. This gift Launcelot diverts to Bassanio, with whom he desires to take service.
119. I am a Jew. An asseveration used elsewhere. Compare Much Ado About Nothing, ii. 3. 272: “If I do not love her, I am a Jew.”
121. The old editions read, “Enter Bassanio with a follower or two.”
121. hasted, hastened.
123. put the liveries to making, have the liveries made. The old termination en was often confused with ing in Elizabethan English.
125. anon, at once.
128. Gramercy! French grand merci, much thanks.
133. infection, for affection, desire.
139. cater-cousins, a word of doubtful derivation and original meaning, applied to persons on intimate terms with each other, and used occasionally as if synonymous with cousins-germain. It has been thought that the word is connected with cate or cake, and caterer; and means mess-fellows.
142. fruitify, for certify.
146. impertinent, for pertinent.
152. defect, for effect.
155. preferr’d, recommended for promotion.
158. The old proverb. Launcelot alludes to the saying, “The grace of God is gear [wealth] enough.”
162. inquire…out, seek by asking.
164. guarded, trimmed with braid.
166. Well, if any man, etc. Table is the palm of the hand in chiromancy or palmistry. Take the relative which as referring to table and in the causal relation equivalent to for it doth. The meaning of the passage then is: There is no hand in Italy offering fairer signs of palmistry than mine, for it doth offer to swear upon a book that I shall have good fortune.
169. Go to, equivalent to our Come, come. To is here an adverb. Compare its use to “to and fro,” and the nautical expressions, “heave to, come to.”
169. a simple line of life, literally a mean, poor line of life. But Launcelot is speaking ironically in reference to his good fortune. The line of life is the circular line surrounding the thumb. The table line or line of fortune runs from the forefinger, below the other three fingers, to the side of the hand. Launcelot pretends to be reading his own fortune by palmistry, and discovers that he is to be married fifteen times, and other like matters.
176. gear, matter.
178. Notice how the play falls again into blank verse with the departure of the low comedy of Launcelot from the scene.
194. liberal, licentious.
196. skipping spirit. We should say vivacious or frivolous temper. Compare 1 Henry IV, iii. 2. 60: “The skipping king, he ambled up and down.” Spirit is pronounced as one syllable. See below, v. 1. 86.
202, 203. hood mine eyes Thus with my hat. Hats were commonly worn by all persons of station at dinner. To take off the hat, except for courtesy in company, was an acknowledgment of inferiority.
205. ostent, appearance. Compare below, ii. 8. 44: “Fair ostents of love.”
Scene iii
Venice. A room in SHYLOCK’s house. | ||
[Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT] | ||
JESSICA | I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so: | |
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil, | ||
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness. | ||
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee: | ||
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see | ||
Lorenzo, who is thy new master’s guest: | ||
Give him this letter; do it secretly; | ||
And so farewell: I would not have my father | ||
See me in talk with thee. | ||
LAUNCELOT | Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful | 10 |
pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian did not play | ||
the knave and get thee, I am much deceived. But, | ||
adieu: these foolish drops do something drown my | ||
manly spirit: adieu. | ||
JESSICA | Farewell, good Launcelot. | |
[Exit LAUNCELOT] | ||
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me | ||
To be ashamed to be my father’s child! | ||
But though I am a daughter to his blood, | ||
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo, | ||
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife, | 20 | |
Become a Christian and thy loving wife. | ||
[Exeunt] |
ENDNOTES
2. Our house is hell. Jessica is distraught between her love for Lorenzo and her religion and duty to her father, hence the extravagance of her words.
5. soon at supper. Compare Richard III, iv. 3. 31.
10. tears exhibit my tongue, tears show what my tongue would express but for them.
16. what heinous sin, i.e. sinfulness.
19. Lorenzo. The story of Jessica’s elopement is apparently of Shakespeare’s own invention. Its purpose is plainly to offer strong additional reasons, – the stealing of his daughter and his ducats by another Christian, – for Shylock’s implacability as to Antonio and his bond.
Scene iv
Venice. A street. | ||
[Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO] | ||
LORENZO | Nay, we will slink away in supper-time, | |
Disguise us at my lodging and return, | ||
All in an hour. | ||
GRATIANO | We have not made good preparation. | |
SALARINO | We have not spoke us yet of torchbearers. | |
SALANIO | ‘Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order’d, | |
And better in my mind not undertook. | ||
LORENZO | ‘Tis now but four o’clock: we have two hours | |
To furnish us. | ||
[Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter] | ||
Friend Launcelot, what’s the news? | ||
LAUNCELOT | An it shall please you to break up | 10 |
this, it shall seem to signify. | ||
LORENZO | I know the hand: in faith, ’tis a fair hand; | |
And whiter than the paper it writ on | ||
Is the fair hand that writ. | ||
GRATIANO | Love-news, in faith. | |
LAUNCELOT | By your leave, sir. | |
LORENZO | Whither goest thou? | |
LAUNCELOT | Marry, sir, to bid my old master the | |
Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian. | ||
LORENZO | Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica | 20 |
I will not fail her; speak it privately. | ||
Go, gentlemen, | ||
[Exit LAUNCELOT] | ||
Will you prepare you for this masque tonight? | ||
I am provided of a torch-bearer. | ||
SALANIO | Ay, marry, I’ll be gone about it straight. | |
SALANIO | And so will I. | |
LORENZO | Meet me and Gratiano | |
At Gratiano’s lodging some hour hence. | ||
SALARINO | ‘Tis good we do so. | |
[Exit SALARINO and SALANIO] | ||
GRATIANO | Was not that letter from fair Jessica? | 30 |
LORENZO | 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: | 40 | |
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. | ||
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
Gratiano is arranging with his friends to entertain Bassanio with a masque to celebrate his departure for Belmont. See a similar entertainment in Henry VIII, i. 4. Masquerading was not as common in England as in the Venice of Shakespeare’s day.
ENDNOTES
1. in, during, at. Compare below, v. 1. 1: “In such a night as this.”
5. spoke us yet of torch-bearers, bespoken, or made arrangements for torch-bearers.
10. break up, break open, of a sealed letter. Compare The Winter’s Tale, iii. 2. 132: “Break up the seals and read.”
24. provided of a torch-bearer, with a torch-bearer. Of is used in Elizabethan English not only of the agent, but of the instrument. Compare below, v. I. 296: “You are not satisfied Of these events.”
Scene v
Venice. Before SHYLOCK’s house. | ||
[Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT] | ||
SHYLOCK | Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, | |
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:– | ||
What, Jessica!–thou shalt not gormandise, | ||
As thou hast done with me:–What, Jessica!– | ||
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;– | ||
Why, Jessica, I say! | ||
LAUNCELOT | Why, Jessica! | |
SHYLOCK | Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. | |
LAUNCELOT | Your worship was wont to tell me that | |
I could do nothing without bidding. | ||
[Enter Jessica] | ||
JESSICA | Call you? what is your will? | 10 |
SHYLOCK | I am bid forth to supper, Jessica: | |
There are my keys. But wherefore should I go? | ||
I am not bid for love; they flatter me: | ||
But yet I’ll go in hate, to feed upon | ||
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl, | ||
Look to my house. I am right loath to go: | ||
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, | ||
For I did dream of money-bags to-night. | ||
LAUNCELOT | I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect | |
your reproach. | 20 | |
SHYLOCK | So do I his. | |
LAUNCELOT | An 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. | ||
SHYLOCK | What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica: | |
Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum | ||
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck’d fife, | 30 | |
Clamber not you up to the casements then, | ||
Nor thrust your head into the public street | ||
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish’d faces, | ||
But stop my house’s ears, I mean my casements: | ||
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter | ||
My sober house. By Jacob’s staff, I swear, | ||
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night: | ||
But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah; | ||
Say I will come. | ||
LAUNCELOT | I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at | 40 |
window, for all this, There will come a Christian | ||
boy, will be worth a Jewess’ eye. | ||
[Exit LAUNCELOT] | ||
SHYLOCK | What says that fool of Hagar’s offspring, ha? | |
JESSICA | His words were ‘Farewell mistress;’ nothing else. | |
SHYLOCK | 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 would have him help to waste | 50 | |
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; | ||
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. | ||
[Exit SHYLOCK] | ||
JESSICA | Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, | |
I have a father, you a daughter, lost. | ||
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
This scene gives us briefly the relation of Shylock and Jessica; his faith in her, shown in his entrusting to her his keys; but his mistrust of her levity in his injunction concerning the masquers, and his premonition of coming evil. The scene also completes, by means of Launcelot’s hint concerning the masque, Jessica’s plan to run away with Lorenzo.
ENDNOTES
3. What, Jessica! What, like why and when, was used as an exclamation of impatience. Compare below, v. 1. 151: “What talk you of the posy.”
3. gormandize, the thrifty Shylock and the indolent, careless Launcelot would have very different ideas on this subject. See above, ii. 2. 113, Launcelot’s complaint that he was famished.
5. rend apparel out, tear out, burst.
11. bid forth, invited out.
14. to feed upon The prodigal Christian. This change in Shylock’s earlier determination not to eat with a Christian is due to his purpose of revenge.
18. money-bags. Dreams go by contraries.
18. to-night, here last night, although sometimes used in the modern sense, as below, line 37 of this scene.
21. So do I his [reproach], Shylock takes Launcelot’s word reproach, intended for approach, in its actual sense.
22. An, if.
25. a-bleeding. Bleeding at the nose was formerly regarded as an indication of coming misfortune.
25. Black-Monday. Easter Monday, so called because of a violent winter storm, April 14, 1360, in which many of the soldiers of King Edward III, then besieging Paris, perished of cold.
30. wry-neck’d fife, variously explained as a fife with a wry or crooked neck, or as applying to the fife player, “awry-necked musician, for he always looks away from his instrument.”
33. varnish’d faces. In allusion to the varnished and painted masques worn by masqueraders.
36. Jacob’s staff. Though popularly used of a pilgrim’s staff in general, the word here has reference to Genesis, xxxii. 10 and Hebrews, xi. 21.
37. forth, from home.
37. no mind of feasting forth, no inclination to feast from home. See below, iv. I. 402: “I humbly do desire your grace of pardon.” Observe the use of forth as an adverb; and compare The Merry Wives of Windsor, ii. 2. 276: “Her husband will he forth.”
44. Hagar’s offspring, i.e. son of a bondswoman. Genesis, xvi.
46. patch, used as a nickname for a jester, is probably derived from the motley or patched coat of the professional fool. Notice the touch of kindliness in Shylock’s allusion to Launcelot, and that at the very moment when Jessica is deceiving him with a deliberate lie.
48. the wild-cat, which prowls by night and sleeps all day.
52. Perhaps I will, in modern English shall. Shylock did not feel perfect confidence in Jessica.
56. Note the rhyming couplet which marks the conclusion of a scene, although here the stage setting remains the same, and the action proceeds at once to Jessica’s elopement.
Scene vi
Venice. Before SHYLOCK’s house. | ||
[Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued] | ||
GRATIANO | This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo | |
Desired us to make stand. | ||
SALARINO | His hour is almost past. | |
GRATIANO | And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, | |
For lovers ever run before the clock. | ||
SALARINO | O, ten times faster Venus’ pigeons fly | |
To seal love’s bonds new-made, than they are wont | ||
To keep obliged faith unforfeited! | ||
GRATIANO | That ever holds: who riseth from a feast | |
With that keen appetite that he sits down? | ||
Where is the horse that doth untread again | 10 | |
His tedious measures with the unbated fire | ||
That he did pace them first? All things that are, | ||
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d. | ||
How like a younker or a prodigal | ||
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, | ||
Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind! | ||
How like the prodigal doth she return, | ||
With over-weather’d ribs and ragged sails, | ||
Lean, rent and beggar’d by the strumpet wind! | ||
SALARINO | Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter. | 20 |
[Enter LORENZO] | ||
LORENZO | Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; | |
Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait: | ||
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] | ||
JESSICA | Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty, | |
Albeit I’ll swear that I do know your tongue. | ||
LORENZO | Lorenzo, and thy love. | |
JESSICA | Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed, | |
For who love I so much? And now who knows | 30 | |
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? | ||
LORENZO | Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art. | |
JESSICA | Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. | |
I am glad ’tis night, you do not look on me, | ||
For I am much ashamed 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. | ||
LORENZO | Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. | 40 |
JESSICA | 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 obscured. | ||
LORENZO | So are you, sweet, | |
Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. | ||
But come at once; | ||
For the close night doth play the runaway, | ||
And we are stay’d for at Bassanio’s feast. | ||
JESSICA | I will make fast the doors, and gild myself | |
With some more ducats, and be with you straight. | 50 | |
[Exit JESSICA above] | ||
GRATIANO | Now, by my hood, a Gentile and no Jew. | |
LORENZO | Beshrew me but I love her heartily; | |
For she is wise, if I can judge of her, | ||
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true, | ||
And true she is, as she hath proved herself, | ||
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair and true, | ||
Shall she be placed in my constant soul. | ||
[Enter JESSICA, below] | ||
What, art thou come? On, gentlemen; away! | ||
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. | ||
[Exit LORENZO with JESSICA and SALARINO] | ||
[Enter ANTONIO] | ||
ANTONIO | Who’s there? | 60 |
GRATIANO | Signior Antonio! | |
ANTONIO | 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. | ||
GRATIANO | I am glad on’t: I desire no more delight | |
Than to be under sail and gone to-night. | ||
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
Much difficulty has been experienced in assigning the period of time during which the action of the play is supposed to take place. And this difficulty arises from the circumstance that Shakespeare hurries or retards the apparent lapse of time to suit the need of the given moment, and thus creates a double scale of time. Early in the play we are told that the bond is for three months and that period is infixed in our minds. Moreover Bassanio speaks of having his servants’ liveries “put to making,” which seems to imply a leisurely preparation. On the other hand, his ducats once “pursed,” from other indications Bassanio is all impatience and hurry.
Supper must be ready at latest at five, letters are to be delivered, purchases made and stowed aboard, servants are sent to and fro and bidden “hie thee, away,” and, cutting short the masque, at nine o’clock he will instantly aboard. This lover’s impatience of Bassanio has beguiled one commentator into supposing that but ten hours elapse between the opening of the action and Bassanio’s setting forth to Belmont: a notion obviously false. It will be better for us to note Shakespeare’s art in effecting the illusion of a lapse or a hurry of time than to seek for that mathematical accuracy which has its place, though not in a work of the imagination.
ENDNOTES
1. pent-house, a shed hanging out aslope of the main building.
2. This line, like many others, especially in the earlier work of Shakespeare, is too long, according to the metrical scheme of English blank verse. As a matter of fact, Shakespeare frequently employs, in the midst of the usual lines of five accents, lines which contain six, and which are known as Alexandrines. This is more often to be met where the dialogue is broken (that is, where the line is divided between two speakers) than elsewhere. In such cases we had better follow the advice of Dr. Furness, and “forego the pleasure of adjusting the rhythm of fragments of lines. As long as each fragment is in itself rhythmical, I doubt,” continues the editor of the Variorum Shakespeare, “if Shakespeare troubled himself to piece them together.”
3. out-dwells, outstays.
5. Venus’ pigeons, doves were sacred to Venus, the goddess of beauty. See Tempest, iv. 1. 92:
“I met her deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son
Dove-drawn with her.”
7. obliged, pronounced as three syllables. The termination ed was commonly pronounced in Shakespeare’s day, although sometimes contracted. See below, in this scene, chased, line 13 ; scarfed, line 15; and placed, line 57.
9. sits down [with].
10. untread again, retrace, repeat in reverse order; said to allude to a horse trained to perform tricks, as in a circus.
14. younker, stripling.
15. scarfed bark, ship decked with flags.
17. See Luke, xv. 1 1-32.
18. over-weather’d, weather-beaten.
21. abode, tarrying, stay.
24. I’ll watch as long, etc. This line contains but nine syllables. But the pause after then takes up one of them, and the line becomes perfectly metrical.
This is no uncommon device where there is a change in the thought, as here. Shakespeare, be it repeated, wrote for the ear and not for the eye, nor yet for the fingers. Compare Measure for Measure, ii. 2. 115-117:
30. who love I. Who for whom, as frequently in Shakespeare. This license extended to all the personal pronouns. Compare below, iii. 2. 321: “All debts are cleared between you and I.”
35. exchange, change of costume to that of a boy.
41-50. What, must I, etc. Shames, in modern English shame. They in themselves [i.e. my shames] are only too manifest. Why, [a torch-bearer’s] office [is one] of discovery, for he bears a light; I should be thrown into the dark. There is a play in this passage on both the words light and obscure. Jessica is far more concerned about her appearance in boy’s clothes than about leaving her father and robbing him.
42. too too, the duplication of the adverb for emphasis is very common. Compare Hamlet, i. 2. 1 29: “O, that this too too solid flesh would melt.”
45. garnish, costume.
47. play the runaway, is hurrying away.
47. close, secret.
48. stay’d, awaited.
51. by my hood. Gratiano swears appropriately by the masquerader’s hood with which he is disguised.
51. Gentile, a heathen, with a play on the word gentle, one well born.
52. Beshrew me, dear me, verily.
Scene vii
Belmont. A room in PORTIA’s house. | ||
[ Flourish of cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the PRINCE OF MOROCCO, and their trains ] | ||
PORTIA | Go draw aside the curtains and discover | |
The several caskets to this noble prince. | ||
Now make your choice. | ||
MOROCCO | 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 if I do choose the right? | 10 | |
PORTIA | The one of them contains my picture, prince: | |
If you choose that, then I am yours withal. | ||
MOROCCO | 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 | ||
Do it in hope of fair advantages: | ||
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross; | 20 | |
I’ll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. | ||
What says the silver with her virgin hue? | ||
‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.’ | ||
As much as he deserves! Pause there, Morocco, | ||
And weigh thy value with an even hand: | ||
If thou be’st rated by thy estimation, | ||
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough | ||
May not extend so far as to the lady: | ||
And yet to be afeard of my deserving | ||
Were but a weak disabling of myself. | 30 | |
As much as I deserve! Why, that’s the lady: | ||
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, | ||
In graces and in qualities of breeding; | ||
But more than these, in love I do deserve. | ||
What if I stray’d no further, but chose here? | ||
Let’s see once more this saying graved in gold | ||
‘Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.’ | ||
Why, that’s the lady; all the world desires her; | ||
From the four corners of the earth they come, | ||
To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint: | 40 | |
The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds | ||
Of wide Arabia are as thoroughfares now | ||
For princes to come view fair Portia: | ||
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head | ||
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar | ||
To stop the foreign spirits, but they come, | ||
As o’er a brook, to see fair Portia. | ||
One of these three contains her heavenly picture. | ||
Is’t like that lead contains her? ‘Twere damnation | ||
To think so base a thought: it were too gross | 50 | |
To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave. | ||
Or shall I think in silver she’s immured, | ||
Being ten times undervalued to tried gold? | ||
O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem | ||
Was set in worse than gold. They have in England | ||
A coin that bears the figure of an angel | ||
Stamped in gold, but that’s insculp’d upon; | ||
But here an angel in a golden bed | ||
Lies all within. Deliver me the key: | ||
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may! | 60 | |
PORTIA | There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there, | |
Then I am yours. | ||
[MOROCCO unlocks the golden casket] | ||
MOROCCO | O hell! what have we here? | |
A carrion Death, within whose empty eye | ||
There is a written scroll! I’ll read the writing. | ||
[Reads] | ||
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 enfold. | ||
Had you been as wise as bold, | 70 | |
Young in limbs, in judgment old, | ||
Your answer had not been inscroll’d: | ||
Fare you well; your suit is cold. | ||
Cold, indeed; and labour lost: | ||
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost! | ||
Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart | ||
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. | ||
[Exit MOROCCO with his train. Flourish of cornets] | ||
PORTIA | A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go. | |
Let all of his complexion choose me so. | 79 | |
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
In this scene, the Prince of Morocco proceeds to his choice of the caskets and is discomforted.
ENDNOTES
4. who is occasionally used referring to an inanimate object as its antecedent, as here. Compare Pericles, i. I. 45: “A mirror Who tells us life’s but breath.”
8. blunt, dull.
14. back again, in inverse order.
20. shows, appearances.
30. disabling, depreciation.
40. mortal-breathing, endowed with human life. Compare mortal-living in Richard III, iv. 4. 26.
41. vasty, desolate.
41. Hyrcanian deserts. Hyrcania was a desert region lying south of the Caspian sea.
43. come [to] view. A common idiom. See Hamlet, ii. 1. 101: “I will go seek the king.”
50. it were too gross, etc. It would be too gross a thing to wrap the burial cloths of such a saint in an obscure grave, i.e. in a casket made of so common a substance as lead.
51. rib, cover, wrap.
51. cerecloth, waxed cloth used in burial.
53. undervalued, inferior in value to. Compare above, i. I. 165. At the date of this play the proportionate value of gold to silver was as about ten to one.
56. an angel, was a gold coin worth at most ten shillings; it was so called from the figure of St. Michael slaying the dragon, on one side.
57. insculp’d upon, engraven on the outside of the coin. Here, on the contrary, an angel [the picture of Portia] lies all within the golden bed, [its casket].
59, 60. key … may, a rhyme in Shakespeare’s day.
63. A carrion Death, a skull or death’s head from which the flesh had rotted away.
63. Death, Death’s head.
65. glisters, glitters.
73. your suit is cold. A proverbial expression. Compare The Two Gentlemen of Verona, iv. 4. 186: “I hope my master’s suit will be but cold.”
Scene viii
Venice. A street. | ||
[Enter SALARINO and SALANIO] | ||
SALARINO | Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail: | |
With him is Gratiano gone along; | ||
And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not. | ||
SALANIO | The villain Jew with outcries raised the duke, | |
Who went with him to search Bassanio’s ship. | ||
SALARINO | He came too late, the ship was under sail: | |
But there the duke was given to understand | ||
That in a gondola were seen together | ||
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica: | ||
Besides, Antonio certified the duke | 10 | |
They were not with Bassanio in his ship. | ||
SALANIO | I never heard a passion so confused, | |
So strange, outrageous, and so variable, | ||
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets: | ||
‘My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter! | ||
Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats! | ||
Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter! | ||
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, | ||
Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter! | ||
And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones, | 20 | |
Stolen by my daughter! Justice! find the girl; | ||
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.’ | ||
SALARINO | Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, | |
Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats. | ||
SALANIO | Let good Antonio look he keep his day, | |
Or he shall pay for this. | ||
SALARINO | 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: | 30 | |
I thought upon Antonio when he told me; | ||
And wish’d in silence that it were not his. | ||
SALANIO | You were best to tell Antonio what you hear; | |
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him. | ||
SALARINO | A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. | |
I saw Bassanio and Antonio part: | ||
Bassanio told him he would make some speed | ||
Of his return: he answer’d, ‘Do not so; | ||
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio | ||
But stay the very riping of the time; | 40 | |
And for the Jew’s bond which he hath of me, | ||
Let it not enter in your mind of love: | ||
Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts | ||
To courtship and such fair ostents of love | ||
As shall conveniently become you there:’ | ||
And even there, his eye being big with tears, | ||
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, | ||
And with affection wondrous sensible | ||
He wrung Bassanio’s hand; and so they parted. | ||
SALANIO | I think he only loves the world for him. | 50 |
I pray thee, let us go and find him out | ||
And quicken his embraced heaviness | ||
With some delight or other. | ||
SALARINO | Do we so. | |
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
Notice that in this scene the passionate outburst of Shylock on learning of Jessica’s unfilial conduct is reported by the unsympathetic gallants, Salarino and Salanio, and not represented directly. Are we to believe Salanio’s intimation that Shylock was more grieved at the loss of his ducats than that his daughter should have married a hated Christian? And would a direct representation of Shylock in his despair have drawn too deep a draft on our sympathies for the Jew? The gallants also mention the rumors that Antonio’s ventures may have miscarried, and apprise us of his loving, hearty leave-taking of Bassanio, now well on his happy way to Belmont.
ENDNOTES
10. certified, assured.
12. passion, commotion, passionate outcry. Compare Troilus and Cressida, v. 2. 1 81: “Your passion draws ears hither.”
25. keep his day, be punctual to his day of payment. Note how the unfilial conduct of Jessica, with the loss of his money, is mentioned here as hardening the Jew’s heart against Antonio. Notice also the rumor of misfortune to Antonio’s ships in the next speech.
27. reason’d, conversed with. See above, i. 2. 23.
30. fraught, freighted.
33. You were best to tell. No uncommon idiom for You had better or best tell. Compare 1 Henry VI. v. 3. 82: “I were best to leave him.” This line is readily scanned by regarding You were best as the first foot, either contracted to You’re best; or, better, speedily uttered as in ordinary speech:
39. Slubber, slur over.
40. riping, ripening.
42. mind of love, your loving mind; also explained, “Let me entreat you, of love [i.e. by our mutual love], that you take not the least thought of it.”
44. ostents, shows.
45. conveniently, suitably.
48. affection wondrous sensible, emotion wonderfully sensitive.
52. embraced heaviness, the sadness which has taken hold of him.
Scene ix
Belmont. A room in PORTIA’S house. | ||
[Enter NERISSA with a Servitor] | ||
NERISSA | Quick, quick, I pray thee; draw the curtain straight: | |
The Prince of Arragon hath ta’en his oath, | ||
And comes to his election presently. | ||
[ Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF ARRAGON, PORTIA, and their trains ] | ||
PORTIA | Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince: | |
If you choose that wherein I am contain’d, | ||
Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized: | ||
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, | ||
You must be gone from hence immediately. | ||
ARRAGON | I am enjoin’d by oath to observe three things: | |
First, never to unfold to any one | 10 | |
Which casket ’twas I chose; next, if I fail | ||
Of the right casket, never in my life | ||
To woo a maid in way of marriage: Lastly, | ||
If I do fail in fortune of my choice, | ||
Immediately to leave you and be gone. | ||
PORTIA | To these injunctions every one doth swear | |
That comes to hazard for my worthless self. | ||
ARRAGON | And so have I address’d me. Fortune now | |
To my heart’s hope! Gold; silver; and base lead. | 20 | |
‘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. | 30 | |
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 undeserv’d dignity. | 40 | |
O, that estates, degrees and offices | ||
Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour | ||
Were purchased by the merit of the wearer! | ||
How many then should cover that stand bare! | ||
How many be commanded that command! | ||
How much low peasantry would then be glean’d | ||
From the true seed of honour! and how much honour | ||
Pick’d from the chaff and ruin of the times | ||
To be new-varnish’d! Well, but to my choice: | ||
‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.’ | 50 | |
I will assume desert. Give me a key for this, | ||
And instantly unlock my fortunes here. | ||
[ARRAGON opens the silver casket] | ||
PORTIA | [Aside] Too long a pause for that which you find there. | |
ARRAGON | What’s here? the portrait of a blinking idiot, | |
Presenting me a schedule! I will read it. | ||
How much unlike art thou to Portia! | ||
How much unlike my hopes and my deservings! | ||
‘Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves.’ | ||
Did I deserve no more than a fool’s head? | ||
Is that my prize? are my deserts no better? | 60 | |
PORTIA | To offend, and judge, are distinct offices | |
And of opposed natures. | ||
ARRAGON | What is here? | |
[Reads] | ||
The fire seven times tried this: | ||
Seven times tried that judgment is, | ||
That did never choose amiss. | ||
Some there be that shadows kiss; | ||
Such have but a shadow’s bliss: | ||
There be fools alive, I wis, | ||
Silver’d o’er; and so was this. | ||
Take what wife you will to bed, | 70 | |
I will ever be your head: | ||
So be gone: you are sped. | ||
Still more fool I shall appear | ||
By the time I linger here | ||
With one fool’s head I came to woo, | ||
But I go away with two. | ||
Sweet, adieu. I’ll keep my oath, | ||
Patiently to bear my wroth. | ||
[Exeunt ARRAGON and train] | ||
PORTIA | Thus hath the candle singed the moth. | |
O, these deliberate fools! when they do choose, | 80 | |
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. | ||
NERISSA | The ancient saying is no heresy, | |
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. | ||
PORTIA | Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa. | |
[Enter a Servant] | ||
Servant | Where is my lady? | |
PORTIA | Here: what would my lord? | |
Servant | Madam, there is alighted at your gate | |
A young Venetian, one that comes before | ||
To signify the approaching of his lord; | ||
From whom he bringeth sensible regreets, | ||
To wit, besides commends and courteous breath, | 90 | |
Gifts of rich value. Yet I have not seen | ||
So likely an ambassador of love: | ||
A day in April never came so sweet, | ||
To show how costly summer was at hand, | ||
As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. | ||
PORTIA | No more, I pray thee: I am half afeard | |
Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee, | ||
Thou spend’st such high-day wit in praising him. | ||
Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see | ||
Quick Cupid’s post that comes so mannerly. | 100 | |
NERISSA | Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be! | |
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
This scene represents the discomfiture of another suitor of Portia, the solemn and deliberate Prince of Arragon; and concludes with the heralded arrival of Bassanio.
ENDNOTES
18. to [the] hazard. Compare Henry V. iii. 7. 93.
19. address’d me, prepared myself.
19. Fortune now, etc., may good fortune now attend the hope of my heart.
25. that ‘many’ may be meant By, etc. By was used commonly after the verb to mean, where we should use for.
27. fond, foolish.
28. martlet, swallow.
30. force, power.
32. jump, agree with.
38. cozen, cheat.
43. purchased, acquired, won.
44. cover, wear their hats as maters.
51. I will assume, etc. This line is an Alexandrine, as frequently where the sense is broken. Arragon pauses after desert; and turning to Portia says, “Give me the key for this [the silver casket].”
48. ruin, rubbish.
53. Portia (Aside). This reading, which is approved by Dr. Furness, seems necessary to the preservation of Portia’s kindliness and courtesy of spirit. The lips that uttered the beautiful words on “the quality of mercy” could never have taunted a losing but honest lover to his face in the moment of his defeat. The asides were by no means always marked in the old editions of plays.
61. distinct, accented on the first syllable.
68. i-wis, assuredly.
69. Silver’d o’er. The idiot’s picture was silver’d o’er, being contained in a silver box.
70-71. Marry whom you will, you will always have me, a fool, for your head.
74. By the time, in proportion to the time.
79. singed the moth, evidently rhyming with Arragon’s preceding couplet and in mockery of it.
81. wit, knowledge, power of mind.
85. my lord, a sportive rejoinder to the servant’s deep bow and tone of pompous respect in addressing Portia as “my lady.” It is by the mockery of Portia’s rhyme to the couplet of Arragon, and by this merry answer to her servant that the author makes clear to us how delighted Portia is to have escaped another suitor.
89. sensible regreets, evident salutations. The strange word regreet is used elsewhere. Compare King John, iii. 1. 241: “Unyoke this seizure and this kind regreet.” It is not unlikely that the fine language of the servant is the cause of Portia’s mockery.
91. Yet I have not, I have never yet.
98. high-day wit, holiday terms. Compare The Merry Wives of Windsor, iii. 2. 69: “He writes verses, he speaks holiday.”