45
Scene i
Venice. A street. | ||
[Enter SALANIO and SALARINO] | ||
SALANIO | Now, what news on the Rialto? | |
SALARINO | Why, yet it lives there uncheck’d that Antonio hath | |
a ship of rich lading wrecked on the narrow seas; | ||
the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very | ||
dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcasses of many | ||
a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip | ||
Report be an honest woman of her word. | ||
SALANIO | I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever | |
knapped ginger or made her neighbours believe she | 10 | |
wept for the death of a third husband. But it is | ||
true, without any slips of prolixity or crossing the | ||
plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio, the | ||
honest Antonio,–O that I had a title good enough | ||
to keep his name company!– | ||
SALARINO | Come, the full stop. | |
SALANIO | Ha! what sayest thou? Why, the end is, he hath | |
lost a ship. | ||
SALARINO | I would it might prove the end of his losses. | 21 |
SALANIO | Let me say ‘amen’ betimes, lest the devil cross my | |
prayer, for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. | ||
[Enter SHYLOCK] | ||
How now, Shylock! what news among the merchants? | ||
SHYLOCK | You know, none so well, none so well as you, of my | |
daughter’s flight. | ||
SALARINO | That’s certain: I, for my part, knew the tailor | |
that made the wings she flew withal. | 30 | |
SALANIO | And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was | |
fledged; and then it is the complexion of them all | ||
to leave the dam. | ||
SHYLOCK | She is damned for it. | |
SALANIO | That’s certain, if the devil may be her judge. | |
SHYLOCK | My own flesh and blood to rebel! | |
SALANIO | Out upon it, old carrion! rebels it at these years? | |
SHYLOCK | I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. | |
SALARINO | There is more difference between thy flesh and hers | 41 |
than between jet and ivory; more between your bloods | ||
than there is between red wine and rhenish. But | ||
tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had any | ||
loss at sea or no? | ||
SHYLOCK | There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a | |
prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the | ||
Rialto; a beggar, that was used to come so smug upon | ||
the mart; let him look to his bond: he was wont to | ||
call me usurer; let him look to his bond: he was | 50 | |
wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy; let him | ||
look to his bond. | ||
SALARINO | Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take | |
his flesh: what’s that good for? | ||
SHYLOCK | To bait fish withal: if it will feed nothing else, | |
it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and | ||
hindered me half a million; laughed at my losses, | ||
mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my | ||
bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine | ||
enemies; and what’s his reason? I am a Jew. Hath | 60 | |
not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, | ||
dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with | ||
the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject | ||
to the same diseases, healed by the same means, | ||
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as | ||
a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? | ||
if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison | ||
us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not | ||
revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will | ||
resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, | 70 | |
what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian | ||
wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by | ||
Christian example? Why, revenge. The villany you | ||
teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I | ||
will better the instruction. | ||
[Enter a Servant] | ||
Servant | Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house and | |
desires to speak with you both. | ||
SALARINO | We have been up and down to seek him. | |
[Enter TUBAL] | ||
SALANIO | Here comes another of the tribe: a third cannot be | 80 |
matched, unless the devil himself turn Jew. | ||
[Exit SALANIO, SALARINO, and Servant] | ||
SHYLOCK | How now, Tubal! what news from Genoa? hast thou | |
found my daughter? | ||
TUBAL | I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her. | |
SHYLOCK | Why, there, there, there, there! a diamond gone, | |
cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse | ||
never fell upon our nation till now; I never felt it | ||
till now: two thousand ducats in that; and other | 90 | |
precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter | ||
were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear! | ||
would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats in | ||
her coffin! No news of them? Why, so: and I know | ||
not what’s spent in the search: why, thou loss upon | ||
loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to | ||
find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge: | ||
nor no in luck stirring but what lights on my | ||
shoulders; no sighs but of my breathing; no tears | ||
but of my shedding. | 101 | |
TUBAL | Yes, other men have ill luck too: Antonio, as I | |
heard in Genoa,– | ||
SHYLOCK | What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck? | |
TUBAL | Hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis. | |
SHYLOCK | I thank God, I thank God. Is’t true, is’t true? | |
TUBAL | I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck. | 110 |
SHYLOCK | I thank thee, good Tubal: good news, good news! | |
ha, ha! where? in Genoa? | ||
TUBAL | Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in one | |
night fourscore ducats. | ||
SHYLOCK | Thou stickest a dagger in me: I shall never see my | |
gold again: fourscore ducats at a sitting! | ||
fourscore ducats! | ||
TUBAL | There came divers of Antonio’s creditors in my | |
company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break. | 120 | |
SHYLOCK | I am very glad of it: I’ll plague him; I’ll torture | |
him: I am glad of it. | ||
TUBAL | One of them showed me a ring that he had of your | |
daughter for a monkey. | ||
SHYLOCK | Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal: it was my | |
turquoise; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor: | ||
I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys. | ||
TUBAL | But Antonio is certainly undone. | |
SHYLOCK | Nay, that’s true, that’s very true. Go, Tubal, fee | 130 |
me an officer; bespeak him a fortnight before. I | ||
will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for, were | ||
he out of Venice, I can make what merchandise I | ||
will. Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue; | ||
go, good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal. | ||
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
The rumors of Antonio’s losses grow more frequent and circumstantial. Shylock is torn apart with rage at Jessica’s reported extravagance with his long-hoarded wealth, and with malignant joy as he hears of Antonio’s misfortunes and impatiently awaits the forfeit of his bond.
ENDNOTES
2. it lives there unchecked, the rumor is current there uncontradicted.
4. the narrow seas [or sea], a usual term for the English Channel. The Goodwins, I think they call the place. Goodwin Sands, off the coast of Kent. Notice how Salarino’s doubt as to the precise name of the place in which Antonio’s ships have come to grief upholds the illusion that we are in Venice, a place remote from England.
10. knapped, broke into small pieces.
30. the wings she flew withal, the boy’s clothing in which she eloped with Lorenzo.
46. match, bargain.
49. smug, trim, neat.
56. disgraced me, lowered me in public estimation.
57. hindered me [from gaining] half a million [of ducats].
62. affections, emotions caused by external objects, as contrasted with passions, feelings due to emotions within.
63. [Is he not] fed with, etc. Observe how the pathos of the Jew’s despised life strengthens Shylock’s hold on our sympathies at the very moment when the sense of Antonio’s disaster is growing upon us.
72. humility, humanity.
81. cannot be matched, cannot be found to match them.
83. what news from Genoa? This question suggests the lapse of some time since the elopement of Jessica, precisely as the vehemence of Shylock’s words to Salanio and Salarino at the beginning of the scene produces the opposite effect of an apparently brief period since that event.
88. cost, that cost.
89. Frankfort on the Main, famous throughout the Middle Ages for its commercial fairs.
105. from Tripolis. This argosy is mentioned above, i. 3. 18.
112. here? in Genoa? i.e. known here [in Italy]? in Genoa? The emendation where for here seems unnecessary.
126. my turquoise. The turquoise was often given as a pledge of love, because it was supposed to maintain or change its brilliancy of color in accordance with the faithfulness or infidelity of the wearer, besides possessing other miraculous qualities. This touch of human affection in Shylock at the moment when he is raving over the extravagance and ingratitude of Jessica can never be overpraised.
131. fee me an officer, engage an officer for me [to arrest Antonio the moment his bond is forfeited].
135. “Shakespeare,” says one critic, “probably intended to add another shade of darkness to the character of Shylock, by making him still formally devout while meditating his horrible vengeance.” Another remarks on this passage: “The Jew invokes the Ancient of Days, who spoke unto Moses aforetime: ‘If a man cause a blemish in his neighbor; as he hath done, so shall it be done to him; breach for breach, eye for eye, tooth for tooth; as he hath caused a blemish in a man, so shall it be done to him again.’ In entering his synagogue Shylock intrusts his hatred to the safeguard of his faith. Henceforward his vengeance assumes a consecrated character.” It is one of the marvels of Shakespeare’s power of characterization that we differ about the characters of his personages as we differ about the characters of real people whom we personally know.
Scene ii
Belmont. A room in PORTIA’S house. | ||
[ Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and Attendants ] | ||
PORTIA | I pray you, tarry: pause a day or two | |
Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong, | ||
I lose your company: therefore forbear awhile. | ||
There’s something tells me, but it is not love, | ||
I would not lose you; and you know yourself, | ||
Hate counsels not in such a quality. | ||
But lest you should not understand me well,– | ||
And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,– | ||
I would detain you here some month or two | ||
Before you venture for me. I could teach you | 10 | |
How to choose right, but I am then forsworn; | ||
So will I never be: so may you miss me; | ||
But if you do, you’ll make me wish a sin, | ||
That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, | ||
They have o’erlook’d me and divided me; | ||
One half of me is yours, the other half yours, | ||
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, | ||
And so all yours. O, these naughty times | ||
Put bars between the owners and their rights! | ||
And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so, | 20 | |
Let fortune go to hell for it, not I. | ||
I speak too long; but ’tis to peize the time, | ||
To eke it and to draw it out in length, | ||
To stay you from election. | ||
BASSANIO | Let me choose | |
For as I am, I live upon the rack. | ||
PORTIA | Upon the rack, Bassanio! then confess | |
What treason there is mingled with your love. | ||
BASSANIO | None but that ugly treason of mistrust, | |
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love: | ||
There may as well be amity and life | 30 | |
‘Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. | ||
PORTIA | Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack, | |
Where men enforced do speak anything. | ||
BASSANIO | Promise me life, and I’ll confess the truth. | |
PORTIA | Well then, confess and live. | |
BASSANIO | ‘Confess’ and ‘love’ | |
Had been the very sum of my confession: | ||
O happy torment, when my torturer | ||
Doth teach me answers for deliverance! | ||
But let me to my fortune and the caskets. | ||
PORTIA | Away, then! I am lock’d in one of them: | 40 |
If you do love me, you will find me out. | ||
Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof. | ||
Let music sound while he doth make his choice; | ||
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end, | ||
Fading in music: that the comparison | ||
May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream | ||
And watery death-bed for him. He may win; | ||
And what is music then? Then music is | ||
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow | ||
To a new-crowned monarch: such it is | 50 | |
As are those dulcet sounds in break of day | ||
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom’s ear, | ||
And summon him to marriage. Now he goes, | ||
With no less presence, but with much more love, | ||
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem | ||
The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy | ||
To the sea-monster: I stand for sacrifice | ||
The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives, | ||
With bleared visages, come forth to view | ||
The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules! | 60 | |
Live thou, I live: with much, much more dismay | ||
I view the fight than thou that makest the fray. | ||
[Music, whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to himself] | ||
SONG. | ||
Tell me where is fancy bred, | ||
Or in the heart, or in the head? | ||
How begot, how nourished? | ||
Reply, reply. | ||
It is engender’d in the eyes, | ||
With gazing fed; and fancy dies | ||
In the cradle where it lies. | ||
Let us all ring fancy’s knell | 70 | |
I’ll begin it,–Ding, dong, bell. | ||
ALL | Ding, dong, bell. | |
BASSANIO | So may the outward shows be least themselves: | |
The world is still deceived with ornament. | ||
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, | ||
But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, | ||
Obscures the show of evil? In religion, | ||
What damned error, but some sober brow | ||
Will bless it and approve it with a text, | ||
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? | 80 | |
There is no vice so simple but assumes | ||
Some mark of virtue on his outward parts: | ||
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false | ||
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins | ||
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars; | ||
Who, inward search’d, have livers white as milk; | ||
And these assume but valour’s excrement | ||
To render them redoubted! Look on beauty, | ||
And you shall see ’tis purchased by the weight; | ||
Which therein works a miracle in nature, | 90 | |
Making them lightest that wear most of it: | ||
So are those crisped snaky golden locks | ||
Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, | ||
Upon supposed fairness, often known | ||
To be the dowry of a second head, | ||
The skull that bred them in the sepulchre. | ||
Thus ornament is but the guiled shore | ||
To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf | ||
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word, | ||
The seeming truth which cunning times put on | 100 | |
To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold, | ||
Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee; | ||
Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge | ||
‘Tween man and man: but thou, thou meagre lead, | ||
Which rather threatenest than dost promise aught, | ||
Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence; | ||
And here choose I; joy be the consequence! | ||
PORTIA | [Aside] How all the other passions fleet to air, | |
As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, | ||
And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy! O love, | 110 | |
Be moderate; allay thy ecstasy, | ||
In measure rein thy joy; scant this excess. | ||
I feel too much thy blessing: make it less, | ||
For fear I surfeit. | ||
BASSANIO | What find I here? | |
[Opening the leaden casket] | ||
Fair Portia’s counterfeit! What demi-god | ||
Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes? | ||
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, | ||
Seem they in motion? Here are sever’d lips, | ||
Parted with sugar breath: so sweet a bar | ||
Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs | 120 | |
The painter plays the spider and hath woven | ||
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men, | ||
Faster than gnats in cobwebs; but her eyes,– | ||
How could he see to do them? having made one, | ||
Methinks it should have power to steal both his | ||
And leave itself unfurnish’d. Yet look, how far | ||
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow | ||
In underprizing it, so far this shadow | ||
Doth limp behind the substance. Here’s the scroll, | 130 | |
The continent and summary of my fortune. | ||
[Reads] | ||
You that choose not by the view, | ||
Chance as fair and choose as true! | ||
Since this fortune falls to you, | ||
Be content and seek no new, | ||
If you be well pleased with this | ||
And hold your fortune for your bliss, | ||
Turn you where your lady is | ||
And claim her with a loving kiss. | ||
A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave; | 140 | |
I come by note, to give and to receive. | ||
Like one of two contending in a prize, | ||
That thinks he hath done well in people’s eyes, | ||
Hearing applause and universal shout, | ||
Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt | ||
Whether these pearls of praise be his or no; | ||
So, thrice fair lady, stand I, even so; | ||
As doubtful whether what I see be true, | ||
Until confirm’d, sign’d, ratified by you. | ||
PORTIA | You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand, | |
Such as I am: though for myself alone | 151 | |
I would not be ambitious in my wish, | ||
To wish myself much better; yet, for you | ||
I would be trebled twenty times myself; | ||
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich; | ||
That only to stand high in your account, | ||
I might in virtue, beauties, livings, friends, | ||
Exceed account; but the full sum of me | ||
Is sum of something, which, to term in gross, | 160 | |
Is an unlesson’d girl, unschool’d, unpractised; | ||
Happy in this, she is not yet so old | ||
But she may learn; happier than this, | ||
She is not bred so dull but she can learn; | ||
Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit | ||
Commits itself to yours to be directed, | ||
As from her lord, her governor, her king. | ||
Myself and what is mine to you and yours | ||
Is now converted: but now I was the lord | ||
Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, | 170 | |
Queen o’er myself: and even now, but now, | ||
This house, these servants and this same myself | ||
Are yours, my lord: I give them with this ring; | ||
Which when you part from, lose, or give away, | ||
Let it presage the ruin of your love | ||
And be my vantage to exclaim on you. | ||
BASSANIO | Madam, you have bereft me of all words, | |
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins; | ||
And there is such confusion in my powers, | ||
As after some oration fairly spoke | 180 | |
By a beloved prince, there doth appear | ||
Among the buzzing pleased multitude; | ||
Where every something, being blent together, | ||
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy, | ||
Express’d and not express’d. But when this ring | ||
Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence: | ||
O, then be bold to say Bassanio’s dead! | ||
NERISSA | My lord and lady, it is now our time, | |
That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper, | ||
To cry, good joy: good joy, my lord and lady! | 190 | |
GRATIANO | My lord Bassanio and my gentle lady, | |
I wish you all the joy that you can wish; | ||
For I am sure you can wish none from me: | ||
And when your honours mean to solemnize | ||
The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you, | ||
Even at that time I may be married too. | ||
BASSANIO | With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife. | |
GRATIANO | I thank your lordship, you have got me one. | |
My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours: | ||
You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid; | 200 | |
You loved, I loved for intermission. | ||
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. | ||
Your fortune stood upon the casket there, | ||
And so did mine too, as the matter falls; | ||
For wooing here until I sweat again, | ||
And sweating until my very roof was dry | ||
With oaths of love, at last, if promise last, | ||
I got a promise of this fair one here | ||
To have her love, provided that your fortune | ||
Achieved her mistress. | ||
PORTIA | Is this true, Nerissa? | 210 |
NERISSA | Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal. | |
BASSANIO | And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith? | |
GRATIANO | Yes, faith, my lord. | |
BASSANIO | Our feast shall be much honour’d in your marriage. | |
GRATIANO | We’ll play with them the first boy for a thousand ducats. | |
NERISSA | What, and stake down? | |
GRATIANO | No; we shall ne’er win at that sport, and stake down. | |
But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel? What, | ||
and my old Venetian friend Salerio? | 220 | |
[ Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO, a Messenger from Venice ] | ||
BASSANIO | Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither; | |
If that the youth of my new interest here | ||
Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave, | ||
I bid my very friends and countrymen, | ||
Sweet Portia, welcome. | ||
PORTIA | So do I, my lord: | |
They are entirely welcome. | ||
LORENZO | I thank your honour. For my part, my lord, | |
My purpose was not to have seen you here; | 230 | |
But meeting with Salerio by the way, | ||
He did entreat me, past all saying nay, | ||
To come with him along. | ||
SALERIO | I did, my lord; | |
And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio | ||
Commends him to you. | ||
[Gives BASSANIO a letter] | ||
BASSANIO | Ere I ope his letter, | |
I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth. | ||
SALERIO | Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind; | |
Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there | ||
Will show you his estate. | ||
GRATIANO | Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome. | 240 |
Your hand, Salerio: what’s the news from Venice? | ||
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio? | ||
I know he will be glad of our success; | ||
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece. | ||
SALERIO | I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost. | |
PORTIA | There are some shrewd contents in yon same paper, | |
That steals the colour from Bassanio’s cheek: | ||
Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world | ||
Could turn so much the constitution | ||
Of any constant man. What, worse and worse! | ||
With leave, Bassanio: I am half yourself, | 251 | |
And I must freely have the half of anything | ||
That this same paper brings you. | ||
BASSANIO | O sweet Portia, | |
Here are a few of the unpleasant’st words | ||
That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, | ||
When I did first impart my love to you, | ||
I freely told you, all the wealth I had | ||
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman; | ||
And then I told you true: and yet, dear lady, | ||
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see | 260 | |
How much I was a braggart. When I told you | ||
My state was nothing, I should then have told you | ||
That I was worse than nothing; for, indeed, | ||
I have engaged myself to a dear friend, | ||
Engaged my friend to his mere enemy, | ||
To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady; | ||
The paper as the body of my friend, | ||
And every word in it a gaping wound, | ||
Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salerio? | ||
Have all his ventures fail’d? What, not one hit? | ||
From Tripolis, from Mexico and England, | 271 | |
From Lisbon, Barbary and India? | ||
And not one vessel ‘scape the dreadful touch | ||
Of merchant-marring rocks? | ||
SALERIO | Not one, my lord. | |
Besides, it should appear, that if he had | ||
The present money to discharge the Jew, | ||
He would not take it. Never did I know | ||
A creature, that did bear the shape of man, | ||
So keen and greedy to confound a man: | ||
He plies the duke at morning and at night, | ||
And doth impeach the freedom of the state, | 280 | |
If they deny him justice: twenty merchants, | ||
The duke himself, and the magnificoes | ||
Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him; | ||
But none can drive him from the envious plea | ||
Of forfeiture, of justice and his bond. | ||
JESSICA | When I was with him I have heard him swear | |
To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen, | ||
That he would rather have Antonio’s flesh | ||
Than twenty times the value of the sum | ||
That he did owe him: and I know, my lord, | 290 | |
If law, authority and power deny not, | ||
It will go hard with poor Antonio. | ||
PORTIA | Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble? | |
BASSANIO | The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, | |
The best-condition’d and unwearied spirit | ||
In doing courtesies, and one in whom | ||
The ancient Roman honour more appears | ||
Than any that draws breath in Italy. | ||
PORTIA | What sum owes he the Jew? | |
BASSANIO | For me three thousand ducats. | |
PORTIA | What, no more? | 300 |
Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond; | ||
Double six thousand, and then treble that, | ||
Before a friend of this description | ||
Shall lose a hair through Bassanio’s fault. | ||
First go with me to church and call me wife, | ||
And then away to Venice to your friend; | ||
For never shall you lie by Portia’s side | ||
With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold | ||
To pay the petty debt twenty times over: | ||
When it is paid, bring your true friend along. | 310 | |
My maid Nerissa and myself meantime | ||
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away! | ||
For you shall hence upon your wedding-day: | ||
Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer: | ||
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. | ||
But let me hear the letter of your friend. | ||
BASSANIO | [Reads] Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all | |
miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is | ||
very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since | ||
in paying it, it is impossible I should live, all | 320 | |
debts are cleared between you and I, if I might but | ||
see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your | ||
pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, | ||
let not my letter. | ||
PORTIA | O love, dispatch all business, and be gone! | |
BASSANIO | Since I have your good leave to go away, | |
I will make haste: but, till I come again, | ||
No bed shall e’er be guilty of my stay, | ||
No rest be interposer ‘twixt us twain. | ||
[Exeunt} |
Key Takeaways
Much has happened since the departure of Bassanio. At Belmont, the stately Prince of Morocco has made his choice and failed, and the solemn Arragon has followed with no better fate. In Venice Shylock, maddened by his double loss, has raged through the streets, a rabble of boys at his heels, and Tubal has had time to search for the runaways as far as Genoa and back. Rumors, too, of Antonio’s losses on distant seas are reported at Venice. On the other hand, although Portia’s words, – those of a maiden more than half won, – preclude our thinking of Bassanio as exactly “fresh from Venice” on the opening of this scene, such impetuosity as his, for he “lives upon the rack,” we feel cannot have permitted a long postponement of his choice, and we are lured away from the thought of Tubal’s search and a rumor slowly making its way across the continent of Europe from Goodwin Sands to the contemplation of a lapse of time that could not have exceeded a few days. Compare with this the concluding note on Act II, Scene VI.
In the present scene, Portia desires Bassanio to “tarry” for fear he chooses wrong; but Bassanio is impatient to know his fate, and choosing the leaden casket finds therein “fair Portia’s counterfeit.” Portia is thus doubly won, by the terms of her father’s will and by the promptings of her own heart. Meanwhile, Gratiano has gained Nerissa to consent to marry him if Bassanio’s choice shall prove fortunate. So that both couples are happy in Bassanio’s success. At this moment, the climax of the story of the caskets, Lorenzo and Jessica arrive with a messenger from Venice by whom it appears that all of Antonio’s ventures by sea have failed, his bond has been forfeited, and he lies in prison awaiting the supreme exaction of the Jew.
ENDNOTES
2. in [the event of your] choosing wrong.
7-10. Portia is anxious that Bassanio may not choose hastily. She is deeply in love with him, but “yet a maiden hath no tongue but thoughts” [i.e. it becomes her not to tell him so]; and she wishes simply to detain him, at first a day or two, which rises in her eagerness to a month or two. But she is equally concerned lest Bassanio mistake her attitude for an unmaidenly declaration of love.
14. Beshrew, a very mild imprecation, “Woe to your eyes.”
20, 21. These lines, which offer an excellent illustration of the extreme pregnancy of Shakespeare’s thought, have been explained: “If it prove that I, who am yours by affection, am not yours owing to your unlucky choice of casket, Fortune ought to suffer the penalty, not I; and yet to lose you will be hell for me.”
29. fear [for] the enjoying, doubt if I shall enjoy.
30, 31. There may … as [between] treason and my love.
35. ‘Confess‘ and ‘love,’ love is the sum total of my confession.
44. swan-like end, in allusion to the popular belief that the swan sings before its death. Shakespeare is fond of the allusion; see Othello, v. 2. 247; and King John, v. 7. 21.
49. The moment of crowning an English sovereign is heralded by a flourish of trumpets. Some critics have sought to date this play, 1594, because of this, a supposed allusion to the crowning of Henry of Navarre in that year.
52. The bridegroom was thus awakened by the musicians engaged to accompany him to the bride’s house.
55. young Alcides. Hercules rescued Hesione who, as a virgin tribute to appease the wrath of Neptune, had been chained to a rock by her father, Laomedon, to be devoured by a sea-monster. But Bassanio approaches his perilous undertaking with much more love [line 54], because Hercules was urged to his exploit not for love of the lady, but for the horses which Laomedon had promised him. The whole similitude in which Bassanio is likened to young Alcides, Portia to Hesione, the virgin tribute, and Portia’s attendants to the Dardanian wives [women, the descendants of Dardanus, the ancestor of the Trojans], is full of the spirit of Greek story.
61. Live thou [if thou live], I live. The subjunctive is not infrequently indicated by placing the verb before its subject. The line is perfectly metrical without doubling the word much.
63. fancy is often synonymous with love. See Much Ado About Nothing, iii. 2. 31-32. Here, however, fancy is affection bred by the sight; and neither the product of the heart nor the head. Did Portia unconsciously break her oath in providing that this song be sung? Or did Nerissa? She had openly praised Bassanio (i. 2. 129-131). The maid in one of Shakespeare’s possible sources, Il Pecarone, gave the lover a hint.
73. the outward shows [of things] be least [like the things] themselves.
82. his, the old neuter of the possessive pronoun it or hit. Its is found only toward the end of the sixteenth century. Its appears in no work of Shakespeare’s published in his lifetime, although the form occurs ten times in the folio, usually in the spelling it’s.
86. livers white as milk. Compare 2 Henry IV. iv. 3. 113: “The liver white and pale, which is the badge of pusillanimity and cowardice.”
87. excrement, a word often applied to the hair. See The Winter’s Tale, iv. 4. 733: “Let me pocket up my pedler’s excrement. [ Takes off his false beard.]”
88. beauty, that is, mere beauty. Notice the usual Shakespearean play on the words weight and light.
92-96. those crisped snaky golden locks … bred … in the sepulchre. Shakespeare expresses much the same thought in Sonnet lxviii. The fashion among women of wearing wigs had become very common toward the end of Elizabeth’s reign.
94. Upon supposed fairness, “on the strength of their fictitious beauty.” Compare 3 Henry VI, iii. 3. 223: “And tell false Edward, thy supposed king.”
99. an Indian beauty, a woman that an Indian might consider a beauty.
102. Midas, the foolish Phrygian king, who asked that everything that he touched might be turned to gold; and, his wish granted, nearly perished of hunger.
106. paleness, as Bassanio has already called silver pale, plainness has been suggested as the right reading, thus bringing out a contrast with eloquence. As, however, lead is frequently described as pale, this reading of all the old editions should be preserved.
109. As, such as, as namely.
112. rain thy joy. Compare 1 Henry IV, v. 1. 47: “It rain’d down fortune showering on your head.” Rein is an inferior reading.
117. Or whether. Whether is sometimes used after or where we should omit one of the two. Compare Coriolanus, i. 3. 69: “Or whether his fall enraged him, or how ’twas.”
120. hairs. Used in the plural in Shakespeare’s day. Compare King John, iii. 4. 66: “Bind up your hairs.”
124. having made one. We expect a verb agreeing with this clause to follow; but in the hurry of Bassanio’s rapturous speech the construction is not carried out. Such examples of colloquial phraseology in Shakespeare, far from being blemishes, add greatly to the dramatic quality of his dialogue.
126. unfurnished, unmatched with its fellow eye.
126, 128. how far … so far, in modern English as … so.
140. Notice how Bassanio’s delight and exaltation of spirit at his success is expressed in the continuance after the “scroll” of rhyming lines; and how Portia’s succeeding lines, in their deep seriousness, drop back into blank verse.
141. I come by note [in accordance with the scroll or warrant just read] to give [a kiss] and to receive [you, the lady].
145. Broken as this line is, it is not unmetrical; spirit may have been pronounced as one syllable.
160. sum of – nothing. Preferable to the reading something, of equally good authority, because it conforms more with the negations (unlesson’d, unschool’d, unpractised) that follow, and is more in accord with the careless, happy depreciation of herself which characterizes Portia’s whole speech.
162. Happy in this. The old editions all read “Happiest is this,” explained by regarding Happiest as neuter, the happiest of all is (it or this), etc. The emendation in preserves the construction; happy in this … happier than this … happiest of all in, etc.
173. this ring. The giving of a ring as a token of fidelity is of frequent occurrence in the old drama. See Romeo and Juliet, iii. 2. 142. The employment of the device of the episode of Portia’s ring to lighten the gravity of the ending of this comedy is one of the happiest examples of Shakespeare’s consummate dramatic skill.
176. vantage, the position of one who is master of the situation. To exclaim on one is to complain of one’s conduct. For vantage, see Hamlet, v. 2. 401; for exclaim on, see 1 Henry VI, v. 3. 134.
185. Express’d and not express’d, expressed in inarticulate sounds.
193. none from me, none different from me, none which I do not wish you.
200. the maid. Nerissa was in no respect a servant. She was doubtless as well born, though not as rich, as Portia herself; and bore the same relation of friendship and companionship to Portia that Gratiano, a gentleman by birth, bore to his friend Bassanio.
214. shall be, in modern English will be.
223. A question has been raised as to why Jessica receives no welcome from Portia. This is only apparent. General salutations between the two parties take place while Bassanio is speaking; but the importance of Lorenzo’s message to Bassanio usurps the place which mere courtesies might otherwise occupy. Portia being engaged in the interest which Antonio’s letter excites, Gratiano (in line 240) calls Nerissa to the charge of Jessica.
232. past all saying nay, beyond the possibility of refusal.
240-253. The dialogue of these lines is carried on while Bassanio is reading Antonio’s letter.
242. royal, a term applied to the wealthy and powerful Italian merchants who aided kingdoms with their funds, and often held mortgages on them. The Medici and the Pozzi in Italy, the Fuggers in Germany, and Sir Thomas Gresham in England were merchants of this type. The term here conveys no more than a complimentary allusion to Antonio’s wealth.
252. And I must freely have the half of anything, an Alexandrine line, scan it how we will. There is no reason why we should not acknowledge frankly that, intentionally or inadvertently, Shakespeare frequently uses the Alexandrine in single lines in his dramatic verse.
275. it should appear. This use of shall is much like the German sollen, which means is to and not quite ought.
280. And doth impeach the freedom of the state, denies that those, like himself not natives of Venice, have equal rights there if, etc. See below, iv. 1. 38: “If you deny it, let the danger light Upon your charter and your city’s freedom.”
282. magnificoes, the chief men of Venice were so called.
295. unwearied, that is most unwearied, the superlative is communicated from the words kindest and best-condition’d. Compare above, ii. 1. 46: “To make me blest or cursed’st among men.”
304. thorough, through, as often spelled.
315. Since you are dear bought [with all the anxiety that I have suffered while your fate as a suitor hung in the balance].
321. between you and I. This is so common as to amount to an Elizabethan idiom. Compare above, ii. 6. 30. None of the old copies indicate that Bassanio reads this letter, and yet, as Portia asks to “hear the letter of your friend,” the assignment of the reading to Bassanio seems proper. Dr. Furness finely suggests that Bassanio read until the words, “If I might see you at my death,” and his voice failing him from emotion, that Portia finish the reading, and passionately add without pause: “O love, despatch all business and be gone!”
Scene iii
Venice. A street. | ||
[Enter SHYLOCK, SALARINO, ANTONIO, and Gaoler] | ||
SHYLOCK | Gaoler, look to him: tell not me of mercy; | |
This is the fool that lent out money gratis: | ||
Gaoler, look to him. | ||
ANTONIO | Hear me yet, good Shylock. | |
SHYLOCK | I’ll have my bond; speak not against my bond: | |
I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond. | ||
Thou call’dst me dog before thou hadst a cause; | ||
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs: | ||
The duke shall grant me justice. I do wonder, | ||
Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond | ||
To come abroad with him at his request. | 10 | |
ANTONIO | I pray thee, hear me speak. | |
SHYLOCK | I’ll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak: | |
I’ll have my bond; and therefore speak no more. | ||
I’ll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, | ||
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield | ||
To Christian intercessors. Follow not; | ||
I’ll have no speaking: I will have my bond. | ||
[Exit SHYLOCK] | ||
SALARINO | It is the most impenetrable cur | |
That ever kept with men. | ||
ANTONIO | Let him alone: | |
I’ll follow him no more with bootless prayers. | 20 | |
He seeks my life; his reason well I know: | ||
I oft deliver’d from his forfeitures | ||
Many that have at times made moan to me; | ||
Therefore he hates me. | ||
SALARINO | I am sure the duke | |
Will never grant this forfeiture to hold. | ||
ANTONIO | The duke cannot deny the course of law: | |
For the commodity that strangers have | ||
With us in Venice, if it be denied, | ||
Will much impeach the justice of his state; | ||
Since that the trade and profit of the city | 30 | |
Consisteth of all nations. Therefore, go: | ||
These griefs and losses have so bated me, | ||
That I shall hardly spare a pound of flesh | ||
To-morrow to my bloody creditor. | ||
Well, gaoler, on. Pray God, Bassanio come | ||
To see me pay his debt, and then I care not! | ||
[Exeunt] |
ENDNOTES
9. naughty, worthless.
9. fond, foolish.
14. dull-eyed, wanting in perception.
19. kept, associated.
23. made moan, complained.
25. grant this forfeiture to hold, allow it to hold good.
26. deny the course of law, refuse to let the law take its course.
27, 28. For the commodity that strangers have [that is the right to trade and the assurance of legal protection in their bargains] … if it [this right] be denied, it [this denial] will, etc. By others the word it is made to refer to the course of law, and a comma is placed after law, in line 26.
32. bated, reduced, lowered.
Scene iv
Belmont. A room in PORTIA’S house. | ||
[ Enter PORTIA, NERISSA, LORENZO, JESSICA, and BALTHASAR ] | ||
LORENZO | Madam, although I speak it in your presence, | |
You have a noble and a true conceit | ||
Of godlike amity; which appears most strongly | ||
In bearing thus the absence of your lord. | ||
But if you knew to whom you show this honour, | ||
How true a gentleman you send relief, | ||
How dear a lover of my lord your husband, | ||
I know you would be prouder of the work | ||
Than customary bounty can enforce you. | ||
PORTIA | I never did repent for doing good, | 10 |
Nor shall not now: for in companions | ||
That do converse and waste the time together, | ||
Whose souls do bear an equal yoke Of love, | ||
There must be needs a like proportion | ||
Of lineaments, of manners and of spirit; | ||
Which makes me think that this Antonio, | ||
Being the bosom lover of my lord, | ||
Must needs be like my lord. If it be so, | ||
How little is the cost I have bestow’d | ||
In purchasing the semblance of my soul | 20 | |
From out the state of hellish misery! | ||
This comes too near the praising of myself; | ||
Therefore no more of it: hear other things. | ||
Lorenzo, I commit into your hands | ||
The husbandry and manage of my house | ||
Until my lord’s return: for mine own part, | ||
I have toward heaven breathed a secret vow | ||
To live in prayer and contemplation, | ||
Only attended by Nerissa here, | ||
Until her husband and my lord’s return: | 30 | |
There is a monastery two miles off; | ||
And there will we abide. I do desire you | ||
Not to deny this imposition; | ||
The which my love and some necessity | ||
Now lays upon you. | ||
LORENZO | Madam, with all my heart; | |
I shall obey you in all fair commands. | ||
PORTIA | My people do already know my mind, | |
And will acknowledge you and Jessica | ||
In place of Lord Bassanio and myself. | 40 | |
And so farewell, till we shall meet again. | ||
LORENZO | Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you! | |
JESSICA | I wish your ladyship all heart’s content. | |
PORTIA | I thank you for your wish, and am well pleased | |
To wish it back on you: fare you well Jessica. | ||
[Exeunt JESSICA and LORENZO] | ||
Now, Balthasar, | ||
As I have ever found thee honest-true, | ||
So let me find thee still. Take this same letter, | ||
And use thou all the endeavour of a man | ||
In speed to Padua: see thou render this | ||
Into my cousin’s hand, Doctor Bellario; | 50 | |
And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee, | ||
Bring them, I pray thee, with imagined speed | ||
Unto the tranect, to the common ferry | ||
Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words, | ||
But get thee gone: I shall be there before thee. | ||
BALTHASAR | Madam, I go with all convenient speed. | |
[Exit BALTHASAR] | ||
PORTIA | Come on, Nerissa; I have work in hand | |
That you yet know not of: we’ll see our husbands | ||
Before they think of us. | ||
NERISSA | Shall they see us? | |
PORTIA | They shall, Nerissa; but in such a habit, | 60 |
That they shall think we are accomplished | ||
With that we lack. I’ll hold thee any wager, | ||
When we are both accoutred like young men, | ||
I’ll prove the prettier fellow of the two, | ||
And wear my dagger with the braver grace, | ||
And speak between the change of man and boy | ||
With a reed voice, and turn two mincing steps | ||
Into a manly stride, and speak of frays | ||
Like a fine bragging youth, and tell quaint lies, | ||
How honourable ladies sought my love, | 70 | |
Which I denying, they fell sick and died; | ||
I could not do withal; then I’ll repent, | ||
And wish for all that, that I had not killed them; | ||
And twenty of these puny lies I’ll tell, | ||
That men shall swear I have discontinued school | ||
Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind | ||
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks, | ||
Which I will practise. | ||
NERISSA | Why, shall we turn to men? | |
PORTIA | Fie, what a question’s that, | |
If thou wert near a lewd interpreter! | ||
But come, I’ll tell thee all my whole device | ||
When I am in my coach, which stays for us | 82 | |
At the park gate; and therefore haste away, | ||
For we must measure twenty miles to-day. | ||
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
Portia intrusts her house to the keeping of Lorenzo and Jessica, and, giving it out that she intends to retire with Nerissa to a neighboring monastery until their plighted lords’ return, sends a messenger to her cousin Bellario, and tells Nerissa of her plan to visit Venice in disguise.
ENDNOTES
6. [To] How true a gentleman, the dative case. In modern English we use the dative only when it comes between the verb and its object: “You send your friend money.”
7. lover. This word was commonly used of friendship between men. See Coriolanus, v. 2. 14: “Thy general is my lover.”
9. customary bounty [your ordinary benevolence] can enforce you [to be].
11. Nor shall not. The double negative as above, i. 2. 28.
15. lineaments, features.
22. the praising of myself. “The frequently precedes a verbal that is followed by an object” (Abbott).
25. husbandry, stewardship.
34. The which. See above, i. 3. 4, and note thereon.
34. my love and some necessity Now lays. Note the singular verb with two subjects.
49. Padua, famous for the learned jurists of its university.
52. with imagined speed, such as can only be thought. Compare Henry V, iii. prologue: “Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies.”
53. tranect, perhaps better traject from the Italian traghetto, a ferry.
59. Before they think of us [of our seeing them].
63. accoutred, dressed.
66. And speak between, etc. And speak with high, shrill voice such as boys have when they are changing from childhood to manhood.
67. mincing, short, dainty.
72. I could not do withal, I could not help it. A very common phrase and capable of no other interpretation. Cf. below, iv. 1. 412, and the note thereon.
77. Jacks, a term of contempt. See Much Ado About Nothing, i. 1. 185: “Do you play the flaunting Jack?”
81. all my whole device. Compare 1 Henry VI, i. I. 126: “All the whole army.”
82. my coach. Towards the close of Elizabeth’s reign coaches had become very common in England, although the queen had ridden to her coronation on horseback.
Scene v
Belmont. A garden. | ||
[Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA] | ||
LAUNCELOT | Yes, truly; for, look you, the sins of the father | |
are to be laid upon the children: therefore, I | ||
promise ye, I fear you. I was always plain with | ||
you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter: | ||
therefore be of good cheer, for truly I think you | ||
are damned. There is but one hope in it that can do | ||
you any good; and that is but a kind of bastard | ||
hope neither. | ||
JESSICA | And what hope is that, I pray thee? | 10 |
LAUNCELOT | Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you | |
not, that you are not the Jew’s daughter. | ||
JESSICA | That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed: so the | |
sins of my mother should be visited upon me. | ||
LAUNCELOT | Truly then I fear you are damned both by father and | |
mother: thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I | ||
fall into Charybdis, your mother: well, you are | ||
gone both ways. | 20 | |
JESSICA | I shall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a | |
Christian. | ||
LAUNCELOT | Truly, the more to blame he: we were Christians | |
enow before; e’en as many as could well live, one by | ||
another. This making Christians will raise the | ||
price of hogs: if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we | ||
shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money. | ||
[Enter LORENZO] | ||
JESSICA | I’ll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say: here he comes. | 30 |
LORENZO | I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if | |
you thus get my wife into corners. | ||
JESSICA | Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo: Launcelot and I | |
are out. He tells me flatly, there is no mercy for | ||
me in heaven, because I am a Jew’s daughter: and he | ||
says, you are no good member of the commonwealth, | ||
for in converting Jews to Christians, you raise the | ||
price of pork. | ||
LORENZO | I shall answer that better to the commonwealth than | |
you can the getting up of the negro’s belly: the | ||
Moor is with child by you, Launcelot. | ||
LAUNCELOT | It is much that the Moor should be more than reason: | |
but if she be less than an honest woman, she is | ||
indeed more than I took her for. | ||
LORENZO | How every fool can play upon the word! I think the | |
best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence, | ||
and discourse grow commendable in none only but | ||
parrots. Go in, sirrah; bid them prepare for dinner. | ||
LAUNCELOT | That is done, sir; they have all stomachs. | |
LORENZO | Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then bid | |
them prepare dinner. | ||
LAUNCELOT | That is done too, sir; only ‘cover’ is the word. | |
LORENZO | Will you cover then, sir? | |
LAUNCELOT | Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty. | |
LORENZO | Yet more quarrelling with occasion! Wilt thou show | |
the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray | ||
tree, understand a plain man in his plain meaning: | ||
go to thy fellows; bid them cover the table, serve | ||
in the meat, and we will come in to dinner. | ||
LAUNCELOT | For the table, sir, it shall be served in; for the | |
meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming in | ||
to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and | ||
conceits shall govern. | ||
[Exit LAUNCELOT] | ||
LORENZO | O dear discretion, how his words are suited! | 70 |
The fool hath planted in his memory | ||
An army of good words; and I do know | ||
A many fools, that stand in better place, | ||
Garnish’d like him, that for a tricksy word | ||
Defy the matter. How cheerest thou, Jessica? | ||
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion, | ||
How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio’s wife? | ||
JESSICA | Past all expressing. It is very meet | |
The Lord Bassanio live an upright life; | ||
For, having such a blessing in his lady, | ||
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth; | ||
And if on earth he do not mean it, then | 82 | |
In reason he should never come to heaven | ||
Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match | ||
And on the wager lay two earthly women, | ||
And Portia one, there must be something else | ||
Pawn’d with the other, for the poor rude world | ||
Hath not her fellow. | ||
LORENZO | Even such a husband | |
Hast thou of me as she is for a wife. | ||
JESSICA | Nay, but ask my opinion too of that. | |
LORENZO | I will anon: first, let us go to dinner. | |
JESSICA | Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach. | |
LORENZO | No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk; | |
‘ Then, howso’er thou speak’st, ‘mong other things | ||
I shall digest it. | ||
JESSICA | Well, I’ll set you forth. | |
[Exeunt] |
Key Takeaways
This brief scene, which shows us Lorenzo and Jessica in charge of Belmont in the absence of Portia, produces the necessary effect of a lapse of time between Portia’s departure and the day of trial.
ENDNOTES
3. I fear you, I fear for you.
19. A line from the Alexandreis of Philip Qualtier written in the thirteenth century which became proverbial: Incidis in Scyllam cupiens vitare Charibdim.
21. I shall be saved by my husband. Perhaps an allusion to 1 Corinthians, vii. 14: “The unbelieving wife is sanctified by the husband.”
28. a rasher on the coals, a favorite dish of the time.
34. are out, have fallen out.
57. ‘cover.’ Launcelot plays on the word which means to lay covers on the table, that is set the table, and also to put the hat on the head. I know my duty, and do not wear my hat in the presence of my superiors.
60. quarrelling with occasion, quibbling with words at every opportunity.
70. O dear discretion [sober sense and fair meaning], how [absurdly] his words are suited [matched to the thought].
73. A many fools. The a thus inserted before a numeral indicates that the objects enumerated are regarded collectively as one. Compare the expressions: “This nineteen years,” “This many years”; and Tennyson in The Miller’s Daughter: “They have not shed a many tear.”
74, 75. for a tricksy word Defy the matter, for the sake of playing on the word set the meaning at defiance.
82. And if on earth he do not mean it. Mean is the reading of all the old editions, and various emendations, such as merit it and earn it have been offered. If the reading of the text is to be retained, perhaps the best explanation is that which gives to mean it the force of, “to observe the mean, enjoy blessings moderately.”
95. set you forth, describe you to advantage.