The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

Yet more quarrelling with occasion! Wilt thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray thee 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 serv’d in; for the meat, sir, it shall be cover’d; for your coming in to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and conceits shall govern.

Exit

LORENZO. O dear discretion, how his words are suited!

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 cheer’st 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 merit it,

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 howsome’er thou speak’st, ‘mong other things I shall digest it.

JESSICA. Well, I’ll set you forth. Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Venice. The court of justice

 

Enter the DUKE, the MAGNIFICOES, ANTONIO, BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALERIO, and OTHERS

 

DUKE OF VENICE. What, is Antonio here?

ANTONIO. Ready, so please your Grace.

DUKE OF VENICE. I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch, Uncapable of pity, void and empty

From any dram of mercy.

ANTONIO. I have heard

Your Grace hath ta’en great pains to qualify His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate, And that no lawful means can carry me Out of his envy’s reach, I do oppose

My patience to his fury, and am arm’d To suffer with a quietness of spirit

The very tyranny and rage of his.

DUKE OF VENICE. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.

SALERIO. He is ready at the door; he comes, my lord.

 

Enter SHYLOCK

 

DUKE OF VENICE. Make room, and let him stand before our face.

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, That thou but leadest this fashion of thy malice To the last hour of act; and then, ‘tis thought, Thou’lt show thy mercy and remorse, more strange Than is thy strange apparent cruelty; And where thou now exacts the penalty, Which is a pound of this poor merchant’s flesh, Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, But, touch’d with human gentleness and love, Forgive a moiety of the principal,

Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, That have of late so huddled on his back-Enow to press a royal merchant down,

And pluck commiseration of his state

From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train’d To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.

SHYLOCK. I have possess’d your Grace of what I purpose, And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn

To have the due and forfeit of my bond.

If you deny it, let the danger light

Upon your charter and your city’s freedom.

You’ll ask me why I rather choose to have A weight of carrion flesh than to receive Three thousand ducats. I’ll not answer that, But say it is my humouris it answer’d?

What if my house be troubled with a rat, And I be pleas’d to give ten thousand ducats To have it ban’d? What, are you answer’d yet?

Some men there are love not a gaping pig; Some that are mad if they behold a cat; And others, when the bagpipe sings i’ th’ nose, Cannot contain their urine; for affection, Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer: As there is no firm reason to be rend’red Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;

Why he, a harmless necessary cat;

Why he, a woollen bagpipe, but of force Must yield to such inevitable shame

As to offend, himself being offended; So can I give no reason, nor I will not, More than a lodg’d hate and a certain loathing I bear Antonio, that I follow thus

A losing suit against him. Are you answered?

BASSANIO. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, To excuse the current of thy cruelty.

SHYLOCK. I am not bound to please thee with my answers.

BASSANIO. Do all men kill the things they do not love?

SHYLOCK. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?

BASSANIO. Every offence is not a hate at first.

SHYLOCK. What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?

ANTONIO. I pray you, think you question with the Jew.

You may as well go stand upon the beach And bid the main flood bate his usual height; You may as well use question with the wolf, Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb; You may as well forbid the mountain pines To wag their high tops and to make no noise When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven; You may as well do anything most hard As seek to soften that-than which what’s harder?-

His jewish heart. Therefore, I do beseech you, Make no moe offers, use no farther means, But with all brief and plain conveniency Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will.

BASSANIO. For thy three thousand ducats here is six.

SHYLOCK. If every ducat in six thousand ducats Were in six parts, and every part a ducat, I would not draw them; I would have my bond.

DUKE OF VENICE. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rend’ring none?

SHYLOCK. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?

You have among you many a purchas’d slave, Which, fike your asses and your dogs and mules, You use in abject and in slavish parts, Because you bought them; shall I say to you ‘Let them be free, marry them to your heirs-Why sweat they under burdens?- let their beds Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates Be season’d with such viands’? You will answer ‘The slaves are ours.’ So do I answer you: The pound of flesh which I demand of him Is dearly bought, ‘tis mine, and I will have it.

If you deny me, fie upon your law!

There is no force in the decrees of Venice.

I stand for judgment; answer; shall I have it?

DUKE OF VENICE. Upon my power I may dismiss this court, Unless Bellario, a learned doctor,

Whom I have sent for to determine this, Come here to-day.

SALERIO. My lord, here stays without

A messenger with letters from the doctor, New come from Padua.

DUKE OF VENICE. Bring us the letters; call the messenger.

BASSANIO. Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet!

The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all, Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.

ANTONIO. I am a tainted wether of the flock, Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me.

You cannot better be employ’d, Bassanio, Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.

 

Enter NERISSA dressed like a lawyer’s clerk DUKE OF VENICE. Came you from Padua, from Bellario?

NERISSA. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your Grace.

[Presents a letter]

BASSANIO. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?

SHYLOCK. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there.

GRATIANO. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, Thou mak’st thy knife keen; but no metal can, No, not the hangman’s axe, bear half the keenness Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?

SHYLOCK. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make.

GRATIANO. O, be thou damn’d, inexecrable dog!

And for thy life let justice be accus’d.

Thou almost mak’st me waver in my faith, To hold opinion with Pythagoras

That souls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men. Thy currish spirit Govern’d a wolf who, hang’d for human slaughter, Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, And, whilst thou layest in thy unhallowed dam, Infus’d itself in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, bloody, starv’d and ravenous.

SHYLOCK. Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond, Thou but offend’st thy lungs to speak so loud; Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall To cureless ruin. I stand here for law.

DUKE OF VENICE. This letter from Bellario doth commend A young and learned doctor to our court.

Where is he?

NERISSA. He attendeth here hard by

To know your answer, whether you’ll admit him.

DUKE OF VENICE. With all my heart. Some three or four of you Go give him courteous conduct to this place.

Meantime, the court shall hear Bellario’s letter.

CLERK. [Reads] ‘Your Grace shall understand that at the receipt of your letter I am very sick; but in the instant that your messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a young doctor of Rome-his name is Balthazar. I acquainted him with the cause in controversy between the Jew and Antonio the merchant; we turn’d o’er many books together; he is furnished with my opinion which, bettered with his own learning-the greatness whereof I cannot enough commend-comes with him at my importunity to fill up your Grace’s request in my stead. I beseech you let his lack of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation, for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his commendation.’

 

Enter PORTIA for BALTHAZAR, dressed like a Doctor of Laws DUKE OF VENICE. YOU hear the learn’d Bellario, what he writes; And here, I take it, is the doctor come.

Give me your hand; come you from old Bellario?

PORTIA. I did, my lord.

DUKE OF VENICE. You are welcome; take your place.

Are you acquainted with the difference That holds this present question in the court?

PORTIA. I am informed throughly of the cause.

Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?

DUKE OF VENICE. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.

PORTIA. Is your name Shylock?

SHYLOCK. Shylock is my name.

PORTIA. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow; Yet in such rule that the Venetian law Cannot impugn you as you do proceed.

You stand within his danger, do you not?

ANTONIO. Ay, so he says.

PORTIA. Do you confess the bond?

ANTONIO. I do.

PORTIA. Then must the Jew be merciful.

SHYLOCK. On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.

PORTIA. The quality of mercy is not strain’d; It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.

‘Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty,

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings; But mercy is above this sceptred sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God’s When mercy