The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare [the false prince TXT] 📗
- Author: William Shakespeare
Book online «The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare [the false prince TXT] 📗». Author William Shakespeare
I’ll die for’t but some woman had the ring. Bassanio
No, by my honour, madam, by my soul,
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me
And begg’d the ring; the which I did deny him
And suffer’d him to go displeased away;
Even he that did uphold the very life
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady?
I was enforced to send it after him;
I was beset with shame and courtesy;
My honour would not let ingratitude
So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady;
For, by these blessed candles of the night,
Had you been there, I think you would have begg’d
The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.
Let not that doctor e’er come near my house:
Since he hath got the jewel that I loved,
And that which you did swear to keep for me,
I will become as liberal as you;
I’ll not deny him any thing I have,
No, not my body nor my husband’s bed:
Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:
Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus:
If you do not, if I be left alone,
Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own,
I’ll have that doctor for my bedfellow.
And I his clerk; therefore be well advised
How you do leave me to mine own protection.
Well, do you so; let not me take him, then;
For if I do, I’ll mar the young clerk’s pen.
Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
And, in the hearing of these many friends,
I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,
Wherein I see myself—
Mark you but that!
In both my eyes he doubly sees himself;
In each eye, one: swear by your double self,
And there’s an oath of credit.
Nay, but hear me:
Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear
I never more will break an oath with thee.
I once did lend my body for his wealth;
Which, but for him that had your husband’s ring,
Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again,
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
Will never more break faith advisedly.
Then you shall be his surety. Give him this
And bid him keep it better than the other.
I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio;
For, by this ring, the doctor lay with me.
And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano;
For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor’s clerk,
In lieu of this last night did lie with me.
Why, this is like the mending of highways
In summer, where the ways are fair enough:
What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserved it?
Speak not so grossly. You are all amazed:
Here is a letter; read it at your leisure;
It comes from Padua, from Bellario:
There you shall find that Portia was the doctor,
Nerissa there her clerk: Lorenzo here
Shall witness I set forth as soon as you
And even but now return’d; I have not yet
Enter’d my house. Antonio, you are welcome;
And I have better news in store for you
Than you expect: unseal this letter soon;
There you shall find three of your argosies
Are richly come to harbour suddenly:
You shall not know by what strange accident
I chanced on this letter.
Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it,
Unless he live until he be a man.
Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow:
When I am absent, then lie with my wife.
Sweet lady, you have given me life and living;
For here I read for certain that my ships
Are safely come to road.
How now, Lorenzo!
My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.
Ay, and I’ll give them him without a fee.
There do I give to you and Jessica,
From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
After his death, of all he dies possess’d of.
Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.
It is almost morning,
And yet I am sure you are not satisfied
Of these events at full. Let us go in;
And charge us there upon inter’gatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully.
Let it be so: the first inter’gatory
That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is,
Whether till the next night she had rather stay,
Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:
But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
That I were couching with the doctor’s clerk.
Well, while I live I’ll fear no other thing
So sore as keeping safe Nerissa’s ring. Exeunt.
The Merchant of Venice
was published in 1596 by
William Shakespeare.
This ebook was produced for
Standard Ebooks
by
Marc Gimpel,
and is based on a transcription produced in 1993 by
Jeremy Hylton
for the
Massachusetts Institute of Technology
and on digital scans available at the
HathiTrust Digital Library.
The cover page is adapted from
Piazza San Marco,
a painting completed in the late 1720s by
Canaletto.
The cover and title pages feature the
League Spartan and Sorts Mill Goudy
typefaces created in 2014 and 2009 by
The League of Moveable Type.
The first edition of this ebook was released on
February 15, 2022, 7:00 p.m.
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