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 Balthasar: I acquainted him with the cause in contro eres between the Jew and Anton o the merchant: we turned Jei 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 he 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 shail better publish his commendation."

Duke. You hear the learned Bellario, what he writes: And here, I take it, is the doctor coine.

Enter PORTIA, dressed like a doctor of laws. Give me your hand: Came you from old Bellario? Por. I did, my lord.

Duke.

You are welcome: take your place. Are you acquainted with the difference That holds this present question in the court? Por. I am informed throughly of the cause. Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew? Duke. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth. Por. Is your name Shylock? Shy.

Shylock is my name. Por. 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? Ant. Ay, so he says.

Por.

Art. I do.

[TO ANT.

Do you confess the bond?

Por. Then must the Jew be merciful. Sky. On what compulsion must I? tell me that. Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd; It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd; 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 seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this-That in the course of justice, none of us Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;.. And that same prayer doth teach us all to render The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much, To mitigate the justice of thy plea;

Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. Shy. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law, The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

Por. Is he not able to discharge the money? Bass. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court; Yea, twice the sum: if that will not suffice, I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er, On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart: If this will not suffice, it must appear That malice bears down truth. Wrest once the law to your authority: To do a great right do a little wrong; And curb this cruel devil of his will.

And I beseech you,

Dr. Jamieson says," In his dawnger, under his dawnger, his power as a captive. The old French danger frequently rs as signifying power, dominion."

Trath is here used in the sense of honesty.

Por. It must not be; there is no power in Venice Can alter a decree established:

'T will be recorded for a precedent;
And many an error, by the same example,
Will rush into the state: it cannot be.

Shy. A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!
O wise young judge, how do I honour thee!
Por. I pray you, let me look upon the bond.
Shy. Here 't is, most reverend doctor, here it is.
Por. Shylock, there 's thrice thy money offer'd theɛ.
Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven:
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
No, not for Venice.

Por.
Why, this bond is forfeit ;
And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
Nearest the merchant's heart :-Be merciful;
Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.
Shy. When it is paid according to the tenor.
It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
You know the law, your exposition

Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law,
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear,
There is no power in the tongue of man
To alter me: I stay here on my bond.

Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court
To give the judgment.

Por.
Why, then, thus it is:
You must prepare your bosom for his knife.
Shy. O noble judge! O excellent young man!
Por. For the intent and purpose of the law
Hath full relation to the penalty,

Which here appeareth due upon the bond.

Shy. "T is very true: O wise and upright judge! How much more elder art thou than thy looks! Por. Therefore, lay bare your bosom. Shy.

Ay, his breast:

So says the bond;-Doth it not, noble judge?--
Nearest his heart, those are the very words.
Por. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh the
flesh?

Shy. I have them ready.

Por. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, To stop his wounds, lest he should bleed to death. Shy. Is it so nominated in the bond?

Por. It is not so express'd; But what of that? 'T were good you do so much for charity.

Shy. I cannot find it; 't is not in the bond.
Por. Come, merchant, have you anything to say?
Ant. But little; I am arm'd, and well prepar'd.-
Give me your hand, Bassanio; fare you well!
Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you;
For herein Fortune shows herself more kind
Than is her custom : it is still her use,
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow,
An age of poverty; from which lingering penance
Of such misery doth she cut me off.
Commend me to your honourable wife.
Tell her the process of Antonio's end,
Say, how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death;
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent not you that you shall lose your
friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt;
For, if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.

Bass. Antonio, I am married to a wife,
Which is as dear to me as life itself;
But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
Are not with me esteem'd above thy life,
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
Here to this devil, to deliver you.

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

Gra. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge!
Por. Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh.
Shed thou no blood; nor cut thou less, nor more,
But just a pound of flesh if thou tak'st more.
Or less, than a just pound,—be it but so muca
As makes it light, or heavy, in the substance,
Or the division of the twentieth part

Of one poor scruple,-nay, if the scale do turn
But in the estimation of a hair,-
Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
Gra. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!

Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip.

Por. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiture. Shy. Give me my principal, and let me go. Bass. I have it ready for thee; here it is. Por. He hath refus'd it in the open court; He shall have merely justice. and his bond. Gra. A Daniel, still say 1; a second Daniel !— I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. Shy. Shall I not have barely my principal ? Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.

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

Of the duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
In which predicament, I say, thou stand st :
For it appears by manifest proceeding,
That, indirectly, and directly too,
Thou hast contriv'd against the very
Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd
The danger formerly by me rehears'd.
Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke.

life

Gra. Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself:

And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
Thou hast not left the value of a cord;
Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the state's charge.
Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our
spirit,

I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it:
For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's;
The other half comes to the general state,
Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.

Por. Ay, for the state; not for Antonio.

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

Por. What mercy can you render him, Antonio?
Gra. A halter gratis; nothing else, for God's sake.
Ant. So please my lord the duke, and all the court,
To quit the fine for one half of his goods;
I am content, so he will let me have
The other half in use," to render it,
Upon his death, unto the gentleman
That lately stole his daughter;

Two things provided more,-That for this favour,
He presently become a Christian;

The other, that he do record a gift,

Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd,

Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.

Duke. He shall do this; or else I do recant

The pardon that I late pronounced here.
Por. Art thou contented, Jew; what dost thou say?
Shy. I am content.

Gra. In christening, thou shalt have two godfathers; Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more, b To bring thee to the gallows, not to the font. [Er. SHY. Duke. Sir, I entreat you with me home to dinner. Por. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon.

I must away this night toward Padua ;
And it is meet I presently set forth.

Duke. I am sorry that your leisure serves you not. Antonio, gratify this gentleman;

For, in my mind, you are much bound to him.

[Exeunt DUKE, Magnificoes, and Train
Bass. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend
Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted
Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof,
Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
We freely cope your courteous pains withal.
Ant. And stand indebted, over and above,
In love and service to you evermore.

Por. He is well paid that is well satisfied:
And I, delivering you, am satisfied,
And therein do account myself well paid;
My mind was never yet more mercenary.
I pray you know me, when we meet again;
I wish you well, and so I take my leave.

bass. Dear sir, of force I must attempt you further; Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute, Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you, Not to deny me, and to pardon me.

Por. You press me far, and therefore I will yield. Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake; And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you :Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more; And you in love snail not deny me this.

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

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

Buss. There's more depends on this than on the value.

The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,

And find it out by proclamation;

Only for this I pray you pardon me.

Por. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers:

You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks,
You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.

Bass. Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife;
And, when she put it on, she made me vow
That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it.

Por. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts. An if your wife be not a mad woman,

And know how well I have deserv'd this ring,
She would not hold out enemy for ever,
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
[Exeunt PoR. and NER
Ant. My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring;
Let his deservings, and my love withal,
Be valued against your wife's commandment.
Bass. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him ;

Gra. Fair sir, you are well o'erta'en: My lord Bassanio, upon more advice, Hath sent you here this ring; and doth entreat Your company at dinner.

Por.

That cannot be :
His ring I do accept most thankfully,
And so, I pray you, tell him: Furthermore,
I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house.
Gra. That will I do.

Ner.
Sir, I would speak with you :-
I'll see if I can get my husband's ring, [TO PORTIA.
Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.

Por. Thou mayst, I warrant. We shall have old swearing,

That they did give the rings away to men;
But we 'll outface them, and outswear them too.
Away, make haste; thou know'st where I will tarry.
Ner. Come, good sir, will you show me to this house?
[Exeunt

SCENE L-Belmont.

Avenue to Portia's House.

Enter LORENZO and JESSICA.

Lor. The moon shines bright-In such a night as this,

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

Jes.

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

Lor.
In such a night,
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love
To come again to Carthage.

Jes.
Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs

That did renew old son.

Lor.

In such a night,

In such a night,

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew;
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.
Jes.

In such a night,

Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well; Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,

And ne'er a true one.

Steph. Stephano is my name; and I bring word,
My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.

Lor.
Who comes with her?
Steph. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid.
I pray you, is my master yet return'd?

Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him.But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,

And ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

a

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

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

Jes. I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

[Music.

Lor. The reason is your spirits are attentive:
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;

If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of music touch their ears,

You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,

By the sweet power of music: Therefore, the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature;
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA at a distance.
Por. That light we see is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner. When the moon shone we did not see the candle.
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less:
A substitute shines brightly as a king,
Until a king be by; and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters. Music! hark!

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

Lor.

[Music ceases.

That is the voice,

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

Give order to my servants, that they take

No note at all of our being absent hence;

Nor you, Lorenzo-Jessica, nor you. [Â tucket sounds. Lor. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet: We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not.

Por. This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick. It looks a little paler; 't is a day

Such as the day is when the sun is hid.

Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their Followers.

Bass. We should hold day with the antipodes,
If you would walk in absence of the sun.

Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light;
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,
And never be Bassanio so for me;

But God sort all!-You are welcome home, my lord. Bass. I thank you, madam: give welcome to my friend.

This is the man, this is Antonio,

To whom I am so infinitely bound.

Por. You should in all sense be much bound to him, For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.

Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house: It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.

[GRA. and NER. seem to talk apart. Gra. By yonder moon, I swear you do me wrong; In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk: Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart.

Por. A quarrel, ho, already? what's the matter?
Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
That she did give me; whose posy was,
For all the world, like cutler's poetry
Upon a knife, "Love me, and leave me not."

Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value?
You swore to me, when I did give it you,
That you would wear it till the hour of death;
And that it should lie with you in your grave:
Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths,
You should have been respective, and have kept it.
Gave it a judge's clerk !-but well I know,
The clerk will ne'er wear hair on 's face that had it.
Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man.
Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man.

Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,—
A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy,

No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk;
A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee;

I could not for my heart deny it him.

Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, To part so slightly with your wife's first gift; A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger, And so riveted with faith unto your flesh.

I

gave my love a ring, and made him swear Never to part with it; and here he stands,—

Sweet Portia,

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or balf her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honour to contain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring.
What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe;
I'll die for 't, but some woman had the ring.

Bass. No, by mine honour, madam, by my soul,
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,

Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,

And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him,
And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away;
Even he that had held up the very life

Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady?
I was enfure'd to send it after him;

I was beset with shame and courtesy ;

My honour would not let ingratitude

So much besmear it: Pardon me, good lady;

For, by these blessed candles of the night,

Had you been there, I think, you would have begg'd

The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.

Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house : Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd,

And that which you did swear to keep for me,
I will become as liberal as you;

I'll not deny him anything I have,

No, not my body, nor my husband's bed:

Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:

Lie not a night from home; watch me, like Argus;

If you do not, if I be left alone,

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

Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd,
How you
do leave me to mine own protection.
Gra. Well, do you so: let not me take him then;
For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels.
Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwith-
standing.

Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;
And, in the hearing of these many friends,

I wear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,
Wherein I see myself,-

Por.

Mark

you but that!

• Contain and retain are here synonymous.

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

Bass.

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

Por. Then you shall be his surety: Give him this; And bid him keep it better than the other.

Ant. Here, lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. Bass. By Heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor! Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; For by this ring the doctor lay with me.

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

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserv'd it? Por. Speak not so grossly.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure;

It comes from Padua, from Bellario:

There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor;
Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here

Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you,
And but e'en 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.

Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not? Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold? Ner. Ay; but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man.

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

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

Por.
How now, Lorenzo?
My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.

Ner. Ay, and I 'll give them him without a fee.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.
Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.

Por.

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.

Gra. 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, Till 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. Sore-excessively, extremely, much.

[Exeunt