« ПредишнаНапред »
Than is thy ftrange apparent cruelty.
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Glancing an eye of pity on his loffes,
We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.
Shy. I have poffefs'd your Grace of what I purpofé. And by our holy Sabbath have I fworn, 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 chufe to have A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive Three thousand ducats? I'll not answer that. But fay, it is my humour; is 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 baned? 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 bag-pipe fings i' th' nofe, Cannot contain their urine for affection. (15)
(15) Cannot contain their Urine for Affection.
Mafterlefs paffion fways it to the Mocd.
Of what it likes, or loaths.] Maßerless Paffion was first Mr. Rowe's Reading (on what Authority, I am at a lofs to know;) which Mr. Pope has fince copied. And though I have not disturb'd the Text, yet, I must observe, I don't know what Word there is to which this Relative [it, in the fecond Line] is to be referr'd. The ingenious Dr. Thirlby, therefore, would thus adjust the Paffage.
Masterlefs paffion fways it to the mood
Of what it likes, or loaths. Now, for your answer:
A lofing fuit against him. Are you answer'd?
Ball. This is no anfwer, thou unfeeling man, T'excufe the current of thy cruelty.
Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my answer. Baff. Do all men kill the thing they do not love? Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill? Baff. Every offence is not a hate at firft.
Shy.What,wouldft thou have a ferpent fting thee twice? Anth. I pray you, think, you question with a Jew. You may as well go ftand upon the beach, And bid the main flood 'bate his ufual height. You may as well ufe 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 noife,
Cannot contain their Urine; for Affection,
*Mafter of Paffion, fways it &c. *Or, Miftrefs. And then it is govern'd of Paffion: and the two old Quarto's and Folio's read. -- Mafters of Paffion, &c.
It may be objected, that Affection and Paffion are Synonymous Terms, and mean the fame Thing. I agree, they do at this time. But I obferve, the Writers of our Author's Age made a fort of Diftinction: confidering the One as the Caufe, the Other as the Effect. And then, in this place, Affection will ftand for that Sympathy or Antipathy of Soul, by which we are provok'd to fhew a Liking or Dijgufi in the Working of our Paffions.
When they are fretted with the gufts of heav'n.
As feek to foften that, (than which what's harder !)
Because you bought them. Shall I fay to you,
There is no force in the decrees of Venice:
Whom I have sent for to determine this,
Sal. My lord, here flays without,
A meffenger with letters from the Doctor,
Duke. Bring us the letters, call the meffenger.
Baff. Good cheer, Anthonio; what, man, courage yet: The Jeru fhall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all, Ere thou fhalt lofe for me one drop of blood.
Anth. I am a tainted weather of the flock, Meeteft for death; the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground, and fo let me. You cannot better be employ'd, Baffanio, Than to live ftill, and write mine epitaph.
Enter Neriffa, drefs'd like a Lawyer's Clerk.
Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario? (16) Ner. From both, my lord: Bellario greets your Grace. Baff. Why doft thou whet thy knife so earnestly? Shy. To cut the forfeit from that bankrupt there. Gra. Not on thy fole, but on thy foul, harsh Jew, (17) Thou mak'ft thy knife keen; for no metal can, No, not the hangman's ax, bear half the keenness Of thy fharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? Shy. No, none that thou haft wit enough to make. Gra. O be thou damn'd, inexorable dog, And for thy life let juftice be accus'd! Thou almoft mak'ft me waver in my faith, To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That fouls of animals infuse themselves Into the trunks of men. Thy currifh fpirit Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human flaughter,
(16) From both my Lord Bellario greets your Grace.] Thus the two old Folio's, and Mr. Pope in his Quarte, had inaccurately pointed this Paffage, by which a Doctor of Laws was at once rais'd to the Dignity of the Peerage.
(17) Not on thy Sole, but on thy Soul, barfb Jew.] I was obliged, from the Authority of the old Folio's, to restore this Conceit, and Jingle upon two Words alike in Sound, but differing in Senfe. Gratiano thus rates the Jew; "Though thou thinkeft, that thou art whetting thy Knife on the Sole of thy Shoe, yet it is upon thy Soul, thy immortal Part, that thou do'ft it, thou inexorable Man!" There is no room to doubt, but this was our. Author's Antithefis; as it is fo ufual with him to play on Words in this manner: and that from the Mouth of his moft ferious Characters.
Ev'n from the gallows did his fell foul fleet,
Are wolfish, bloody, ftarv'd, and ravenous.
Shy. 'Till thou canst rail the feal from off my bond, Thou but offend'ft thy lungs to speak fo loud. Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
To curelefs ruin. I ftand here for law.
Duke, This letter from Bellario doth commend and learned doctor to our Court.
Ner. He attendeth here hard by
To know your anfwer, whether you'll admit him.
OUR Grace hall understand, that, at the re ceipt of your letter, I am very fick: but at the infant that your meffenger came, in loving vifitation was with me a young Doctor of Rome, his Name is Balthafar: I acquainted him with the cause in controverfy between the Jew and Anthonio 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 ftead. I beseech you, let his lack of years be no impediment, to let him lack a reverend eftimation: For I never knew so
young a body with fo old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whofe trial fshall better pullish his commendation.
Enter Portia, drefs'd like a Doctor of Laws.
Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes, And here, I take it, is the Doctor come:
Give me your hand.
Came you from old Bellario?
Por. I did, my lord.
take your place. G 3