Shakespeare's play of the Merchant of Venice Part 14

_The_ DUKE, (B) _the_ MAGNIFICOES[95] ANTONIO, Ba.s.sANIO, GRATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO, _and others_.

_Duke_. What is Antonio here?

_Ant_. Ready, so please your grace.

_Duke_, I am sorry for thee: them art come to answer A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch, Uncapable of pity, void and empty From any dram of mercy.

_Ant_. 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,[96] 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_. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.

_Grand Capt_. He's ready at the door: he comes, my lord.

_Enter_ SHYLOCK.

_Duke_. Make room, and let him stand before our face.

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so, too, That thou but lead'st this fas.h.i.+on of thy malice To the last hour of act: and then, 'tis thought Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse,[97] more strange Than is thy strange apparent cruelty:[98]

And where[99] thou now exact'st the penalty, (Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh), Thou wilt not only lose the forfeiture, But touch'd with human gentleness and love, Forgive a moiety of the princ.i.p.al; Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, That have of late so huddled on his back, Enough to press a royal merchant down, (c) And pluck commiseration of his state From bra.s.sy 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.

_Shy_. 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 humour:[100] 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 ban'd? What, are you answer'd yet?

Some men there are love not a gaping pig;[101]

Some, that are mad if they behold a cat; Now for your answer.

As there is no firm reason to be render'd Why he cannot abide a gaping pig; Why he a harmless necessary cat; 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 answer'd?

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

_Shy_. I am not bound to please thee with my answer.

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

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

_Bas_. Every offence is not a hate at first.

_Shy_. What, would'st thou have a serpent sting thee twice?

_Ant_. I pray you, think you question with the Jew.[102]

You may as well go stand upon the beach, And bid the main flood bate his usual height; Yon 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 fretted 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 more offers, use no further means, But, with all brief and plain conveniency, Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will.

_Bas_. For thy three thousand ducats here are six.

_Shy_. 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_. How shall thou hope for mercy, rend'ring none?

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

You have among you many a purchas'd slave, Which, like your a.s.ses, 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 burthens? 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_. 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.

_Grand Capt_. My lord, here stays without A messenger, with letters from the doctor, New come from Padua.[103]

_Duke_. Bring us the letters:--Call the messenger.

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

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

_Ant_. 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, Ba.s.sanio, Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.

_Enter_ NERISSA, _dressed like a lawyer's clerk_.

_Duke_. Came you from Padua, from Bellario?

_Ner_. From both, my lord; Bellario greets your grace.

[_Presents a letter_.

_Bas_. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?

_Shy_. To cut the forfeit from that bankrupt there.

_Gra_. Can no prayers pierce thee?

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

_Gra_. O, be thou d.a.m.n'd inexorable dog!

And for thy life let justice be accus'd.

Thou almost makst 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 lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam, Infus'd itself in thee; for thy desires Are wolfish, b.l.o.o.d.y, starv'd, and ravenous.

_Shy_. Till thou can'st 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_. This letter from Bellario doth commend A young and learned doctor tax our court:-- Where is he?

_Ner_. He attendeth here hard by, To know your answer, whether you'll admit him.

_Duke_. 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.

[_Herald reads_] "Your grace shall understand, that, at the receipt of your letter, I am very sick; but that in the instant that your messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a young doctor of Home; his name is Balthasar: I acquainted him with the cause in controversy between the Jew and Antonio, the merchant: we turned o'er many books together; he is furnished with my opinion; which, better'd 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."

_Duke_. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes: And here, I take it, is the doctor come.