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WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 
 
SHAKESPEARE'S 
 
 COMEDY OF 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 Edited, with Notes, 
 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM J. ROLFE, A.M., 
 
 FORMERLY HEAD MASTER OF THE HIGH SCHOOL, CAMBRIDGE, MASS, 
 
 WITH ENGRA VINGS, 
 
 DFC 27 J 883, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 1883. 
 

 
 ENGLISH CLASSICS. 
 
 Edited by WM. J. ROLFE, A.M. 
 
 Illustrated. x6mo, Cloth, 56 cents per volume ; Paper, 40 cents per volume. 
 
 Shakespeake^s Works. 
 
 The Merchant of Venice. 
 
 King Lear. 
 
 Othello. 
 
 The Taming of the Shrew. 
 
 Julius C^sar. 
 
 All ;sWen that Ends Well. 
 
 A Midsummer-Night's Dream. 
 
 Coriolanus. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 The Comedy of Errors. 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 Cymbeline. 
 
 Much Ado about Nothing. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 The Tempest. 
 
 Love's Labour ^s Lost. 
 
 Twelfth Night. 
 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 The Winter's Tale. 
 
 Timon of Athens. 
 
 King John. 
 
 Troilus and Cressida. 
 
 Richard II. 
 
 Henry VI. Part I. 
 
 Henry IV. Part I. 
 
 Henry VI. Part II. 
 
 Henry IV. Part II. 
 
 Henry VI. Part III. 
 
 Henry V. 
 
 Pericles, Prince of Tyre. 
 
 Richard TIL 
 
 The Two Noble Kinsmen! 
 
 Henry VIII. 
 
 Son] 
 
 Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, etc. 
 lets. 
 
 Goldsmith's Select Poems. 
 
 Gray's Select Poems. 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, Nevit York. 
 
 ^S^ Any of the above works will he sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part 
 
 of the United States, on receipt of the price. 
 
 Copyright, 1870, by Harper & Brothers. 
 
 Copyright, 1883, by Harper & Brothers. 
 

 MONUMENT AT STRATFORD. 
 
JOHN Shakespeare's house in henley street. View from an old Print. 
 
 THE LIFE AND WORKS 
 
 SHAKESPEARE, 
 
 William Shakespeare was born at Stratford-upon-Avon, 
 in the county of Warwick, England, in April, 1564. The rec- 
 ord of his baptism bears the date of April 26th, and as it was 
 an old custom to christen children on the third day after birth, 
 the tradition which makes his birthday the 23d has been com- 
 monly accepted. His father, John Shakespeare, seems to 
 have belonged to the class of yeomen, and to have been a 
 glover by trade. His mother, Mary Arderne, or Arden, came 
 of a good old Warwickshire family, and brought her husband 
 a considerable estate as dower, John Shakespeare was 
 for many years an alderman, and twice filled the office of 
 High Bailiff, or chief magistrate, but later in life he appears 
 to have become quite poor. 
 
2 THE LIFE AND WORKS OF 
 
 Of a family of four sons and four daughters, William was 
 the third child, but the eldest son. He was in all probabili- 
 ty sent to the free-school of his native town, and after leav- 
 ing school may have spent some time in an attorney's office. 
 But in 1582, when he was only 18, he married Anne Hath- 
 away, of the parish of Shottery, near Stratford, a woman some 
 eight years older than himself A daughter was soon born 
 to him, and, two years later, twins — a boy and a girl. 
 
 ROOM IN THE HOUSE IN HENLEY STREET, WHERE SHAKESPEARE WAS BORN. 
 
 As nearly as can be made out, it was in the next year, 1586, 
 that Shakespeare, then 22, went to London, where he became 
 firsf an actor, then -a writer for the stage. As an actor he 
 seems to have made no special mark, but as a writer he very 
 soon distinguished himself, and in a few years had won the 
 foremost rank among the dramatists of his time. In 1598, 
 Francis Meres, in his Wifs Treasury^ speaks of him as " the 
 
SHAKESPEARE. 3 
 
 most excellent among the English for both kinds of tragedy 
 and comedy." His works became not only widely popular, 
 but they brought him special marks of favor and approval 
 from Queen Elizabeth and her successor, James, and gained 
 for him the patronage and friendship of some of the most ac- 
 complished men of rank of that day. 
 
 INNER COURT OF THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL, STRATFORD. 
 
 But while thus prosperous and honored in London, Shake- 
 speare continued to look upon Stratford as his home. There 
 he had left his wife and children, and thither, after he had 
 secured a competency, he returned to spend the evening of 
 
THE LIFE AND WORKS OF 
 
 his days in quiet. It was probably about the year 1612 that 
 he settled down in Stratford, on an estate purchased- some 
 years previous. His wife was still living, and also his two 
 
 CHANCEL OF STRATFORD CHURCH 
 
SHAKESPEARE, j 
 
 daughters, of whom the elder, Susanna, was married to Dr. 
 John Hall, in 1607 ; the younger, Judith, to Mr. Thos. Quin^ 
 ey, in 16 16. His son, Hamnet, had died in his twelfth year, 
 in 1596. 
 
 Shakespeare died at Stratford, as already mentioned^ on 
 the 23d of April, 1616; and he lies buried in the parish 
 church there. 
 
 The first work of Shakespeare's which was printed with his 
 name was the poem of Venus and Adonis^ which appeared in 
 1593. In the Dedication to the Earl of Southampton the 
 author styles it "the first heir of his invention." In 1594, 
 The Rape of Lucrece was published. Both these poems were 
 reprinted several times in the poet's lifetime. His only oth- 
 er w^orks, besides the Plays, are The Passionate Pilgrim^ a 
 small collection of poems, first printed in 1599, and his Son- 
 nets (154 in number), with a poem entitled A Lover's Com- 
 plaint, which appeared together in 1609. 
 
 The first edition of his collected Dramatic Works contain- 
 ed all the Plays generally included in modern editions, with 
 the exception of Pericles, and was published in a folio vol- 
 ume, in 1623, or not till seven years after his death. It was 
 put forth by two of his friends and fellow actors, John Hem- 
 inge and Henrie Condell, and the title-page declares it to be 
 printed " according to the true original copies.'' The preface 
 also condemns all preceding editions of separate plays''^ as 
 " stolen and surreptitious copies, maimed and deformed by 
 the frauds and stealths .of injurious impostors," while it claims 
 that the publishers of this volume had the use of the author's 
 manuscripts. They probably had the use of such of his pa- 
 pers as were in the possession of the Blackfriars Theatre, to 
 
 * Eighteen of the Plays are known to have been separately printed, 
 some of them more than once, in Shakespeare's lifetime. Othello was also 
 printed separately in 1622. All these editions are in quarto form,, and are 
 commonly known as the old or early quartos. 
 
5 THE LIFE AND WORKS OF 
 
 which they, like himself, belonged. The volume, however, ap- 
 pears to have had no proper editing, and every page is dis- 
 figured by the grossest typographical errors. While it is the 
 earliest and the only authentic edition of the Plays, it cannot 
 be accepted as anything like an infallible authority in all 
 cases for what Shakespeare actually wrote. 
 
 STRATFORD CHURCH, WEST END. 
 
 The volume just described is commonly known as the "first 
 folio.'' A second folio edition, including the same plays, ap- 
 peared in 1632. It contains some new readings, which are 
 
SHAKESPEARE. 7 
 
 probably nothing more than the conjectural emendations of 
 the unknown editor. 
 
 A third folio edition was issued in 1664. This contains 
 the thirty-six Plays of the preceding folios, with Pericles and 
 six dramas'^ not included in the modern editions. A fourth 
 and last folio reprint followed in 1685. 
 
 HOUSE IN HENLEY STREET, ABOUT 182O. 
 
 These four folios were the only editions of the Plays brought 
 out in the 17th century. The i8th century produced a long 
 succession of editors — Rowe, Pope, Theobald, Hanmer, War- 
 burton, Johnson, Steevens, Capell, Reed, Malone, and Rann. 
 In 1803 appeared what is known as "Reed's Second Edition 
 of Johnson and Steevens,'' in twenty-one volumes, in which 
 were incorporated all the notes of the .preceding editions. 
 
 * For an account of these and other plays which have been ascribed to 
 Shakespeare, as well as for a fuller description of these early editions of 
 his works, see our Life of Shakespeare y etc. 
 
8 THE LIFE AND WORKS OF SHAKESPEARE, 
 
 This was followed in 182 1 by what is now the standard ''' Va- 
 riorum edition," also in twenty-one volumes, mostly prepared 
 by Malone, but completed and carried through the press by 
 his friend Boswell. The most important English editions of 
 more recent date are those of Knight, Collier, Singer, Staun- 
 ton, Dyce, Clark and Wright, and Halliwell. The only Amer- 
 ican editions of any critical value are Verplanck's (1847), 
 Hudson's (1855 and 1881), and White's (1857-1865 an.! 
 1883). 
 
 ■^^^ ' ^/ 
 
 STRATFORD^CHURCH, EAST KND, WITH CHARNEL-HOUSE. 
 
ARMS OF JOHN SHAKESPEARE 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 I. THE HISTORY OF THE PLAY,. 
 
 The Merchant of Venice is the last on a list of Shakespeare's 
 plays given by Francis Meres in his Palladis Tamia^ which 
 appeared in 1598. In the same year it was entered as. fol- 
 lows on. the Register of the Stationers' Company : — 
 
 "22 July, 1598, James Robertes.] A booke of the Mar- 
 chaunt of Venyce, or otherwise called the Jewe of Venyse. 
 Provided that yt bee not prynted by the said James Robertes, 
 
lo THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 or anye other whatsoever, without lycence first had from the 
 right honourable the Lord Chamberlen." 
 
 The company of players to which Shakespeare belonged, 
 and for which he wrote, were "the Lord Chamberlain's Ser- 
 vants ;" and the above order was meant to prohibit the pub- 
 lication of the play until the patron of the company should 
 give his permission. This he appears not to have done 
 until two years later, when the following entry was made in 
 the Register: 
 
 "28 Oct., 1600, Tho. Haies.] The booke of the Merchant 
 ofVenyce." 
 
 Soon after this entry, the play was published by Heyes, in 
 quarto, with the following title : 
 
 The most excellent | Historic of the Merchant \ of Venice. \ 
 With the extreame crueltie of Shylocke the lewe | towards the 
 sayd Merchant, in cutting a iust pound | of his flesh: and the 
 obtayning of Portia \ by the choyse of three | chests. As it 
 hath beefie diners times acted by the Lord \ Chamberlaine his Ser- 
 ua?tts, I Written by William Shakespeare. | AT LONDON, | 
 Printed by I. R., for Thomas Heyes, | and are to be sold in 
 Paules Church-yard, at the | signe of the Greene Dragon. | 
 1600. 
 
 Another edition, also in quarto, was issued the same year, 
 by Roberts, with the following title : 
 
 The I EXCELLENT \ History of the Mer- 1 chant of Ven- 
 ice. I With the extreme cruelty of Shylocke \ the lew towards 
 the saide Merchant, in cut- | ting a iust pound of his flesh. 
 And the obtainhtg \ of Portia, by the choyse of three Caskets. \ 
 Written by W. Shakespeare. | Printed by y. Roberts, 1600. 
 
 The play was not reprinted until it appeared in the folio 
 of 1623, where the text varies but little from the quartos. 
 
 There is good reason to believe that the play was written 
 and acted as early as 1594. In Henslowe's Diary, under- 
 the date "25 of aguste 1594," we find a record of the per- 
 formance of "the Venesyon comodey," which is marked ne, as 
 
INTRODUCTION. u 
 
 a new play. This entry probably refers to The Merchant of 
 Venice^ since in that year the company of players of which 
 Shakespeare was a member was performing at the theatre of 
 which Henslowe was chief manager, and probably in con- 
 junction with his company. 
 
 It was formerly supposed that The Merchant of Venice was 
 played before James I. on Shrove Sunday, and again on 
 Shrove Tuesday, in 1605. The following entries appear in 
 the Accounts of the Master of the Revels, preserved in the 
 Audit Office, but they have been proved beyond all doubt 
 to be forgeries: 
 
 "By his Ma*'' Plaiers. On Shrousunday a play of the 
 Marchant of Venis." 
 
 "By his Ma*'" Players. On Shroutusday a play cauled 
 the Martchant of Venis againe, comanded by the Kings 
 Ma*^" 
 
 The name of " Shaxberd'' as "the poet which made the 
 play" is added in the margin opposite both entries. 
 
 II. THE SOURCES OF THE PLOT. 
 
 The plot of The Merchant of Venice is composed of two dis- 
 tinct stories : that of the bond, and that of the caskets. Both 
 these fables are found in the Gesta Romanorum^ a Latin com- 
 pilation of allegorical tales, which had been translated into 
 English as early as the time of Henry VI. It is almost cer- 
 tain, however, that the immediate source from which Shake- 
 speare derived the incidents connected with the bond was a 
 story in II Pecorone^ a collection of tales by an Italian writer, 
 Giovanni Fiorentino, first published at Milan in 1558, though 
 written nearly two hundred years before. In this story we 
 have a rich lady at Belmont^ who is to be won on certain con- 
 ditions ; and she is finally the prize of a young merchant, 
 whose friend, having become surety for him to a Jew under 
 the same penalty as in the play, is rescued from the forfeiture 
 by the adroitness of the married lady, who is disguised as a 
 
12 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 lawyer. The pretended judge receives, as in the comedy, 
 her marriage ring as a gratuity, and afterwards banters her 
 husband, in the same way, upon the loss of it. An English 
 translation .of // jRs'^^r^;^^ is known to have been extant in 
 Shakespeare's time. 
 
 It is quite probable that some incidents connected with 
 the bond were taken from the old ballad of Gernutus, which 
 may be found in Percy's Reliques of Ancient English Poetry. 
 No dated edition of the ballad is known, but the best critics 
 believe that it is older than the play, and not, as some have 
 maintained, founded upon the play. 
 
 It is possible that the legends of the bond and the caskets 
 had been blended by an English dramatic writer before Shake- 
 speare began to write for the stage. Stephen Gosson, a Pu- 
 ritan author, in his Sckoole of Abuse, published in 1579, excepts 
 a few plays from the sweeping condemnation of his " plesaunt 
 inu^ctive against Poets, Pipers, Tlaiers, Jesters, and such-like 
 caterpillers of a Commonwelth." Among these exceptions 
 he mentions ''The yew, and Ptolome, showne at the Bull ; the 
 one representing the greedinesse of worldly chusers, and ike 
 bloody mi?tds of usurers ; the other very lively describing howe 
 seditious estates with their owne devises, false friends with 
 their owne swoords, and rebellious commons in their owne 
 snares, are overthrowne." We have no other knowledge of 
 this play of The Jew ; but the nationality of its hero and the 
 double moral, agreeing so exactly with that of The Mercha?it 
 of Venice, render it probable that the plots of the two dramas 
 were essentially the same ; and that Shakespeare in this in- 
 stance, as in others, worked upon some rough model already 
 prepared for him. The question, however, is not of great im- 
 portance. As Staunton remarks, " Be the merit of the fable 
 whose it may, the characters, the language, the poetry, and 
 the sentiment are his, and his alone. To no other writer of 
 the period could we be indebted for the charming combina- 
 tion of womanly grace, and dignity, and playfulness, which is 
 
INTRODUCTION, 13 
 
 found in Portia ; for the exquisite picture of friendship be- 
 tween Bassanio and Antonio ; for the profusion of poetic 
 beauties scattered over the play ; and for the masterly de- 
 lineation of that perfect type of Judaism in olden times, the 
 character of Shylock himself 
 
 III. CRITICAL COMMENTS ON THE PLAY. 
 [From Schlegels ^^ Lectures on Dramatic Literature. '''"^^ 
 The Merchant of Venice is one of Shakespeare's most per- 
 fect works : popular to an extraordinary degree, and calcu- 
 lated to produce the most powerful effect on the stage, and 
 at the same time a wonder of ingenuity and art for the re- 
 flecting critic. Shylock the Jew is one of the inimitable mas- 
 terpieces of characterization which are to be found only in 
 Shakespeare. It is easy for both poet and player to exhibit 
 a caricature of national sentiments, modes of speaking, and 
 gestures. 'Shylock, however, is everything but a common 
 Jew : he possesses a strongly marked and original individu- 
 ality, and yet we perceive a light touch of Judaism in every- 
 thing he says or does. We almost fancy we can hear a slight 
 whisper of the Jewish accent even in the written words, such 
 as we sometimes still find in the higher classes, notwithstand- 
 ing their social refinement. In tranquil moments, all that is 
 foreign to the European blood and Christian sentiments is 
 less perceptible, but in passion the national stamp comes out 
 more strongly marked. All these inimitable niceties the fin- 
 ished art of a great actor can alone properly express. Shy- 
 lock is a man of information, in his own w^ay even a thinker, 
 only he has not discovered the region where human feelings 
 dwell ; his morality is founded on the disbelief in goodness 
 and magnanimity. The desire to avenge the wrongs and in- 
 dignities heaped upon his nation is, after avarice, his stron- 
 gest spring of action. His hate is naturally directed chiefly 
 
 *■ From Black's translation, with a few verbal changes. I ha\'« not had 
 the opportunity of comparing it with the original German. 
 
14 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 against those Christians who are actuated by truly Christian 
 sentiments : a disinterested love of our neighbour seems to 
 him the most unrelenting persecution of the Jews. The let- 
 ter of the law is his idol ; he refuses to lend an ear to the 
 voice of mercy, which, from the mouth of Portia, speaks to 
 him with heavenly eloquence : he insists on rigid and inflex- 
 ible justice, and at last it recoils on his own head. Thus he 
 becomes a symbol of the general history of his unfortunate 
 nation. The melancholy and self-sacrificing magnanimity of 
 Antonio is affectingly sublime. Like a princely merchant, 
 he is surrounded with a whole train of noble friends. The 
 contrast which this forms to the selfish cruelty of the usurer 
 Shylock was necessary to redeem the honour of human na- 
 ture. The danger which, almost to the close of the fourth 
 act, hangs over Antonio, and which the imagination is almost 
 afraid to approach, would fill the mind with too painful anxie- 
 ty, if the poet did not also provide for its recreation and di- 
 version. This is effected in an especial manner by the scenes 
 at Portia's country-seat, which transport the spectator into 
 quite another world. And yet they are closely connected 
 with the main business by the chain of cause and effect. 
 Bassanio's preparations for his courtship are the cause of 
 Antonio's subscribing the dangerous bond \ and Portia, by 
 the counsel and advice of her kinsman, a famous lawyer, ef- 
 fects the safety of her lover's friend. But the relations of 
 the dramatic composition are admirably observed in yet an- 
 other respect. The trial between Shylock and Antonio is in- 
 deed recorded as being a real event, but still, for all that, it 
 must ever remain an unheard-of and singular case. Shake- 
 speare has therefore associated it with a love intrigue not 
 less extraordinary : the one consequently is rendered natural 
 and probable by means of the other. A rich, beautiful, and 
 intellectual heiress, who can only be won by solving the rid- 
 dle ; the locked caskets ; the foreign princes, who come to 
 try the venture ; — all this powerfully excites the imagination 
 
INTROD UCTION. 
 
 15 
 
 with the splendour of an olden tale of marvels. The two 
 scenes in which, first the Prince of Morocco, in the language 
 of Eastern hyperbole, and then the self-conceited Prince of 
 Arragon, make their choice among the caskets, serve merely 
 to raise our curiosity, and give employment to our wits ; but 
 on the third, where the two lovers stand trembling before the 
 inevitable choice, which in one moment must unite or sepa- 
 rate them for ever, Shakespeare has lavished all the charms 
 of feeling, all the magic of poesy. We share in the rapture 
 of Portia and Bassanio at the fortunate choice : we easily 
 conceive why they are so fond of each other, for they are 
 both most deserving of love. The trial scene, with which the 
 fourth act is occupied, is in itself a perfect drama, concentrat- 
 ing in itself the interest of the whole. The knot is now un- 
 tied, and, according to the common ideas of theatrical satis- 
 faction, the curtain ought to drop. But the poet was unwill- 
 ing to dismiss his audience with the gloomy impressions which 
 Antonio's acquittal, effected with so much difficulty and con- 
 trary to all expectation, and the condemnation of Shylock, 
 were calculated to leave behind them ; he has therefore add- 
 ed the fifth act by way of a musical afterpiece in the play 
 itself. The episode of Jessica, the fugitive daughter of the 
 Jew, in whom Shakespeare has contrived to throw a veil of 
 sweetness over the national features, and the artifice by which 
 Portia and her companion are enabled to rally their newly- 
 married husbands, supply him with the necessary materials. 
 The scene opens with the playful prattling of two lovers in a 
 summer evening; it is followed by soft music, and a rapturous 
 eulogy on this powerful disposer of the human mind and the 
 world ; the principal characters then make their appearance, 
 and, after a simulated quarrel, which is gracefully maintained, 
 the whole ends with the most exhilarating mirth. 
 
 [F}'om Mrs. Jameson's ''''Characteristics 0/ PVomeu.^^] 
 Portia, Isabella, Beatrice, and Rosalind may be classed lo^ 
 
1 6 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 gether, as characters of intellect, because, when compared 
 with others, they are at once distinguished by their mental 
 superiority. In Portia, it is intellect kindled into romance 
 by a poetical imagination ; in Isabel, it is intellect elevated 
 by religious principle ; in Beatrice, intellect animated by spir- 
 it ; in Rosalind, intellect softened by sensibility. The wit 
 which is lavished on each is profound, or pointed, or spark- 
 ling, or playful — but always feminine ; like spirits distilled 
 from flowers, it always reminds us of its origin ; it is a vola- 
 tile essence, sweet as powerful ; and to pursue the compari- 
 son a step further, the wit of Portia is like ottar of roses, rich 
 and concentrated \ that of Rosalind, like cotton 'dipped in 
 aromatic vinegar ; the wit of Beatrice is like sal volatile ; and 
 that of Isabel, like the incense wafted to heaven. Of these 
 four exquisite characters, considered as dramatic and poetic- 
 al conceptions, it is difficult to pronounce which is most per- 
 fect in its way, most admirably drawn, most highly finished. 
 But if considered in another point of view, as women and 
 individuals, as breathing realities, clothed in flesh and blood, 
 I believe we must assign the first rank to Portia, as uniting 
 in herself, in a more eminent degree than the others, all the 
 noblest and most lovable qualities that ever met together 
 in woman, and presenting a complete personification of Pe- 
 trarch's exquisite epitome of female perfection — 
 II vago spirito ardento, 
 E'n alto intelletto, un puro core. 
 
 Shylock is not a finer or more finished character in his 
 way, than Portia is in hers. These two splendid figures are 
 worthy of each other ; w^orthy of being placed together with- 
 in the same rich framework of enchanting poetry, and glori- 
 ous and graceful forms. She hangs beside the terrible inex- 
 orable Jew, the brilliant lights of her character set off by the 
 shadowy power of his, like a magnificent beauty-breathing 
 Titian by the side of a gorgeous Rembrandt. 
 
 Portia is endued with her own share of those delightful 
 
INTRO D UCTION, 1 7 
 
 qualities which Shakespeare has lavished on many of his fe- 
 male characters ; but, besides the dignity, the sweetness, and 
 tenderness which should distinguish her sex generally, she is 
 individualized by qualities peculiar to herself; by her high 
 mental powers, her enthusiasm of temperament, her decision 
 of purpose, and her buoyancy of spirit. These are innate ; 
 she has other distinguishing qualities more external, and 
 which are the result of the circumstances in which she is 
 placed. Thus she is the heiress of a princely name and 
 countless wealth ; a train of obedient pleasures have ever 
 waited round her ; and from infancy she has breathed an at- 
 mosphere redolent of perfume and blandishment. Accord- 
 ingly there is a commanding grace, a high-bred, airy elegance, 
 a spirit of magnificence in all that she does and says, as one 
 to whom splendour had been familiar from her very birth. 
 She treads as though her footsteps had been among marble 
 ^palaces, beneath roofs of fretted gold, o'er cedar floors and 
 pavements of jasper and. porphyry — amid gardens full of stat- 
 ues, and flowers, and fountains, and haunting music. She is 
 full of penetrative wisdom, and genuine tenderness, and live- 
 ly wit ; but as she has never known want, or grief, or fear, or 
 disappointment, her wisdom is without a touch of the sombre 
 or the sad ; her affections are all mixed up with faith, hope, 
 and joy ; and her wit has not a particle of malevolence or 
 causticity. . . 
 
 The sudden plan which she forms for the release of her 
 husband's friend, her disguise, and her deportment as the 
 young and learned doctor, would appear forced and improb- 
 able in any other woman, but in Portia are the simple and 
 natural result of her character.* The quickness with which 
 she perceives the legal advantage which may be taken of the 
 circumstances, the spirit of adventure with which she engages 
 
 * In that age, delicate points of law were not determined by. the ordi- 
 nary judges of the provinces, but by doctors of law, who were called from 
 Bologna, Padua, and other places celebrated for their legal colleges. 
 
 B 
 
1 8 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 in the masquerading, and the decision, firmness, and intelli- 
 gence with which she executes her generous purpose, are all 
 in perfect keeping, and nothing appears forced — nothing as 
 introduced merely for theatrical effect. 
 
 But all the finest parts of Portia's character are brought to 
 bear in the trial scene. There she shines forth, all her di- 
 vine self Her intellectual powers, her elevated sense of re- 
 ligion, her high honourable principles, her best feelings as a 
 woman, are all displayed. She maintains at first a calm self- 
 command, as one sure of carrying her point in the end ; yet 
 the painful heart-thrilling uncertainty in which she keeps the 
 whole court, until suspense verges upon agony, is not con- 
 trived for effect merely ; it is necessary and inevitable. She 
 has two objects in view : to deliver her husband's friend, and . 
 to maintain her husband's honour by the discharge of his just 
 debt, though paid out of her own wealth ten times over. It 
 is evident that she would rather owe the safety of Antonio to 
 anything rather than the legal quibble with which her cousin 
 Bellario has armed her, and which she reserves as a last re- 
 source. Thus all the speeches addressed to Shylock in the 
 first instance are either diriect or indirect experiments on his 
 temper and feelings. She must be understood from the be- 
 ginning to the end as examining, with intense anxiety, the 
 effect of her own words on his mind and countenance ; as 
 watching for that relenting spirit, which she hopes to awaken 
 either by reason or persuasion. She begins by an appeal to 
 his mercy, in that matchless piece of eloquence, which, with 
 an irresistible and solemn patlios, falls upon the heart like 
 " gentle dew from heaven :" — but in vain ; for that blessed 
 dew drops not more fruitless and unfelt on the parched sand 
 of the desert, than do these heavenly words upon the ear of 
 Shylock. She next attacks his avarice : 
 
 vShylock, there's thrice thy money offered thee .' 
 Then she appeals, in the same breath, both to his avarice and 
 his pity : 
 
INTRODUCTION, iq 
 
 Be merciful ! 
 Take thrice thy money. Bid me tear the bond. 
 
 All that she says afterwards^ — her strong expressions, which 
 are calculated to strike a shuddering horror through the 
 nerves, the reflections she interposes, her delays and circum- 
 locution to give time for any latent feeling of commiseration 
 to display itself, — all, all are premeditated, and tend in the 
 same manner to the object she has in view. 
 
 So unwilling is her sanguine and generous spirit to resign 
 all hope, or to believe that humanity is absolutely extinct in 
 the bosom of the Jew, that she calls on Antonio, as a last re- 
 source, to speak for himself. His gentle, yet manly resigna- 
 tion, the deep pathos of his farewell, and the affectionate al- 
 lusion to herself in his last address to Bassanio — 
 
 Commend me to your honourable wife ; 
 
 Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death, etc. — 
 
 are well calculated to swell that emotion, which through the 
 whole scene must have been labouring suppressed within her 
 heart. 
 
 At length the crisis arrives, for patience and womanhood 
 can endure no longer ; and when Shylock, carrying his sav- 
 age bent " to the last hour of act," springs on his victim — "A 
 sentence ! come, prepare !" — then the smothered scorn, indig- 
 nation, and disgust burst forth with an impetuosity which in- 
 terferes with the judicial solemnity she had at first affected, 
 particularly in the speech — - 
 
 Therefore, prepare thee to cut oif the flesh, etc. 
 
 But she afterwards recovers her propriety, and triumphs with 
 a cooler scorn and a more self-possessed exultation. 
 
 It is clear that, to feel the full force and dramatic beauty 
 of this marvellous scene, we must go along with Portia as 
 well as with Shylock ; we must understand her concealed 
 purpose, keep in mind her noble motives, and pursue in our 
 fancy the under current of feeling, working in her mind 
 
20 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 throughout. The terror and the power of Shylock's charac- 
 ter, his deadly and inexorable malice, would be too oppress- 
 ive, the pain and pity too intolerable, and the horror of the 
 possible issue too overwhelming, but for the intellectual re- 
 lief afforded by this double source of interest and contempla- 
 tion. ... 
 
 A prominent feature in Portia's character is that confiding, 
 buoyant spirit, which mingles with all her thoughts and affec- 
 tions. And here let me observe, that I never yet met in real 
 life, nor ever read in tale or history, of any woman, distin- 
 guished for intellect of the highest order, who was not also 
 remarkable for this trusting spirit, this hopefulness and cheer- 
 fulness of temper, which is compatible with the most serious 
 habits of thought, and the most profound sensibility. Lady 
 Wortley Montagu was one instance ; and Madame de Stael 
 furnishes another much more memorable. In her Corinne, 
 whom she drew from herself, this natural brightness of temper 
 is a prominent part of the character. A disposition to doubt, 
 to suspect, and to despond, in the young, argues, in general, 
 some inherent weakness, moral or physical, or some miser- 
 able and radical error of education : in the old, it is one of 
 the first symptoms of age ; it speaks of the influence of sor- 
 row and experience, and foreshows the decay of the stronger 
 and more generous powers of the soul. Portia's strength of 
 intellect takes a natural tinge from the flush and bloom of 
 her young and prosperous existence, and from her fervent 
 imagination. In the casket-scene, she fears indeed the issue 
 of the trial, on which more than her life is hazarded ; but 
 while she trembles, her hope is stronger than her fear 
 
 Her subsequent surrender of herself in heart and soul, of 
 her maiden freedom, and her vast possessions, can never be 
 read without deep emotions ; for not only all the tenderness 
 and delicacy of a devoted woman are here blended with all 
 jthe dignity which becomes the princely heiress of Belmont, 
 but the serious, measured self-possession of her address to 
 
INTRODUCTION, 21 
 
 her lover, when all suspense is over, and all concealment su- 
 perfluous, is most beautifully consistent with the character. 
 It is, in truth, an awful moment, that in which a gifted woman 
 first discovers that, besides talents and powers, she has also 
 passions and affections; when she first begins to suspect their 
 vast importance in the sum of her existence ; when she first 
 confesses that her happiness is no longer in her own keeping, 
 but is surrendered forever and forever into the dominion of 
 another ! The possession of uncommon powers of mind is 
 so far from affording relief or resource in the first intoxica- 
 ting surprise — I had almost said terror — of such a revolution, 
 that they render it more intense. The sources of thought 
 multiply beyond calculation the sources of feeling ; and -min- 
 gled, they rush together, a torrent deep as strong. Because 
 Portia is endued with that enlarged comprehension which 
 looks before and after, she does not feel the less, but the 
 more ; because from the height of her commanding intellect 
 she can contemplate the force, the tendency, the consequences 
 of her own sentiments — because she is fully sensible of her 
 own situation, and the value of all she concedes — the conces' 
 sion is not made with less entireness and devotion of heart, 
 less confidence in the truth and worth of her lover, than when 
 Juliet, in a similar moment, but without any such intrusive re- 
 flections — any check but the instinctive delicacy of her sex, 
 flings herself and her fortunes at the feet of her lover : 
 And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay, 
 And follow thee, my lord, through all the world.* 
 
 In Portia's confession — "You see me, Lord Bassanio, where 
 I stand," etc. — which is not breathed from a moonlit balcony, 
 but spoken openly in the presence of her attendants and vas- 
 sals, there is nothing of the passionate self-abandonment of 
 Juliet, nor of the artless simplicity of Miranda, but a con- 
 sciousness and a tender seriousness, approaching to solemni- 
 ty, which are not less touching. 
 
 * Romeo and yidiety ii. 2. 
 
2 2 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 We must also remark that the sweetness, the solicitude, 
 the subdued fondness which she afterwards displays, relative 
 to the letter, are as true to the softness of her sex, as the gen- 
 erous self-denial with which she urges the departure of Bas- 
 sanio (having first given him a husband's right over herself 
 and all her countless wealth) is consistent with a reflecting 
 mind, and a spirit at once tender, reasonable, and magnani- 
 mous. . . 
 
 In the last act, Shylock and his machinations being dis- 
 missed from our thoughts, and the rest of the dramatis per- 
 soncE assembled together at Belmont, all our interest and all 
 our attention are riveted on Portia, and the conclusion leaves 
 the most delightful impression on the fancy. The playful 
 equivoque of the rings, the sportive trick she puts on her 
 husband, and her thorough enjoyment of the jest, which she 
 checks just as it is proceeding beyond the bounds of proprie- 
 ty, show how little she was displeased by the sacrifice of her 
 gift, and are all consistent with her bright and buoyant spirit. 
 In conclusion, when Portia invites her company to enter her 
 palace to refresh themselves after their travels, and talk over 
 " these events at full," the imagination, unwilling to lose sight 
 of the brilliant group, follows them in gay procession from the 
 lovely moonlight garden to marble halls and princely revels, 
 to splendor and festive mirth, to love and happiness. . . 
 
 It is observable that something of the intellectual brilliance 
 of Portia is reflected on the other female characters of The 
 Merchant of Venice so as to preserve in the midst of contrast 
 a certain harmony and keeping. Thus Jessica, though prop- 
 erly kept subordinate, is certainly 
 
 A most beautiful pagan — a most sweet Jew. 
 
 She cannot be called a sketch — or if a sketch, she is like one 
 of those dashed off in glowing colours from the rainbow pal- 
 ette of a Rubens ; she has a rich tinge of Orientalism shed 
 over her, worthy of her Eastern origin. In another play, and 
 
INTRODUCTION, 23 
 
 in any other companionship than that of the matchless Por- 
 tia, Jessica would make a very beautiful heroine of herself. 
 Nothing can be more poetically, more classically fanciful and 
 elegant than the scenes between her and Lorenzo — the cel- 
 ebrated moonlight dialogue, for instance, which we all have 
 by heart. Every sentiment she utters interests us for her — 
 more particularly her bashful self-reproach, when flying in the 
 disguise of a page : 
 
 I am glad 'tis night, you do not look upon me. 
 For I am much asham'd of my exchange ; 
 But love is blind, and lovers cannot see 
 The pretty follies that themselves commit ; 
 For if they could, Cupid himself would blush 
 To see me thus transformed to a boy. 
 
 And the enthusiastic and generous testimony to the superior 
 graces and accomplishments of Portia comes with a peculiar 
 grace from her lips : 
 
 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 
 Pawned with the other ; for the poor rude world 
 Plath not her fellow. 
 
 We should not, however, easily pardon her for cheating her 
 father with so much indifference but for the perception that 
 Shylock values his daughter far beneath his wealth : 
 
 I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear \ 
 — would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin ! 
 
 Nerissa is a good specimen of a common genus of charac- 
 ters ; she is a clever confidential waiting-woman, who has 
 caught a little of her lady's elegance and romance ; she af- 
 fects to be lively and sententious, falls in love, and makes 
 her favour conditional on the fortune of the caskets, and, in 
 short, mimics her mistress with good emphasis and discretion. 
 Nerissa and the gay, talkative Gratiano are as well matched 
 as the incomparable Portia and her magnificent and capti- 
 vating lover. 
 
24 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 [From Hazlitfs " Characters of Shahespear'* s Plays ^^ 
 This is a play that in spite of the change of manners and 
 prejudices still holds undisputed possession of the stage. . . . 
 In proportion as Shylock has ceased to be a popular bug- 
 bear, "baited with the rabble's curse/' he becomes a half- 
 favourite with the philosophical part of the audience, who 
 are disposed to think that Jewish revenge is at least as good 
 as Christian injuries. Shylock is a good hater ; "a man no 
 less sinned against than sinning.'' If he carries his revenge 
 too far, yet he has strong grounds for " the lodged hate he 
 bears Antonio," which he explains with equal force of elo- 
 quence and reason. He seems the depositary of the ven- 
 geance of his race ; and though the long habit of brooding 
 over daily insults and injuries has crusted over his temper 
 with inveterate misanthropy, and hardened him against the 
 contempt of mankind, this adds but little to the triumphant 
 pretensions of his enemies. There is a strong, quick, and 
 deep sense of justice mixed up with the gall and bitterness 
 of his resentment. The constant apprehension of being 
 burnt alive, plundered, banished, reviled, and trampled on, 
 might be supposed to sour the most forbearing nature, and 
 to take something from that "milk of human kindness" with 
 which his persecutors contemplated his indignities. The 
 desire of revenge is almost inseparable from the sense of 
 wrong ; and we can hardly help sympathizing with the proud 
 spirit hid beneath his "Jewish gaberdine," stung to madness 
 by repeated undeserved provocations, and labouring to throw 
 off the load of obloquy and oppression heaped upon him and 
 all his tribe by one desperate act of " lawful " revenge, till 
 the ferociousness of the means by which he is to execute his 
 purpose, and the pertinacity with which he adheres to it, turn 
 us against him ; but even at last, when disappointed of the 
 
 * Characters of Shakespear'^s Plays^ by William Hazlitt ; edited by W. 
 Carew Hazlitt (London, 1869), p. 189 fol. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 25 
 
 sanguinary revenge with which he had glutted his hopes, and 
 exposed to beggary and contempt by the letter of the law 
 on which he had insisted with so little remorse, we pity him, 
 and think him hardly dealt with by his judges. In all his 
 answers and retorts upon his adversaries, he has the best 
 not only of the argument but of the question, reasoning on 
 their own principles and practice. They are so far from al- 
 lowing of any measure of equal dealing, of common justice 
 or humanity between themselves and the Jew, that even 
 when they come to ask a favour of him, and Shylock re- 
 minds them that on' such a day they spit upon him, another 
 spurned him, another called him dog, and for these courte- 
 sies they request he'll lend them so much money, Antonio, 
 his old enemy, instead of any acknowledgment of the shrewd- 
 ness and justice of his remonstrance, which would have been 
 preposterous in a respectable Catholic merchant in those 
 times, threatens him with a repetition of the same treat- 
 ment : 
 
 I am as like to call thee so again, 
 
 To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. 
 
 After this, the appeal to the Jew's mercy, as if there were 
 any common principle of right and wrong between them, is 
 the rankest hypocrisy or the blindest prejudice. . . . 
 
 The whole of the trial-scene, both before and after the en- 
 trance of Portia, is a masterpiece of dramatic skill. The 
 legal acuteness, the passionate declamations, the sound max- 
 ims of jurisprudence, the wit and irony interspersed in it, the 
 fluctuations of hope and fear in the different persons, and 
 the completeness and suddenness of the catastrophe, cannot 
 be surpassed. Shylock, who is his own counsel, defends 
 himself well, and is triumphant on all the general topics 
 that are urged against him, and only fails through a legal 
 flaw. . . . The keenness of his revenge awakes all his facul- 
 ties ; and he beats back all opposition to his purpose, wheth- 
 er grave or gay, whether of wit or argument, with an equal 
 
26 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 degree of earnestness and self-possession. His character is 
 displayed as distinctly in other less prominent parts of the 
 play, and we may collect from a few sentences the history 
 of his life^ — his descent and origin, his thrift and domestic 
 economy, his affection for his daughter, whom he loves next 
 to his wealth, his courtship and his first present to Leah his 
 wife! "I would not have given it (the ring which he first 
 gave her) for a wilderness of monkeys!" What a fine He- 
 braism is implied in this expression ! . . . 
 
 When we first went to see Mr. Kean in Shylock, w^e ex- 
 pected to see, what we had been used to see, a decrepit old 
 man, bent with age and ugly with mental deformity, grinning 
 with deadly malice, with the venom of his heart congealed in 
 the expression of his countenance,""sullen, morose, gloomy, 
 inflexible, brooding over one idea, that of his hatred, and 
 fixed on one unalterable purpose, that of his revenge. We 
 were disappointed, because w^e had taken our idea from oth- 
 er actors, not from the play. There is no proof there that 
 Shylock is old, but a single line, " Bassanio and old Shylock, 
 both stand forth" — which does not imply that he is infirm 
 with age — and the circumstance that he has a daughter mar- 
 riageable, which does not imply that he is old at all. It 
 would be too much to say that his body should be made 
 crooked and deformed to answer to his mind, which is bowed 
 down and Warped with prejudices and passion. That he has 
 but one idea is not true j he has more ideas than any other 
 person in the piece; and if he is intense and inveterate in 
 the pursuit of his purpose, he shows the utmost elasticity, 
 vigour, and presence of mind, in the means of attaining it. 
 But so rooted was our habitual impression of the part from 
 seeing it caricatured in the representation, that it was only 
 from a careful perusal of the play itself that we saw our 
 error. The stage is not in general the best place to study 
 our author's characters in. It is too often filled with tradi- 
 tional commonplace conceptions of the part, handed down 
 
INTRODUCTION. 2 7 
 
 from sire to son, and suited to the taste of the great vulgar 
 and the small, " 'T is an unweeded garden ; things rank and 
 gross do merely gender in it.'"^ If a man of genius comes 
 once in an age to clear away the rubbish, to make it fruit- 
 ful and wholesome, they cry, " 'T is a bad school ; it may 
 be like nature, it may be like Shakespear, but it is not like 
 us." Admirable critics ! 
 
 [From Knighfs ^^ Pictorial Shaks^e^^y ^ - 
 
 Antonio is one of the most beautiful of Shakspere's char- 
 acters. He does not take a very prominent part in the 
 drama: he is a sufferer rather than an actor. We view him, 
 in the outset, rich, liberal, surrounded with friends ; yet he is 
 unhappy. He has higher aspirations than those which or- 
 dinarily belong to one dependent upon the chances of com- 
 merce ; and this uncertainty, as we think, produces his un- 
 happiness. He will not acknowledge the forebodings of evil 
 which come across his mind. Ulrici says, " It was the over- 
 great magnitude of his earthly riches, which, although his 
 heart was by no means dependent upon their amount, un- 
 consciously confined the free flight of his soul." We doubt 
 if Shakspere meant this. He has addressed the reproof of 
 that state of mind to Portia, from the lips of Nerissa : 
 
 Portia. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great 
 world. 
 
 Nerissa. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the 
 
 * Hazlitt is evidently quoting from memory. The reading in Ham. i. 
 2. 135 is: 
 
 't is an unweeded garden 
 That grows to seed ; things rank and gross in nature 
 Possess it merely. 
 Shakespeare uses the verb gender only in 0th. iv. 2. 63 : 
 
 a cistern for foul toads 
 To knot and gender in. 
 t Pictorial Edition of Shakspere, edited by Charles Knight (2d ed. Lon- 
 don, 1867), vol. i. of Comedies, p. 452 fol. 
 
28 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 same abundance as your good fortunes are; and yet, for aught I see, 
 they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve ivith nothing. 
 
 Antonio may say — 
 
 In sooth, I know not why I am so sad ; 
 
 but his reasoning denial of the cause of his sadness is a 
 proof to us that the foreboding of losses — 
 Enow to press a royal merchant down, 
 
 is at the bottom of his sadness. It appears to us as a self- 
 delusion, which his secret nature rejects, that he says, 
 
 My ventures are not in one bottom trusted. 
 Nor to one place ; nor is my whole estate 
 Upon the fortune of this present year : 
 Therefore, my merchandize makes me not sad. 
 
 When he has given the fatal bond, he has a sort of desperate 
 confidence, which to us looks very unlike assured belief : 
 
 Why, fear not, man, I will not forfeit it ; 
 
 Within these two months, that 's a month before 
 
 This bond expires, I do expect return 
 
 Of thrice three times the value of this bond. 
 
 And, finally, when his calamity has become a real thing, and 
 not a shadowy notion, his deportment shows that his mind 
 has been long familiar with images of ruin : 
 
 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 a misery doth she cut me off. 
 
 The generosity of Antonio's nature unfitted him for a contest 
 with the circumstances amid which his lot was cast. The 
 Jew says — 
 
 In low simplicity, 
 He lends out money gratis. 
 
INTRODUCTION, « 29 
 
 He himself says — ' 
 
 I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures 
 
 Many that have at times made moan to me. 
 
 Bassanio describes him, as 
 
 The kindest man, 
 The best conditioned and unwearied spirit 
 In doing courtesies. 
 
 To snch a spirit, whose "means are in supposition" — whose 
 ventures are "squandered abroad" — the curse of the Jew 
 must have sometimes presented itself to his own prophetic 
 mind: 
 
 This is the fool that lends out money gratis. 
 
 Antonio and his position are not in harmony. But there is 
 something else discordant in Antonio's mind. This kind 
 friend — this generous benefactor — this gentle spirit^this 
 man "unwearied in doing courtesies" — can outrage and in- 
 sult a fellow-creature, because he is of another creed : 
 
 Shylock. Fair sir, you spet on me on Wednesday last ; 
 You spurn'd me such a day ; another time 
 You call'd me dog ; and for these courtesies 
 I '11 lend you thus much moneys. 
 
 Antonio. I am as like to call thee so again; 
 To spet on thee again, to spurn thee too. 
 
 Was it without an object that Shakspere made this man, so 
 entitled to command our affections and our sympathy, act so 
 unworthy a part, and not be ashamed of the act.'* Most 
 assuredly the poet did not intend to justify the indignities 
 which were heaped upon Shylock ; for in the very strongest 
 way he has made the Jew remember the insult in the prog- 
 ress of his wild revenge : 
 
 Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause : 
 But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs. 
 
 Here, to our minds, is the first of the lessons of charity which 
 this play teaches. Antonio is as much to be pitied for his 
 
30 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 prejudices as the Jew for. his. They had both been nurt- 
 ured in evil opinions. They had both been surrounded by 
 influences which more or less held in subjection their better 
 natures. The honoured Christian is as intolerant as the de- 
 spised Jew. The one habitually pursues with injustice the 
 subjected man that he has been taught to loathe ; the other, 
 in the depths of his subtle obstinacy, seizes upon the occa- 
 sion to destroy the powerful man that he has been compelled 
 to fear. The companions of Antonio exhibit, more or less, 
 the same reflection of the prejudices which have become to 
 them a second nature. They are not so gross in their prej- 
 udices as Launcelot, to whom "the Jew is the very' devil 
 incarnation." But to Lorenzo, who is about to marry his 
 daughter, Shylock is a "faithless Jew." When the unhappy 
 father is bereft of all that constituted the solace of his home, 
 and before he has manifested that spirit of revenge which 
 might well call for indignation and contempt, he is to the 
 gentlemanly Salanio "the villain Jew," and "the dog Jew." 
 When the unhappy man speaks of his daughter's flight, he is 
 met with a brutal jest on the part of Salarino, who, within 
 his own circle, is the pleasantest of men : " I, for my part, 
 knew the tailor that made the wings she flew withal." We 
 can understand the reproaches that are heaped upon Shy- 
 lock in the trial scene, as something that might come out of 
 the depths of any passion-stirred nature ; but the habitual 
 contempt with which he is treated by men who in every oth- 
 er respect are gentle and good-humoured and benevolent, is 
 a proof to us that Shakspere meant to represent the struggle 
 that must inevitably ensue, in a condition of society where 
 the innate sense of justice is deadened in the powerful by 
 those hereditary prejudices which make cruelty virtue; and 
 where the powerless, invested by accident with the means of 
 revenge, say with Shylock, "The villany you teach me I will 
 execute ; and it shall go hard but I will better the instruc- 
 tion." The climax of this subjection of our higher and bet- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 31 
 
 ter natures to conventional circumstances is to be found in 
 the character of the Jew's daughter. Young, agreeable, in- 
 telligent, formed for happiness, she is shut up by her father 
 in a dreary solitude. One opposed to her in creed gains her 
 affections ; and the ties which bind the father and the child 
 are broken forever. But they are not broken without com- 
 punction : 
 
 Alack !. what heinous sin is it in me 
 To be asham'd to be niy father's child. 
 
 This is nature. But when she has fled from him — robbed 
 him — spent fourscore ducats in one night — given his tur- 
 quoise for a monkey — and, finally, revealed his secrets, with 
 an evasion of the ties that bound them, which makes one's 
 flesh creep, 
 
 When I was with him^ 
 
 we see the poor girl plunged into the most wretched contest 
 between her duties and her pleasures by the force of external 
 circumstances. We grant, then, to all these our compassion ; 
 for they commit injustice ignorantly, and through a force 
 which they cannot withstand. Is tiie Jew himself not to be 
 measured by the same rule ? We believe that it was Shak- 
 spere's intention so to measure him. 
 
 When Pope exclaimed of Macklin's performance of Shy- 
 lock, 
 
 This is the Jew 
 
 That Shakspere drew ! 
 
 the higher philosophy of Shakspere was little appreciated. 
 Macklin was, no doubt, from all traditionary report of him, 
 perfectly capable of representing the subtlety of the Jew's 
 malice and the energy of his revenge. But it is a question 
 with us, whether he perceived, or indeed if any actor ever 
 efficiently represented, the more delicate traits of character 
 that lie beneath these two great passions of the Jew's heart. 
 Look, for example, at the extraordinary mixture of the per- 
 
32 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 sonal and the national in his dislike of Antonio. He hates 
 him for his gentle manners: 
 
 How like a fawning publican he looks ! 
 
 He hates him, ''for he is a Christian ;" he hates him, for that 
 
 *'he lends out money gratis;" but he hates him more than 
 
 all, because 
 
 He hates our sacred nation. 
 
 It is this national feeling which, when carried in a right di- 
 rection, makes a patriot and a hero, that assumes in Shylock 
 the aspect of a grovelling and fierce personal revenge. He 
 has borne insult and injury "with a patient shrug ;" but ever 
 in small matters he has been seeking retribution : 
 
 I am not bid for love, they flatter me ; 
 But yet I '11 go in hate, to feed upon 
 The prodigal Christian. 
 
 The mask is at length thrown off — he has the Christian in 
 his power ; and his desire of revenge, mean and ferocious as 
 it is, rises into sublimity, through the unconquerable energy 
 of the oppressed man's wilfulness. "I am a Jew : Hath 
 not a Jew eyes ? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, 
 senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt 
 with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed 
 by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter 
 and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not 
 bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poison us, 
 do we not die ? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge ? 
 If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that." 
 It is impossible, after this exposition of his feelings, that we 
 should not feel that he has properly cast the greater portion 
 of the odium which belongs to his actions upon the social 
 circumstances by which he has been hunted into madness. 
 He has been made the thing he is by society. In the ex- 
 treme wildness of his anger, when he utters the harrowing 
 imprecation, — " I would my daughter were dead at my foot, 
 
IN TROD C/CTION. -y -> 
 
 and the jewels in her ear! Would she were hearsed at my 
 foot, and the ducats in her coffin ;" the tenderness that be- 
 longs to our common humanity, even in its most passionate 
 forgetfulness of the dearest ties, comes across him in the re- 
 membrance of the mother of that execrated child: — "Out 
 upon her ! Thou torturest me, Tubal : it was my turquoise ; 
 I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor." 
 
 It is in the conduct of the trial scene that, as it appears to 
 us, is to be sought the concentration of Shakspere's leading 
 idea in the composition of this drama. The merchant stands 
 before the Jew a better and a wiser man than when he called 
 him 'Mog:" 
 
 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. 
 
 Misfortune has corrected the influences which, in happier 
 moments, allowed him to forget the gentleness of his nature, 
 and to heap unmerited abuse upon him whose badge was 
 sufferance. The Jew is unchanged. But if Shakspere in 
 the early scenes made us entertain some compassion for his 
 wrongs, he has now left him to bear all the indignation which 
 we ought to feel against one " uncapable of pity." But we 
 cannot despise the Jew. His intellectual vigour rises su- 
 preme over the mere reasonings by which he is opposed. 
 He defends his own injustice by the example of as great an 
 injustice of everyday occurrence — and no one ventures to 
 answer him : 
 
 You have among you many a purchased slave, 
 Which, like 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, 
 
 c 
 
34 THE MERCHANT OE VENICE. 
 
 The slaves are ours. — So do I answer you : 
 The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, 
 Is dearly bought ; 't is mine, and I will have it. 
 If you deny me, fie upon your law ! 
 
 It would have been exceedingly difficult for the merchant to 
 have escaped from the power of the obdurate man, so strong 
 in the letter of the law, and so resolute to carry it out by the 
 example of his judges in other matters, had not the law been 
 found here, as in most other cases, capable of being bent to 
 the will of its administrators. Had it been the inflexible 
 thing which Shylock required it to be, a greater injustice 
 would have been committed than the Jew had finally him- 
 self to suffer. ... 
 
 Had Shylock relented after that most beautiful appeal to 
 his mercy, which Shakspere has here placed as the exponent 
 of the higher principle upon which all law and right are es- 
 sentially dependent, the real moral of the drama would have 
 been destroyed. The weight of injuries transmitted to Shy- 
 lock from his forefathers, and still heaped upon him even by 
 the best of those by whom he was surrounded, was not so 
 easily to become light, and to cease to exasperate his nature. 
 Nor would it have been a true picture of society in the six- 
 teenth century had the poet shown the judges of the Jew 
 wholly magnanimous in granting him the mercy which he 
 denied to the Christian. We certainly do not agree with 
 the Duke, in his address to Shylock, that the conditions 
 upon which his life is spared are imposed — 
 
 That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit. 
 Nor do we think that Shakspere meant to hold up these con- 
 ditions as anything better than examples of the mode in 
 which the strong are accustomed to deal with the w^eak. 
 There is still something discordant in this, the real catas- 
 trophe of the drama. It could not be otherwise, and yet be 
 true to nature. 
 
 But how artistically has the poet restored the balance of 
 
INTRODUCTION, 35 
 
 pleasurable sensations! Throughout the whole conduct of 
 the play, what maybe called its tragic portion has been re- 
 lieved by the romance which belongs to the personal fate of 
 Portia. But after the great business of the drama is wound 
 up, we fall back upon a repose which is truly refreshing and 
 harmonious. From the lips of Lorenzo and Jessica, as they 
 sit in the "paler day" of an Italian moon, are breathed the 
 lighter strains of the most playful poetry, mingled with the 
 highest flights of the most elevated. Music and the odours 
 of sweet flowers are around them. Happiness is in their 
 hearts. Their thoughts are lifted by the beauties of the earth 
 above the earth. This delicious scene belongs to what is 
 universal and eternal^ and takes us far away from those bit- 
 ter strifes- of our social state which are essentially narrow 
 and temporary. And then come the affectionate w^elcomes, 
 the pretty, pouting contests, and the happy explanations of 
 Portia and Nerissa with Bassanio and Gratiano. Here again 
 we are removed into a sphere where the calamities of fort- 
 une, and the injustice of man warring against man, may be 
 forgotten. The poor Merchant is once more happy. The 
 "gentle spirit" of Portia is perhaps the happiest, for she has 
 triumphantly concluded a work as religious as her pretended 
 pilgrimage "by holy crosses." To use the words of Dr. Ul- 
 rici, " the sharp contrarieties of right and unright are played 
 out." 
 
 [From White's Intioduction to the P/ajy.*] 
 
 We find, then, that the story of this comedy, even to its epi- 
 sodic part and its minutest incidents, had been told again and 
 again long before Shakespeare was born — that even certain 
 expressions in it occur in the works of the preceding authors 
 — in Giovanni Fiorentino's version of the story of the Bond, 
 in the story of the Caskets, as told in the Gesfa Roniafiorum^ 
 in the ballad of Gernutus, and in Massuccio di Salerno's 
 * White's Shakespeare^ voU iy. p. 139. 
 
36 - THE MERCHAN1 OF VENICE. 
 
 novel about the girl who eloped from and robbed her miserly 
 father — and it is more than probable that even the combina- 
 tion of the first two of these had been made before The Mer- 
 chant of Venice w^as written. What then remains to Shake- 
 speare ? and what is there to show that he is not a plagiar- 
 ist? Everything that makes The Mercha?ii of Venice what it 
 is. The people are puppets, and the incidents are all in 
 these old stories. They are mere bundles of barren sticks 
 that the poet's touch causes to bloom like Aaron's rod : they 
 are heaps of dry bones till he clothes them with human flesh 
 and breathes into them the breath of life. Antonio^ gi"ave, 
 pensive, prudent save in his devotion to his young kinsman, 
 as a Christian hating the Jew, as a royal merchant despising 
 the usurer; Bassanio^ lavish yet provident, a generous gentle- 
 man although a fortune-seeker, wise although a gay gallant, 
 and manly though dependent; Gratiano^y^ho unites the not 
 too common virtues of thorough good nature and unselfish- 
 ness with the sometimes not unserviceable fault of talking for 
 talk's sake ; Shylock, crafty and cruel, whose revenge is as 
 mean as it is fierce and furious, whose abuse never rises to 
 invective, and who has yet some dignity of port as the aven- 
 ger of a nation's wrongs, some claim upon our sympathy as 
 a father outraged by his only child ; and Portia^ matchless 
 impersonation of that rare woman who is gifted even more in 
 intellect than loveliness, and who yet stops gracefully short 
 of the offence *of intellectuality — these, not to notice minor 
 characters no less perfectly organized or completely devel- 
 oped after their kind — these, and the poetry which is their 
 atmosphere, and through which they beam upon us, all radi- 
 ant in its golden light, are Shakespeare's only ; and these it 
 is, and not the incidents of old and, but for these, forgotten 
 tales, that make The Mercha?it of Venice 2i priceless and im- 
 perishable dower to the queenly. city that sits enthroned upon 
 the sea — a dower of romance more bewitching than that of 
 her moonlit waters and beauty-laden balconies, (5f adornment 
 
INTRODUCTION, 37 
 
 more splendid than that of her pictured palaces, of hu- 
 man interest more enduring than that of her blood-stained 
 annals, more touching even than the sight of her faded 
 grandeur. 
 
 [From Dowden''s " Shakspei'e Primer.'''' *] 
 
 The distinction of Portia among Shakspere's women is 
 the union in her nature of high intellectual powers and de- 
 cision of will with a heart full of ardour and of susceptibility 
 -to romantic feelings. She has herself never known trouble 
 or sorrow, but prosperity has left -her generous and quick in 
 sympathy. Her noble use of wealth and joyous lite, sur- 
 rounded with flowers and fountains and marble statues and 
 music, stands in contrast over against the hard, sad, and con- 
 tracted life of Shylock, one of a persecuted tribe, absorbed 
 in one or two narrowing and intense passions — the love of 
 the money-bags he clutches and yet fails to keep, and his 
 hatred of the man who had scorned his tribe, insulted his 
 creed, and diminished his gains. Yet Shylock is not like 
 Marlowe's Jew, Barabas, a preternatural monster. Wolf- 
 like as his revenge shows him, we pity his joyless, solitary 
 life ; and when, ringed round in the trial scene with hostile 
 force, he stands firm upon his foothold of the law, there is 
 something sublime in his tenacity of passion and resolve. 
 But we feel that it is right that this evil strength should be 
 utterly crushed and quelled, and when Shylock leaves the 
 court a broken man, we know it is needful that this should 
 be so. 
 
 The choosing of the caskets shows us Portia, who will 
 strictly interpret the law of Venice for Shylock and Antonio, 
 loyally abiding by the provisions which her father has laid 
 down in her own case. And Bassanio is ennobled in our 
 eyes by his choice ; for the gold, silver, and lead of the 
 caskets, with their several inscriptions, are a test of true 
 
 '^^ Literature Prime? s : Shaksperey by Edward Dowden, LL,D. (Loji- 
 don, 1878), p. 95 foL 
 
38 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 lovers. Bassanio does not come as a needy adventurer to 
 choose the golden casket, or to "gain" or "get" anything, 
 but in the true spirit of self-abandoning love " to give," not 
 to get, " and hazard all he hath ;" and having dared to give 
 all he gains all. 
 
 The lyrical boy -and -girl love of Lorenzo and Jessica 
 brings out by contrast the grave and glad earnestness of 
 Portia's love and Bassanio's. Jessica has not a thought of 
 loyalty to her father — nor is it to be expected. The lyrical . 
 passages between Lorenzo and Jessica in the moonlit gar- 
 den, ending with the praise of music, contrast with Portia's 
 generalizing reflections (the wake of thought still undulating 
 after her great intellectual effort at the trial), suggested by 
 the light seen and music heard as she approaches her house, 
 and by her failing to receive any pleasure from the music 
 which Lorenzo has so eloquently praised. 
 
 The comedy must end mirthfully. After the real struggle 
 and the strain of interest respecting Antonio's fate, we pass 
 on to the playful differences about the rings; from the court 
 of justice at Venice we are carried to the luminous night in 
 the gardens of Belmont. Even Antonio's ships must not be 
 lost; a moment of happiness after trouble cannot be too 
 perfect. 
 
THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS, 
 
 The Duke of Venice. 
 
 The Prince of Morocco, \ -^ ^ -r> .• 
 
 The Prince of Arragon, \ ^^'^^^"^ *^ P^^^^^' 
 
 Antonio, the Merchant of Venice. 
 
 Bassanio, his friend. 
 
 Salanio, 
 
 Salakino, \ friends to Antonio and Bassanio. 
 
 Gratiano, , 
 
 Lorenzo, in love with Jessica. 
 
 Shyi.ock, a Jew. 
 
 Tubal, a Jew, his friend. 
 
 Launcelot Gobbo, a clown. 
 
 Old Gobbo, father to Launcelot. 
 
 Salerio, a messenger. 
 
 Leonardo, servant to Bassanio. 
 
 BaLTHASAR, ( ^ ^ r) *• 
 
 Stephano, ^ '^"^^"'^ ^^ ^°'^^^- 
 
 Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, 
 Gaoler, Servants, and other Attendants. 
 
 Partly at Ve7iice^ and partly at Behnont. 
 
ACT I. 
 
 Scene I. Venice, A Street. 
 Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Salanio. 
 
 Antonio. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad : 
 It wearies me, you say it wearies you ; 
 But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, 
 What stuff 't is made of, whereof it is born, 
 I am j:o learn \ 
 
 And such a want-wit sadness makes of me. 
 That I have much ado to know myself. 
 
 Salarino. Your mind is tossing on the ocean ; 
 There, where your argosies with portly sail, 
 
42 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, ic 
 
 Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea, 
 
 Do overpeer the petty traffickers, 
 
 That curtsy to them, do them reverence, 
 
 As they fly by them with their woven wings. 
 
 Salanio. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth. 
 The better part of my affections would 
 Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still 
 Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind. 
 Peering in maps for ports, and piers, and roads ; 
 And every object that might make me feaf 20 
 
 Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt. 
 Would make me sad. 
 
 Salarino. My wind, cooling my broth, 
 
 Would blow me to an ague, when I thought 
 What harm a wind too great might do at sea. 
 I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, 
 But I should think of shallows and of flats. 
 And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, 
 Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs. 
 To kiss her burial. Should I go to church. 
 And see the holy edifice of stone, 30 
 
 And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, 
 Which, touching but my gentle vessel's side. 
 Would scatter all her spices on the stream, 
 Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, 
 And, in a word, but even now worth this. 
 And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought 
 To think on this, and shall I lack the thought 
 That such a thing bechanc'd would make me sad ? 
 But tell not me; I know, Antonio 
 Is sad to think upon his merchandise. 4^ 
 
 Antonio. Believe me, no. I thank my fortune for it, 
 My ventures are not in one bottom trusted. 
 Nor to one place ; nor is my whole estate 
 
ACT I. SCENE L 
 
 43 
 
 Upon the fortune of this present year : 
 Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. 
 
 Salarino, Why, then you are in love. 
 
 Antonio. Fie, fie ! 
 
 Salarino. Not in love neither ? Then let us* say you 're sad 
 Because you are not merry; and 't were as easy 
 For you to laugh and leap, and say you 're merry 
 Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, 50 
 Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: 
 Some that will evermore peep through their eyes 
 And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper; 
 And other of such vinegar aspect 
 That they '11 not show their teeth in way of smile. 
 Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. 
 
 Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano. 
 
 Salafiio. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, 
 Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well ; 
 We leave you now with better company. 
 
 Salarino. I would have stay'd till I had made you merry, 
 If worthier friends had not prevented me. 61 
 
 Antonio. Your worth is very dear in my regard. 
 I take it, your own business calls on you. 
 And you embrace the occasion to depart. 
 
 Salarino. Good morrow, my good lords. 
 
 Bassanio. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh ? Say, 
 when? 
 You grow exceeding strange; must it be so? 
 
 Salarino. We '11 make our leisures to attend on yours. 
 
 \Exeunt Salarino and Salanio. 
 
 Lorenzo. My Lord Bassanio, since you 've found Antonio, 
 We two will leave you ; but at dinner-time, 70 
 
 I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. 
 
 Bassanio. I will not fail you. 
 
 Gratiano. You look not well, Signior Antonio ; 
 
44 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 You have too much respect upon the world : 
 They lose it that do buy it with much care. 
 Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd. 
 
 Antonio, I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano ; 
 A stage where every man must play a part. 
 And mine a sad one. 
 
 Gratiano. Let me play the fool ; 
 
 With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, 8> 
 
 And let my liver rather heat with wine 
 Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. 
 Why should a man whose blood is warm within 
 Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ? 
 Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice 
 By being peevish ? I tell thee what, Antonio — 
 I love thee, and it is my love that speaks- — 
 There are a sort of men whose visages 
 Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond, 
 And do a wilful stillness entertain, g> 
 
 With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion 
 Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit ; 
 As who should say, ' I am Sir Oracle, 
 And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!' 
 
 my Antonio, I do know of these 
 That therefore only are reputed wise 
 
 For saying nothing ; when, I am very sure, 
 
 If they should speak, would almost damn those ears 
 
 Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools. 
 
 1 '11 tell thee more of this another time ; ,00 
 But fish not, with this melancholy bait. 
 
 For this fool-gudgeon, this opinion. — 
 Come, good Lorenzo. — Fare ye well a while; 
 I '11 end my exhortation after dinner. 
 
 Lorenzo. Well, we will leave you, then, till dinner-time. 
 I must be one of these same dumb wise men. 
 For Gratiano never lets me speak. 
 
ACT L SCENE /. 45 
 
 Gratiano. Well, keep me company but two years moe, 
 Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. 
 
 A?ito?iio. Farewell; I '11 grow a talker for this gear. xio 
 
 Gratiano. Thanks, i' faith ; for silence is only commendable 
 In a neat's tongue dried. \^Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo. 
 
 Antonio. Is that any thing now ? 
 
 Bassanio. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, 
 more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two 
 grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff ; you shall seek 
 all day ere you find them, and when you have them they 
 are not worth the search. 
 
 Antonio. Well, tell me now, what lady is the same 
 To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, 120 
 
 That you to-day promised to tell me of? 
 
 Bassanio. 'T is not unknown to you, Antonio, 
 How much I have disabled mine estate. 
 By something showing a more swelling port 
 Than my faint means would grant continuance: 
 Nor do I now make moan to be abridgM 
 From such a noble rate; but my chief care 
 Is to come fairly off from the great debts 
 Wherein my time, something too prodigal. 
 Hath left me gag'd. To you, Antonio, 130 
 
 I owe the most, in money and in love ; 
 And from your love I have a warranty 
 To unburthen all my plots and purposes, 
 How to get clear of all the debts I owe. 
 
 Antonio. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it ; 
 And if it stand, as you yourself still do. 
 Within the eye of honour, be assur'd, 
 My purse, my person, my extremes! means. 
 Lie all unlock'd to your occasions. 
 
 Bassanio. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, 
 I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight " 141 
 
 The selfsame way, with more advised watch, 
 
46 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 To find the other forth ; and by adventuring both 
 
 I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof, 
 
 Because what follows is pure innocence. 
 
 I owe you much, and, like a wilful youth, 
 
 That which I owe is lost; but if you please 
 
 To shoot another arrow that self way 
 
 Which you did shoot the first, I dojiot doubt, 
 
 As I will watch the aim, or to find both, 150 
 
 Or bring your latter hazard back again. 
 
 And thankfully rest debtor for the first. 
 
 Antonio. You know me well, and herein spend but time 
 To wind about my love with circumstance ; 
 And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong 
 In making question of my uttermost. 
 Than if you had made waste of all I have. 
 Then do but say to me what I should do, 
 That in your knowledge may by me be done. 
 And I am prest unto it; therefore speak. 160 
 
 Bassanio. In Belmont is a lady richly left ; 
 And she is fair and, fairer than that word. 
 Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyes 
 I did receive fair speechless messages. 
 Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalued 
 To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia : 
 Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth ; 
 For the four winds blow in from every coast 
 Renowned suitors ; and her sunny locks 
 Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; 170 
 
 Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand, 
 And many Jasons come in quest of her. 
 
 my Antonio, had I but the means 
 To hold a rival place with one of them, 
 
 1 have a mind presages me such thrift 
 That I should questionless be fortunate. 
 
 Antonio. Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea; 
 
ACT L SCENE I L 
 
 47 
 
 Neither have I money nor commodity 
 
 To raise a present sum : therefore go forth ; 
 
 Try what my credit can in Venice do : iSo 
 
 That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, 
 
 To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. 
 
 Go, presently inquire, and so will I, 
 
 Where money is, and I no question make 
 
 To have it of my trust, or for my sake. \Exeunt, 
 
 Scene II. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House, 
 Enter Portia and Nerissa. 
 
 Portia. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of 
 this great world. 
 
 Nerissa. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries 
 were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are; and 
 yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too 
 much as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean hap- 
 piness, therefore, to be seated in the mean ; superfluity comes 
 sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. 
 
 Portia. Good sentences, and well pronounced. 
 
 Nerissa. They would be better, if well followed. lo 
 
 Portia. If to do were as easy as to know what were good 
 to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages 
 princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own 
 instructions; I can easier teach twenty what were good to be 
 done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. 
 The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper 
 leaps o'er a cold decree ; such a hare is madness, the youth, 
 to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel, the cripple. But 
 this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband. 
 — O me, the word * choose !' I may neither choose whom I 
 would, nor refuse whom I dislike ; so is the will of a living 
 daughter curbed by the will of a -dead father. Is it not hard, 
 Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none ">. 23 
 
48 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 Nerissa, Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men at 
 their death have good inspirations; therefore the lottery that 
 he hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead 
 — whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you — will, no 
 doubt, never be chosen by any rightly but one who you shall 
 rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection tow- 
 ards any of these princely suitors that are already come ? 30 
 
 Portia. I pray thee, over-name them, and as thou namest 
 them, I will describe them ; and, according to my description, 
 level at my affection. 
 
 Nerissa. First, there is the Neapolitan, prince. 
 
 Portia. Ay, that 's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but 
 talk of his horse ; and he makes it a great appropriation to 
 his own good parts, that he can shoe him himself 
 
 Nerissa. Then is there the County Palatine. 38 
 
 Portia. He doth nothing but frown, as who should say, 
 ' An you will not have me, choose.' He hears merry tales, 
 and smiles not; I fear he will prove the weeping philoso- 
 pher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness 
 in his youth. I had rather to be married to a death's-head 
 with a bone in his mouth than to either of these. God de- 
 fend me from these two ! 
 
 Nerissa. How say you by the French lord. Monsieur Le 
 Bon? 47 
 
 Portia. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a 
 man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker; but, he! 
 why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's, a better 
 bad habit of frowning than the Count Palatine: he is every 
 man in no man ; if a throstle sing, he falls straight a-caper- 
 ing; he will fence with his own shadow. If I should marry 
 him, I should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise 
 me, I would forgive him ; for if he love me to madness, I shall 
 never requite him. 
 
 Nerissa. What say you, then, to Falconbridge, the young 
 baron of Eno^land? 58 
 
ACT L SCENE II. 49 
 
 Portia. You know I say nothing to him, for he understands 
 not me, nor I him ; he hath neither Latin, French, nor Ital- 
 ian, and you will come into the court and swear that I have 
 a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's 
 picture; but, alas ! who can converse with a dumb show? 
 How oddly he is suited ! I think he bought his doublet in 
 Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and 
 his behaviour every where. 66 
 
 Nerissa. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour? 
 
 Portia. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him ; for he 
 borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he 
 would pay him again when he was able: I think the French- 
 man became his surety and sealed under for another. 71 
 
 Nerissa. How like you the young German, the Duke of 
 Saxony's nephew? 
 
 Portia. Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, and 
 most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk : when he is 
 best, he is a little worse than a man ; and when he is worst, 
 he is little better than a beast. An the worst fall that ever 
 fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him. 
 
 Nerissa. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right 
 casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you 
 should refuse to accept him. 81 
 
 Portia. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee, set a 
 deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket ; for if 
 the devil be within and that temptation without, I know he 
 will choose it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I will be mar- 
 ried to a sponge. 
 
 Nerissa. You need not fear, lady, the having any of th^e 
 lords: they have acquainted me with their determinations; 
 which is, indeed, to return to their home, and to trouble you 
 with no more suit, unless you may be won by some other sort 
 than your father's imposition depending on the caskets. 91 
 
 Portia. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste' 
 as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's 
 
 I) 
 
JO THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 will. I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable, for 
 there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence ; 
 and I wish them a fair departure. 
 
 Nerissa, Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, 
 a Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came hither in com- 
 pany of the Marquis of Montferrat ? 
 
 Portia. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio ; as I think, so was he 
 called. loi 
 
 Nerissa. True, madam ; he, of all the men that ever my 
 foolish. eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady. 
 
 Portia. I remember him well, and I remember him worthy 
 of thy praise. 
 
 Enter ^Servant. 
 
 Servant. The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take 
 their leave; and there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the 
 Prince of Morocco, who brings word the prince his master 
 will be here to-night. 109 
 
 Portia. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good heart 
 as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his 
 approach ; if he have the condition of a saint, and the com- 
 plexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than 
 wive me. 
 
 Come, Nerissa. — Sirrah, go before. 
 
 Whiles we shut the gates upon one wooer, another knocks at 
 the door. \^Exeunt, 
 
 Scene III. Venice. A Public Place. 
 Enter Bassanio a^id Shylock. 
 Shylock. Three thousand ducats, — well. 
 Bassanio. Ay, sir, for three months. 
 Shylock. For three months,— well. 
 
 Bassanio. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound. 
 Shylock. Antonio shall become bound, — well. 
 
ACT L SCENE II L 
 
 51 
 
 Bassanio, May you stead me ? Will you pleasure me ? 
 Shall I know your answer? 
 
 Shylock, Three thousand ducats for three months, and An- 
 tonio bound, 
 
 Bassanio. Your answer to that. 10 
 
 Shylock. Antonio is a good man. 
 
 Bassanio. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary? 
 
 Shylock. Ho, no, no, no, no j my meaning, in saying he is 
 a good man, is to have you understand me that he is suffi- 
 cient. Yet his meatis are in supposition : he hath an argosy 
 bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies ; I understand, more- 
 over, upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for 
 England, and other ventures he hath, squandered abroad. 
 But ships are but boards, sailors but men : there be land- 
 rats and water-rats, land-thieves and water-thieves, — I mean 
 pirates ; and then there is the peril of waters, winds, and 
 rocks. The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient. Three thou- 
 sand ducats, — I think I may take his bond. 23 
 
 Bassanio. Be assured you may. 
 
 Shylock. I will he assured I may; and that I may be as- 
 sured, I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio? 
 
 Bassanio. If it please you to dine with us. 
 
 Shylock. Yes, to smell pork ; to eat of the habitation which 
 your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into. I' will 
 buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and 
 so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor 
 pray with you. — What news on the Rialto ? — Who is he comes 
 here ? ' 33 
 
 Enter Antonio. 
 
 Bassanio. This is Signior Antonio. 
 
 Shylock. \Aside\ How like a fawning publican he looks ! 
 I hate him for he is a. Christian, 
 But more for that, in low simplicity, 
 He lends out money gratis, and brings down 
 
52 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 The rate of usance here with us in Venice. 
 
 If I can catch him once upon the hip, 40 
 
 I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. 
 
 He hates our sacred nation; and he rails, 
 
 Even there where merchants most do congregate, 
 
 On me, my bargains, and my w^ell-won thrift. 
 
 Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, 
 
 If I forgive him ! 
 
 Bassanio. Shylock, do you hear ? 
 
 Shylock. I am debating of my present" store ; 
 And, by the near guess of my memory, 
 I cannot instantly raise up the gross 
 
 Of full three thousand ducats. What of that .? 50 
 
 Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, 
 Will furnish me. But soft ! how many months 
 Do you desire ? — \To Antonio] Rest 3^our fair, good signior ; 
 Your worship was the last man in our mouths. 
 
 Antonio. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow 
 By taking nor by giving'of excess. 
 Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend, 
 I '11 break a custom. — Is he yet possess'd 
 How much you would ? 
 
 Shylock. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. 
 
 Antonio. And for three months. . 60 
 
 Shylock. I had forgot,— three months ; you told me so. 
 Well then, your bond ; and let me see — but hear you : 
 Methoug"ht you said you neither lend nor borrow 
 Upon advantage. 
 
 Antonio. I do never use it. 
 
 Shylock. When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban's sheep — 
 This Jacob from our holy Abram w^as, 
 As his wise mother wrought in his behalf, 
 The third. possessor; ay, he was the third — . 
 
 Antonio. And what of him? did he take interest ? 
 
 Shylock. No, not take interest, not, as you would say,' 70 
 
ACT I. SCENE in. 
 
 53 
 
 Directly interest ; mark what Jacob did. 
 
 When Laban and himself were compromised 
 
 That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied 
 
 Should fall as Jacob's hire, 
 
 The skilful shepherd pilFd me certain wands, 
 
 And stuck them up before the fulsome ewes, 
 
 Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time 
 
 Fall parti-colour'd lambs; and those were Jacob's. 
 
 This was a way to thrive, and he was blest ; 
 
 And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. 80 
 
 Antonio, This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for; 
 A thing not in his power to bring to pass, 
 But sway'd and fashioned by the hand of heaven. 
 W^as this inserted to make interest good.^ 
 Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams.^ 
 
 Shylock. I cannot tell ; I make it breed as fast. — 
 But note me, signior. 
 
 Antonio, Mark you this, Bassanio, 
 
 The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose. 
 An evil soul, producing holy witness. 
 
 Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, 90 
 
 A goodly apple rotten at the heart. 
 O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath ! 
 
 Shylock, Three thousand ducats,^ — 't is a good round sum. 
 Three months from twelve, — then, let me see the rate. 
 
 Antonio. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you t 
 
 Shylock. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft, 
 In the Rialto, you have rated me 
 About my moneys and my usances ; 
 Still have I borne it with a patient shrug, 
 For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. 100 
 
 You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog. 
 And spet upon my Jewish gaberdine. 
 And all for use of that which is mine own. 
 Well then, it now appears you need my help : 
 
54 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 Go to, then ; you come to me, and you say, 
 
 ' Shy]ock, we would have moneys:' you say so. 
 
 You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, 
 
 And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur 
 
 Over your threshold ; moneys is your suit. 
 
 What should! say to you? Should I not say, no 
 
 ^ Hath a dog money ? Is it possible 
 
 A cur should lend three thousand ducats V Or 
 
 Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key. 
 
 With bated breath and whispering humbleness, 
 
 Say this : 
 
 ' Fair sir, you spet on me on Wednesday last; 
 
 You spurn'd me such a day ; another time 
 
 You call'd me dog ; and for these courtesies 
 
 I '11 lend you thus much moneys ?' 
 
 Antonio. I am as like to call thee so again, lao 
 
 To spet on thee again, to spurn thee too. 
 If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not 
 As to thy friends; for when did friendship take 
 A breed of barren metal of his friend ? 
 But lend it rather to thine enemy ; 
 Who if he break, thou mayst with better face 
 Exact the penalty. 
 
 Shylock. Why, look you, how you storm ! 
 
 I would be friends with you, and have your love, 
 Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with. 
 Supply your present wants, and take no doit 130 
 
 Of usance for my moneys, and you '11 not hear me. 
 This is kind I offer. 
 
 JBassanio. This were kindness. 
 
 Shylock, This kindness will I show. 
 
 Go with me to a notary ; seal me there 
 Your single bond ; and, in a merry sport, 
 If you repay me not on such a day. 
 In such a place, such sum or sums as are 
 
ACT I. SCENE III. 55 
 
 Expressed in the condition, let the forfeit 
 
 Be nominated for an equal pound 
 
 Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken 140 
 
 In what part of your body pleaseth me. 
 
 Antonio. Content, i' faith ; I '11 seal to such a bond. 
 And say there is much kindness in the Jew. 
 
 Bassanio. You shall not seal to such a bond for me ; 
 I '11 rather dwell in my necessity. 
 
 Antonio. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it: 
 Within these two months — that 's a month before 
 This bond expires — I do expect return 
 Of thrice three times the value of this bond. 
 
 Shy lock. O fiither Abram ! what these Christians are, 150 
 Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect 
 The thoughts of others ! — Pray you, tell me this : 
 If he should break his day, what should I gain 
 By the exaction of the forfeiture? 
 A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man, 
 Is not so estimable, profitable neither, 
 As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say, 
 To buy his favour, I extend this friendship: 
 If he will take it, so ; if not, adieu ; 
 And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not. 160 
 
 Antonio. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond. 
 
 Shylock. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's. 
 Give him direction for this merry bond. 
 And I will go and purse the ducats straight, 
 See to my house, left in the fearful guard 
 Of an unthrifty knave, and presently 
 I will be with you. \^Exit. 
 
 Antonio. Hie thee, gentle Jew. — , 
 
 The Hebrew will turn Christian ; he grows kind. 
 
 Bassanio. I like not fair terms and a villain's mind. 
 
 AntoJiio. Come on : in this there can be no dismay ; 170 
 My ships come home a month before the day. [£xeunt. 
 
THE CASKETS. 
 
 ACT 11. 
 
 Scene I. Belmont, A Room in Portions House. 
 
 Flourish of Cornets, Enter the Prince of Morocco and his 
 
 train ; Portia, Nerissa, and others attending, 
 
 Morocco. Mislike me not for my complexion, 
 The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun, 
 To whom I am a neighbour and near bred. 
 Bring me the fairest creature northward born. 
 Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, ^ 
 
 And let us make incision for your love, 
 To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. 
 I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine 
 Hath fear'd the valiant ; by my love, I swear 
 The best-regarded virgins of our clime lo 
 
 Have lov'd it too. I would not change this hue, 
 Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen. 
 
ACT II. SCENE I 
 
 57 
 
 Portia, In terms of choice I am not solely led 
 By nice direction of a maiden's eyes ; 
 Besides, the lottery of my destiny 
 Bars me the right of voluntary choosing; 
 But if my father had Qot scanted me, 
 And hedg'd me by his wit, to yield myself 
 His wife who wins me by that means I told you, 
 Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair 20 
 
 As any comer I have look'd on yet, 
 For my affection. 
 
 Morocco. Even for that I thank you ; 
 
 Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets 
 To try my fortune. By this scimitar, 
 That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince 
 That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, 
 I would o'er-stare the sternest eyes that look, 
 Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth. 
 Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, 
 Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, 30 
 
 To win thee, lady. But, alas the while! 
 If Hercules and Lichas play at dice 
 Which is the better man, the greater throw 
 May turn by fortune from the weaker hand : 
 So is Alcides beaten by his page ; 
 And so may I, blind fortune leading me, 
 Miss that which one unworthier may attain. 
 And die with grieving. 
 
 Portia. You must take your chance ; 
 
 And either not attempt to choose at all. 
 Or swear, before you choose, if you choose wrong 40 
 
 Never to speak to lady afterward 
 In way of marriage : therefore be advis'd. 
 
 Morocco, Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance. 
 
 Portia. First, forward to the temple; after dinner 
 Your hazard shall be made. 
 
58 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Morocco. Good fortune then ! 
 
 len. 
 SjCornets^ and exeunt. 
 
 To make me blest or cursed'st among men 
 
 Scene II. Venice. A Street. 
 
 Enter Launcelot. 
 
 Launcelot. Certainly, my conscience will serve me to run 
 from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and 
 tempts me, saying to me, 'Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good 
 Launcelot,' or 'good Gobbo,' or ' good Launcelot Gobbo, use 
 your legs, take the start, run away.' My conscience says, 
 ' No; take heed, honest Launcelot ; take heed, honest Gob- 
 bo,' or, as aforesaid, ' honest Launcelot Gobbo ; do not run ; 
 scorn running with thy heels.' Well, the most courageous 
 fiend bids me pack: ' Via!' says the fiend ; 'away !' says the 
 fiend; 'for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,' says the 
 fiend, 'and run.' Well, my conscience, hanging about the 
 neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, ' My honest friend 
 Launcelot, being an honest man's son,' — or rather an honest 
 woman's son, — well, my conscience says, 'Launcelot, budge 
 not.' 'Budge,' says the fiend. 'Budge not,' says my con- 
 science. .'Conscience,' say I, 'you counsel well;' 'Fiend,' 
 say I, ' you counsel well :' to be ruled by my conscience, I 
 should stay with the Jew my master, who, God bless the 
 mark, is a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I 
 should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is 
 the devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarna- 
 tion ; and, in my conscience, my conscience is a kind of hard 
 conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The 
 fiend gives the more friendly counsel : I will run, fiend; my 
 heels are at your commandment ; I will run. 25 
 
 Enter Old Gobbo, with a basket. 
 
 Gobbo. Master young man, you ! I pray you, which is the 
 way to master Jew's? 
 
ACT II. SCENE II, 59 
 
 Launcelot. [Aside] O heavens ! this is my true-begotten 
 father, who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel-blind, 
 knows me not. — I will try confusions with him. 30 
 
 Gobbo. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the 
 way to master Jew's ? 
 
 Latmcelot. Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, 
 but at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the 
 very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly 
 to the Jew's house. 
 
 Gobbo. By God's sonties, 't will be a hard way to hit; Can 
 you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, 
 dwell with him or no? 
 
 Lau7icelot. Talk you of young Master Launcelot ? — \Aside\ 
 Mark me now ; now will I raise the waters. — \To hini\ Talk 
 you of young Master Launcelot ? 42 
 
 Gobbo. No master, sir, but a poor man's son ; his father, 
 though I say 't, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God 
 be thanked, well to live. 
 
 Lawtceloi. Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of 
 young Master Launcelot. 
 
 Gobbo. Your worship's friend and Launcelot. 
 
 Lauficelot. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech 
 you, talk you of young Master Launcelot ? 50 
 
 Gobbo. Of Launcelot, an 't please your mastership. 
 
 Launcelot, Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master 
 Launcelot, father ; for the young gentleman — according to 
 fates and destinies and such odd sayings, the sisters three 
 and such branches of learning — is indeed deceased, or, as 
 you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven. 
 
 Gobbo. Marry, God forbid ! the boy was the very staff of 
 my age, my very prop. 
 
 Launcelot. \Aside\ Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, 
 a-staff or a prop? \To him] Do you know me, father? 60 
 
 Gobbo. Alack the day ! I know you not, young gentleman ; 
 but, I pray you, tell me, is my bo3^ — God rest his soul ! — alive 
 or dead ? 
 
6o THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Lauftcelot, Do you not know me, father? 
 
 Gobbo. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind ; I know you not. 
 
 Launcelot. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might 
 fail of the knowing me ; it is a wise father that knows his 
 own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son. 
 \Kneels?^ Give me your blessing: truth will come to light ; 
 murther cannot be hid long; a man's son may, but in the 
 end truth will out. 71 
 
 Gobbo. Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you are not 
 Launcelot, my boy. 
 
 Launcelot. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, 
 but give me your blessing ; 1 am Launcelot, your boy that 
 was, your son that is, your child that shall bfe. 
 
 Gobbo. I cannot think you are my son. 
 
 Launcelot. I know not what I shall think of that ; but I am 
 Launcelot, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife 
 is my mother. 80 
 
 Gobbo. Her name is Margery, indeed \ I '11 be sworn, if 
 thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord 
 worshipped might he be! what a beard hast thou got ! thou 
 hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse 
 has on his tail. 
 
 Launcelot. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows 
 backward ; I am sure he had more hair of his tail than . I 
 have of my face, when I last saw him. 
 
 . Gobbo. Lord ! how art thou changed ! How dost thou 
 and thy master agree } I have brought him a present. How 
 gree you now 1 91 
 
 Launcelot. Well, well ; but, for mine own part, as I have 
 set up my rest, to run away, so 1 will not rest till I have run 
 some ground. My master's a very Jew : give him a present ! 
 give him a halter : I am famished in his service ; you may 
 tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you 
 are come : give me your present to one Master Bassanio, 
 who indeed gives rare new liveries ; if I serve not him, I will 
 
ACT IL SCENE I I. 6 1 
 
 run as far as God has any ground. — O rare fortune ! here 
 comes the man : — to him, father ; for I am a Jew if I serve 
 the Jew any longer. loi 
 
 Enter Bassanio, with Leonardo and other followers, 
 
 Bassanio. You may do so ; but let it be so hasted that 
 supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See 
 these letters delivered ; put the liveries to making, and desire 
 Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. \Exit a Servant. 
 
 Launcelot. To him, father. 
 
 Gobbo. God bless your worship ! 
 
 Bassanio, Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me.'' 
 
 Gobbo, Here's my son, sir, a poor boy, — 
 
 Launcelot. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man ; 
 that would, sir, as my father shall specify — m 
 
 Gobbo, He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to 
 serve — 
 
 Launcelot. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the 
 Jew, and have a desire, as my father shall specify, — 
 
 Gobbo, His master and he, saving your worship's rever- 
 ence, are scarce cater-cousins — 
 
 Launcelot, To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew, hav- 
 ing done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being, I 
 hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you, — 120 
 
 Gobbo, I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow 
 upon your worship ; and my suit is — 
 
 Launcelot. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, 
 as your worship shall know by this honest old man ; and, 
 though I say it, though old man, yet, poor man, my father. 
 
 Bassanio, One speak for both. — What would you 1 
 
 Launcelot, Serve you, sir. 
 
 Gobbo. That is the very defect of the matter, sir. 
 
 Bassanio, I know thee well ; thou hast obtain'd thy suit. 
 Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, 130 
 
 And hath preferr'd thee; if it be preferment 
 
62 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 To leave a rich Jew's service, to become 
 The follower of so poor a gentleman. 
 
 Lau7tcelot. The old proverb is very well parted between 
 my master Shylock and you, sir; you have the grace of God, 
 sir, and he hath enough. 
 
 Bassanio, Thou speak'st it well. — Go, father, with thy son. — 
 Take leave of thy old master, and inquire 
 My lodging out. — Give him a livery \To his followers. 
 
 More guarded than his fellows' ; see it done. 140 
 
 Launcelot Father, in. — I cannot get a service, no ; I have 
 ne'er a tongue in my head.— -Well, if any man in Italy have a 
 fairer table which doth offer to swear upon a book ! — I shall 
 have good fortune. — Go to, here 's a simple line of life ! here 's 
 a small trifle of wives : alas ! fifteen wives is nothing ! aleven 
 widows and nine" maids is a simple coming-in for one man ; 
 and then to scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my 
 life with the edge of a feather-bed,— here are simple scapes. 
 Well, if Fortune be a woman, she 's a good wench for this 
 gear. — Father, come ; I '11 take my leave of the Jew in the 
 twinkling of an eye. [^Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo, 
 
 Bassanio. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this. 152 
 These things being bought and orderly bestow'd, 
 Return in haste, for I do feast to-night 
 My best-esteem'd acquaintance ; hie thee, go. * 
 
 Leonardo. My best endeavours shall be done herein. 
 
 Enter Gratiano. 
 
 Gratia7io, Where is your master? 
 
 Leonardo, Yonder, sir, he walks. \Exit. 
 
 Gratiano. Signior Bassanio ! 
 Bassanio, Gratiano ! 
 Gratiano. I have a suit to you. 
 
 Bassanio. You have, obtained it. 160 
 
 Gratianio, You must not deny me. I must go with you to 
 Belmont. 
 
ACT II. SCENE III ' 63 
 
 Bassanio. Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano : 
 Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice, — 
 Parts that become thee happily enough 
 And in such eyes as ours appear not faults ; 
 But where they are not known, why, there they show 
 Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain 
 To allay with some cold drops of modesty 
 Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behaviour 170 
 
 I be misconstrued in the place I go to. 
 And lose my hopes. 
 
 Gratiano. Signior Bassanio, hear me : 
 
 If I do not put on a sober habit. 
 Talk with respect, and swear but now and then, 
 Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely, 
 Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes 
 Thus with my hat, and sigh,, and say ' amen,' 
 Use all the observance of civility, 
 Like one well studied in a sad ostent 
 To please his grandam, never trust me more. 180 
 
 Bassanio. Well, we shall see your bearing. 
 
 Gratiano. Nay, but I bar to-night j you shall not gauge me 
 By what we do to-night. 
 
 Bassanio. No, that were pity j 
 
 I would entreat you rather to put on 
 Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends* 
 That purpose merriment. But fare you well ; 
 I have some business. 
 
 Gratiano. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest; 
 But we will visit you at supper-time. \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IIL The Same. A Room in Shylock^s House. 
 
 Enter Jessica and Launcelot. 
 
 Jessica. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so ; 
 Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil, 
 
64 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness. 
 
 But fare thee well ; there is a dueat for thee. 
 
 And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see 
 
 Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest : 
 
 Give him this letter ; do it secretly ; 
 
 And so farewell ; I would not have my father 
 
 See me in talk with thee. 9 
 
 Laimcelot, Adieu ! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beauti- 
 ful pagan, most sweet Jew, adieu ! these foolish drops do 
 somewhat drown my manly spirit; adieu! 
 
 Jessica, Farewell, good Launcelot. — \^Exit Launcelot. 
 Alack, what heinous sin is it in me 
 To be asham'd to be my father's child ! 
 But though I am a daughter to his blood, 
 I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo ! 
 If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife, 
 Become a Christian and thy loving wife. \Exit, 
 
 Scene IV. The Same, A Street, 
 Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salartno, and Salanio. 
 
 Lorenzo. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time, 
 Disguise us at my lodging, and return, 
 All in an hour. 
 
 Gratiano, We have not made good preparation. 
 
 Salarino, We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. 
 . Salanio, 'T is vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd, 
 And better, in my mind, not undertook. 
 
 Lorenzo. 'T is now but four o'clock ; we have two hours 
 To furnish us. — 
 
 Enter Launcelot, with a letter. 
 
 Friend Launcelot, what 's the news? 9 
 Launcelot. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall 
 seem to signify. 
 
ACT IL SCENE V, 65 
 
 Lorenzo. 1 know the hand : in faith, 't is a fair hand ; 
 And whiter than the paper it writ on 
 Is the fair hand that writ. 
 
 Gratiano, Love-news, in faith. 
 
 Launcelot, By your leave, sir. 
 
 Lorenzo. Whither goest thou? 
 
 Launcelot. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup 
 to-night with my new master the Christian. 
 
 Lorenzo. Hold here, take this. — Tell gentle Jessica 
 I will not fail her ; — speak it privately. " ao 
 
 Go. — Gentlemen, {Exit Launcelot 
 
 Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? 
 I am provided of a torch-bearer. 
 
 Salarino. Ay, marry, I '11 be gone about it straight, 
 
 Salafzio. And so will I. 
 
 Lorenzo. Meet me and Gratiano 
 
 At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence. 
 
 Salarino. 'T is good we do so. \Exeunt Salarino and Satanio. 
 
 Gratiano. Was not that letter from fair Jessica? 
 
 LoreJizo. I must needs ie\\ thee all. She hath directed 
 How I shall take her from her father's houSe, 30 
 
 What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with, 
 What page's suit she hath in readiness: 
 If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven. 
 It will be for his gentle daughter's sake ; 
 And never dare misfqrtune cross her foot, 
 Unless she do it under this excuse, 
 -That she is issue to a faithless Jew. 
 Come, go with me ; peruse this as thou goest 
 Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. The Same. Before Shylock's House, 
 
 Enter Shylock and Launcelot. 
 
 Shylock. Well, thou shalt see ; thy eyes shall be thy judge, 
 
 E 
 
66 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio: — 
 What, Jessica ! — thou shalt not gormandize, 
 As thou hast done with me,— what, Jessica ! — 
 And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out. — 
 Why, Jessica, I say ! . 
 
 Launcelot. Why, Jessica ! 
 
 Shylock, Who bids thee call ? I do not bid thee call. 
 
 Launcelot, Your worship was wont to tell me I could do 
 nothing without bidding. 
 
 Enter Jessica. 
 
 Jessica, Call you ? what is your will? lo 
 
 Shylock, I am bid forth to supper, Jessica ; 
 There are my keys. — But wherefore should I go ? 
 I am not bid for love ; they flatter me : 
 But yet I '11 go in hate, to feed upon 
 The prodigal Christian. — Jessica, my girl. 
 Look to my house. — I am right loath to go ; 
 There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, 
 For I did dream of money-bags to-night. 
 
 Launcelot. I beseech you, sir, go ; my young master doth 
 expect your reproach. 20 
 
 Shylock, So do I hrs. 
 
 Lawicelot, And they have conspired together; — I will not 
 say you shall see a masque ; but if you do, then it was not 
 for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-Monday 
 last at six o'clock i' the morning, falling out that year on 
 Ash- Wednesday was four year in the afternoon. 
 
 Shylock. What! are there masques? — Hear you me, Jessica: 
 Lock up my doors ; and when you hear the drum 
 And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife, 
 Clamber not you up to the casements then, 3° 
 
 Nor thrust your head into the public street 
 To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces, 
 But stop my house's ears, — I mean my casements : 
 
ACT II. SCENE VI. 67 
 
 Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter 
 My sober house.— By Jacob's staff, I swear, 
 I have no mind of feasting forth to-night ; 
 But I will go. — Go you before me, sirrah ; 
 Say I will come. 
 
 Lawtcelot. I will go before, sir. — Mistress, look out at win- 
 dow, for all this : ^ 40 
 There will come a Christian by, 
 Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [^Exit. 
 
 Shy lock. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha ? 
 
 jfessica. His words were ' Farewell, mistress ;' nothing else. 
 
 Shylock. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder ; 
 Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day 
 More than the wild-cat : drones hive not with me ; 
 Therefore I part with him, and part with him 
 To one that I would have him help to waste 
 His borrow'd purse. — Well', Jessica, go in ; so 
 
 Perhaps I will return immediately. 
 Do as I bid you ; shut doors after you : 
 Fast bind, fast find ; 
 A proverb never stale in thrifty mind., {Exit. 
 
 yessica. Farewell ; and if my fortune be not crost, 
 I have a father, you a daughter, lost. \Exit. 
 
 Scene VI. The Same. 
 Enter Gratiano and Salarino, masqued. 
 
 Gratiano. This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo 
 Desir'd us to make stand. 
 
 Salarino. His hour is almost past. 
 
 Gratiaiio. And it is marvel he outdwells his hour. 
 For lovers ever run before the clock. 
 
 Salarino. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly 
 To seal love's bonds new-made, than they are wont 
 To keep obliged faith unforfeited ! 
 
eS THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Gratiano. That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast 
 With that keen appetite that he sits down ? 
 Where is the horse that doth untread again lo 
 
 His tedious measures with the unbated fire 
 That he did pace them first? All things that are 
 Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. 
 How^ like a younger, or a prodigal, 
 The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 
 Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wdnd ! 
 How like the prodigal doth she return. 
 With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails. 
 Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind ! 
 
 Salarino. Here comes Lorenzo. — More of this hereafter. 20 
 
 E7iter Lorenzo. 
 
 Lorenzo, Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode ; 
 Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait : 
 When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, 
 I '11 watch as long for you then. — Approach ; 
 Here dwells my father Jew. — Ho ! who 's within? 
 
 Enter Jessica, above ^ in boy's clothes, 
 
 yessica. Who are you ? Tell me, for more certainty, 
 Albeit I '11 swear that I do know your tongue. 
 
 Lorenzo, Lorenzo, and thy love. 
 
 Jessica, Lorenzo, certain ; and my love indeed, 
 For who love I so much ? And now who know^s 30 
 
 But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? 
 
 Lorenzo, Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou 
 art. 
 
 Jessica. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. 
 I am glad 't is night, you do not look on me, 
 For I am much asham'd of my exchange : 
 But love is blind and lovers cannot see 
 The pretty follies that themselves commit; 
 
ACT II. SCENE VI 69 
 
 For if they could, Cupid himself would blush 
 To see me thus transformed to a boy. 
 
 Lorenzo. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. 40 
 
 Jessica. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? 
 They in themselves, good sooth, are too-too light. 
 Why, 't is an office of discovery, love ; 
 And I should be obscured. 
 
 Lorenzo. So are you, sweet, 
 
 Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. 
 But come at once; 
 
 For the close night doth play the runaway, 
 And we are stay'd for at Bassanio's feast. 
 
 Jessica. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself 49 
 With some more ducats, and be with you straight. \^Exit above, 
 
 Gratiano. Now, by my hood, a Gentile and no Jew. 
 
 Lorenzo. Beshrew me but I love her heartily ! 
 For she is wise, if I can judge of her ; 
 And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true ; 
 And true she is, as she hath prov'd herself; 
 And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, 
 Shall she be placed in my constant soul. — 
 
 Enter Jessica, below. 
 
 What, art thou come i* — On, gentlemen ; away ! 
 Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. 
 
 [^Exit with Jessica and Salarino. 
 
 Enter Antonio. 
 
 Anto?tio. Who *s there ? 60 
 
 Gratiano. Signior Antonio ! 
 
 Antonio. Fie, fie, Gratiano ! where are all the rest '^. 
 'T is nine o'clock ; our friends all stay for you. 
 No masque to-night : the wind is come about ; 
 Bassanio presently will go aboard. 
 I have sent twenty out to seek for you. 
 
yo THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Gratiano. I am glad on 't; I desire no more delight 
 Than to be under sail and gone to-night. \Exeunt» 
 
 Scene VII. Bebnont. A Room in Portia's House, 
 
 Flourish of cornets. Enter Portia, with the Prince of 
 
 Morocco, and their trains, 
 
 Portia, Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover 
 The several caskets to this noble prince. — 
 Now make your choice. 
 
 Morocco, The first, of gold, who this inscription bears, 
 ' Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire,^ 
 The second, silver, which this promise carries, 
 ' Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves,^ 
 This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, 
 ^ Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.^ 
 How shall I know if I do choose the right ? lo 
 
 Portia, The one of them contains my picture, prince ; 
 If you choose that, then I am yours withal. 
 
 Morocco, Some god direct my judgment ! Let me see ; 
 I will survey the inscriptions back again. 
 What says this leaden casket 1 
 ' Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.^ 
 Must give— for- what 1 For lead ? Hazard for lead "t 
 This casket threatens. Men that hazard all 
 Do it in hope of fair advantages : 
 
 A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross ; • -lo 
 
 I '11 then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. 
 What sa3^s the silver with her virgin hue? 
 ' Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.^ 
 As much as he deserves ? Pause there, Morocco, 
 And weigh thy value with an even hand : 
 If thou be'st rated by thy estimation. 
 Thou dost deserve enough ; and yet enough 
 May not extend so far as to the lady : 
 
ACT IL SCENE VII. 71 
 
 And yet to be afeard of my deserving 
 
 Were but a weak disabling of myself . 30 
 
 As much as I deserve ? VVhy, that 's the lady : 
 
 I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, 
 
 In graces and in qualities of breeding; 
 
 But more than these, in love I do deserve. 
 
 What if I stray'd no further, but chose here ? — 
 
 Let ^s see once more this saying graved in gold ; 
 
 * Who chooseth me shall gain what many meji desire J 
 
 Why, that 's the lady : all the world desires her ; 
 
 From the four corners of the earth they come. 
 
 To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint. 40 
 
 The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds 
 
 Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now 
 
 For princes to come view fair Portia. 
 
 The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head 
 
 Spets in the face of heaven, is no bar 
 
 To stop the foreign spirits, but they come. 
 
 As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia. 
 
 One of these three contains her heavenly picture. 
 
 Is 't like that lead contains her? 'T were damnation 
 
 To think so base a thought j it were too gross 50 
 
 To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave. 
 
 Or shall I think in silver she 's immur'd. 
 
 Being ten times undervalued to tried gold ? 
 
 O sinful thought ! Never so rich a gem 
 
 Was set in worse than gold. They have in England 
 
 A coin that bears the figure of an angel 
 
 Stamped in gold, but that 's insculp'd upon ;. 
 
 But here an angel in a golden bed 
 
 Lies all within. — Deliver me the key ; 
 
 Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may ! 60 
 
 Portia, There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there, 
 Then I am yours. \He unlocks the golden casket,' 
 
 Morocco. O hell ! what have we here ? 
 
72 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 A carrion death, within whose empty eye 
 There is a written scroll ! I '11 read the writing. 
 ^All that glisters is 7iot gold; 
 Often have you heard that told : 
 Many a man his life hath sold, 
 But my outside to behold; 
 Gilded tombs do worms infold. 
 
 Had you been as wise as bold, 70 
 
 Young in limbs, in judgme?it old. 
 Your answer had not been ins'crolVd : 
 Fare you well; your suit is cold J 
 Cold, indeed ; and labour lost : 
 Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost ! 
 Portia, adieu ! I have too griev'd a heart 
 To take a tedious leave ; thus losers part. 
 
 [Exit with his train. 
 Portia. A gentle riddance. — Draw the curtains ; go. 
 Let all of his complexion choose me so. 
 
 [Exewit. Flourish of cornets. 
 
 Scene VIII. Venice. A Street. 
 Enter Salarino and Salanio. 
 
 Salarino. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail : 
 With him is Gratiano gone along*; 
 And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.' 
 
 Salanio. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the duke, 
 Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship, 
 
 Salarino. He. came too late, the ship was under sail ; 
 But there the duke was given to understand 
 That in a gondola were seen together 
 Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica: 
 
 Besides, Antonio certified the duke 10 
 
 They were not with Bassanio in his ship. 
 
 Salanio. I never heard a passion so confused, 
 
ACT IL SCENE VII L 
 
 So strange, outrageous, and so variable. 
 
 As the dog Jew did utter in the streets : 
 
 * My daughter ! O my ducats ! O my daughter ! 
 
 Fled with a Christian ! O my Christian ducats i 
 
 Justice ! the law ! my ducats, and my daughter ! 
 
 A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, 
 
 Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter ! 
 
 And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones, 
 
 Stolen by my daughter ! Justice ! find the girl ; 
 
 She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.' 
 
 Salarino, Why, all the boys in Venice follow him. 
 Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats. 
 • Salanib, Let good Antonio look he keep his day, 
 Or he shall pay for this. 
 
 Salarino. Marry, well remember'd. 
 
 I reasoned with a Frenchman yesterday, 
 Who told me, in the narrow seas that part 
 The French and English, there miscarried 
 A vessel of our country richly fraught. 
 I thought upon Antonio when he told me. 
 And wish'd in silence that it were not his. 
 
 Salanio, You were best to tell Antonio what you hear; 
 Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him. 
 
 Salarino, A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. 
 I saw Bassanio and Antonio part : 
 Bassanio told him he would make some speed 
 Of his return ; he answered, ' Do not so ; 
 Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio, 
 But stay the very riping of the time; 
 And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me, 
 Let it not enter in your mind of love. 
 Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts 
 To courtship, and such fair ostents of love 
 As shall cohveniently become you there.' 
 And even there, his eye being big with tears. 
 
 73 
 
74 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, 
 
 And with affection wondrous sensible 
 
 He wrung Bassanio's hand ; and so they parted. 
 
 Salanio, I think he only loves the world for him. 50 
 
 I pray thee, let us "go and find him out, 
 And quicken his embraced heaviness 
 With some delight or other. 
 
 Salarino, » Do we so. \Exeunt, 
 
 Scene IX. Belmont, A Room in Portia^ s House, 
 Enter Nerissa with a Servitor. 
 
 Nerissa. Quick, quick, I pray thee ; draw the curtain straight : • 
 The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath, 
 And comes to his election presently. 
 
 Flourish of cornets. Enter the Prince of Arragon, 
 Portia, and their trains, 
 
 Portia. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince : 
 If you choose that wherein \ am contain'd. 
 Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized ; 
 But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, 
 You must be gone from hence immediately. 
 
 Arragon, I am enjoin 'd by oath to observe three things : 
 First, never to unfold to any one 10 
 
 Which casket 't was I chose \ next, if I fail 
 Of the right casket, never in my life 
 To woo a maid in way of marriage ; 
 Lastly, if I do fail in fortune of my choice. 
 Immediately to leave you and be gone. 
 
 Portia. To these injunctions every one doth swear 
 That comes to hazard for my worthless self. 
 
 Arragon, And so have I address 'd me. Fortune now 
 To my heart's hope ! — Gold, silver, and bas^ lead" 
 ' Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath,^ 20. 
 
ACT 11, SCENE IX. 
 
 75 
 
 You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard. 
 What says the golden chest ? ha ! let me see : — 
 
 * Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire,^ 
 What many men desire ! that many may be meant 
 By the fool multitude, that choose by show, 
 
 Not learni-ng more than the fond eye doth teach ; 
 
 Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet. 
 
 Builds in the weather, on the outward wall, 
 
 Even in the force and road of casualty. 
 
 I will not choose what many men desire, 30 
 
 Because I will not jump with common spirits 
 
 And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. 
 
 Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house \ 
 
 Tell me once more what title thou dost bear : 
 
 * Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves :\ 
 And well said too ; for who shall go about 
 
 To cozen fortune and be honourable 
 
 Without the stamp of merit ? Let none presume 
 
 To wear an undeserved dignity. 
 
 O, that estates, degrees, and offices 40 
 
 Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear honour 
 
 Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer ! 
 
 How many then should cover that stand bare ! 
 
 How many be commanded that command! 
 
 How much low peasantry would then be glean'd 
 
 From the true seed of honour ; and how much honour 
 
 Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times. 
 
 To be new-varnish'd ! Well, but to my choice : 
 
 ^Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves,'* 
 
 I will assume desert. — Give me a key for this, s© 
 
 And instantly unlock my fortunes here. 
 
 \_IIe opens the silver casket, 
 
 Portia, Too long a pause for that which you find there. 
 
 Arragon, What's here ? the portrait of a blinking idiot, 
 Presenting me a schedule ! I will read it. 
 
^6 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 How much unlike are thou to Portia ! 
 
 How much unlike my hopes and my deservings ! 
 
 * Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves' 
 
 Did I deserve no more than a fool's head ? 
 
 Is that my prize ? are my deserts no better ? 
 
 Portia. To offend and "judge are distinct offices, 60 
 
 And of opposed natures. 
 
 Arragon. What is here? 
 
 'The fire seven times tried this : 
 Seven times tried that judgment is, 
 That did never choose amiss. 
 So77ie there be that shadows kiss ; 
 Such have but a shadow's bliss. 
 There be fools alive, I wis, 
 Silver' d o'er ; and so was this. 
 Take what wife you will to bed, 
 I will ever be your head : 70 
 
 So be gofie ; you are sped.' 
 ' Still more fool I shall appear 
 By the time I linger here ; 
 With one fooFs head I came to woo, 
 But I go away with two. — 
 Sweet, adieu! I '11 keep my oath, 
 -Patiently to bear my wroth. 
 
 \_Exeunt Arragon and train, 
 Portia. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. 
 O, these deliberate fools ! when they do choose, 
 They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. 80 
 
 Nerissa. The ancient saying is no heresy, — 
 Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. 
 Portia. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa. 
 
 Eftter a Servant. 
 Servant. Where is my lady ? 
 Portia. Here ; what would my lord 1 
 
ACT II. SCENE IX, 
 
 Servant, Madam, there is alighted at your gate 
 A young Venetian, one that comes before 
 To signify the approaching of his lord, 
 From whom he bringeth sensible regreets ; 
 To wit, besides commends and courteous breath, 
 Gifts of rich value. Yet I have not seen 
 So likely an ambassador of love; 
 A day in April never came so sweet. 
 To show how costly summer was at hand, ^ 
 As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. 
 
 Portia. No more, I pray thee ; I am half afeard 
 Thou wilt say anon he is some Tcin to thee. 
 Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him.— 
 Come, come, Nerissa ; for I long to see 
 Quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly. 
 
 Nerissa, Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be ! 
 
 77 
 
 9D 
 
 99 
 
 \_Exeunt, 
 
RIALTO BRIDGE. 
 
 ACT III. 
 Scene I. Venice. A Street, 
 Efiter Salanio and Salarino. 
 Salanio. Now, what news on the Rialto ? 
 Salarino, Why, yet it lives there unchecked that Antonio 
 hath a ship of rich lading wracked on the narrow seas ; the 
 Goodwins, I think they call the place : a very dangerous flat^ 
 and fatal, where the carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, 
 as they say, if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her 
 word. 7 
 
 Salanio, I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever 
 knapped ginger, or made her neighbours believe she wept 
 for the death of a third husband. But it is true,' without 
 
ACT III. SCENE I. 79 
 
 any slips of prolixity or crossing the plain highway of talk, 
 
 that the good Antonio, the honest Antonio, O that I 
 
 had a title good enough to keep his name company ! — 
 
 Salarino. Come, the full stop. 
 
 Salanio, Ha ! what sayest thou ? — Why, the end is, he 
 hath lost a ship. 
 
 Salarino. I w^ould it might prove the end of his losses ! 
 
 Salanio. Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil cross 
 my prayer ; for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. — 
 
 Enter Shylock. 
 
 How now, Shylock? what news among the merchants? 20 
 
 Shylock. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of 
 my daughter's flight. 
 
 Salarino. That 's certain ; I, for my part, knew the tailor 
 that made the wings she flew withal. 
 
 Salafiio. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was 
 fledged \ and then it is the complexion of them all to leave 
 the dam. 
 
 Shylock. My own flesh and blood to rebel ! 28 
 
 Salarino. There is more difference between thy flesh and 
 hers than between jet and ivory ; more between your bloods 
 than there is between red wine and Rhenish. But tell us, 
 do you hear whether Antonio have had any loss at sea or no ? 
 
 Shylock. There I have another bad match : a bankrupt, a 
 prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rial to ; a 
 beggar, that was used to come so smug upon the mart ; let 
 him look to his bond : he was wont to call me usurer ; let 
 him look to his bond: he was wont to lend money for a 
 Christian courtesy ; let him look to his bond. 
 
 Salarino. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take 
 his flesh ; what 's that good for ? 40 
 
 Shylock. To bait fish withal ; if it will feed nothing else, it 
 will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hindered 
 me half a million ; laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, 
 
8o THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends^ 
 heated mine enemies ; and what 's his reason ? I am a Jew. 
 Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimen- 
 sions, senses, affections, passions ? fed with the same food, 
 hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, 
 healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same 
 winter and summer, as a Christian is ? If you prick us, do 
 we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if you poi- 
 son us, do we not die ? and if you wrong us, shall we not re- 
 venge ? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you 
 in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility.'* 
 Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his suf- 
 ferance be, by Christian example .'* Why, revenge. The vil- 
 lany you teach me, I will execute ; and it shall go hard but 
 I will better the instruction. 
 
 Enter a Servant. 
 Servant. Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house, 
 and desires to speak with you both. 60 
 
 Salarino. We have been up and down to seek him. 
 
 E?iter Tubal. 
 
 Salanio, Here comes another of the tribe ; a third cannot 
 be matched, unless the devil himself turn Jew. 
 
 \Exeunt Salanio, Salarino, and Servant. 
 
 Shylock. How now. Tubal ! what news from Genoa ? hast 
 thou found my daughter ? 
 
 Tubal. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot 
 find her. 67 
 
 Shylock. Why, there, there, there, there ! a diamond gone, 
 cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort ! The curse nev- 
 er fell upon our nation till now ; I never felt it till now ; two 
 thousand ducats in that ; and other precious, precious jewels. 
 I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels 
 in her ear ! Would she were hearsed at my foot, and the 
 
ACT III. SCENE I. 8r 
 
 ducats in her coffin ! No news of them ? — Why, so ; and I 
 know not how much is spent in the search : why, thou loss 
 upon loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to find 
 the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge : nor no ill iuck 
 stirring but what lights o' my shoulders ; no sighs but o' my 
 breathing; no tears but o' my shedding. 79 
 
 Tubal, Yes, other men have ill luck too, Antonio, as I 
 heard in Genoa, — 
 
 Shylock, What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck? 
 
 Tubal. Hath an argosy cast away, coming from Tripolis. 
 
 Shylock. I thank God ! I thank God 1 Is it true ? is it true? 
 
 Tubal. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the 
 wrack. 
 
 Shylock. I thank thee, good Tubal ! — Good news, good 
 news ! ha, ha ] — Where ? in Genoa? 
 
 Tubal. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, in one 
 night fourscore ducats. 90 
 
 Shylock. Thou stick'st a dagger in me. I shall never see my 
 gold again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting ! fourscore ducats ! 
 
 Tubal. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my 
 company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break, 
 
 Shylock. I am very glad of it. I '11 plague him ; I '11 tor- 
 ture him. I am glad of it. 
 
 Tubal. One of them showed me a ring that he had of. your 
 daughter for a monkey, 
 
 Shylock. Out upon herl Thou torturest me, Tubal: it 
 was my turquoise ; I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor: 
 I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys. loi 
 
 Tubal. But Antonio is certainly undone. 
 
 Shylock. Nay, that 's true, that 's very true. Go, Tubal, fee 
 me an officer ; bespeak him a fortnight before. I will have 
 the heart of him, if he forfeit ; for, were he put of Venice, I 
 can make what merchandise I will. Go, go, Tubal, and 
 meet me at our synagogue : go, good Tubal ; at our syna- 
 gogue, Tubal. j ExetiuL 
 
 F 
 
82 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 Scene 1 1. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House, 
 Enter Bassanio, Portia, Gratiano, Nerissa, and Atten- 
 dants. 
 
 Portia. I pray you^ tarry : pause a day or two 
 Before you hazard ; for, in choosing wrong, 
 I lose your company : therefore forbear a while. 
 There 's something tells me, but it is not love, 
 I would not lose you ; and you know yourself, 
 Hate counsels not in such a quality. 
 But lest you should not understand me well, — 
 And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought, — 
 I would detain you here some month or two. 
 Before you venture for me. I could teach you « 
 
 How to choose right, but then I am forsworn ; 
 So will I never be : so may you miss me ; 
 But if you do, you '11 make me wish a sin, 
 That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, 
 They have o'erlook'd me and divided me ; 
 One half of me is yours, the other half yours, — 
 Mine own, I would say ; but if mine, then yours, 
 And so all yours. O, these naughty times 
 Put bars between the owners and their rights ! 
 And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so, 2( 
 
 Let fortune go to hell for it, not I. 
 I speak too long ; but 't is to peize the time, 
 To eke it, and to draw it out in length. 
 To stay you from election. 
 
 Bassanio. Let me choose ; 
 
 For as I am, I live upon the rack. 
 
 Portia. Upon the rack, Bassanio ! then confess 
 What treason there is mingled with your love. 
 
 Bassanio. None but that ugly treason of mistrust, 
 Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love. 
 
ACT II L SCENE II %t^ 
 
 There may as well be amity and life 3=» 
 
 'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. 
 
 Portia. Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack, 
 Where men enforced do speak any thing. 
 
 Bassanio, Promise me life, and I '11 confess the truth. 
 
 Portia. Well then, confess and live. 
 
 Bassanio. Confess and love 
 
 Had been the very sum of my confession. 
 
 happy torment, when my torturer 
 Doth teach me answers for deliverance ! 
 But let me to my fortune and the caskets. 
 
 Portia. Away, then ! I am lock'd in one of them ; 40 
 
 If you do love me, you will find me out. — 
 Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof — 
 Let music sound while he doth make his choice ; 
 Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end. 
 Fading in music : that the comparison 
 May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream 
 And watery death-bed for him. He may win ; 
 And what is music then ? Then music is 
 Even as the flourish when true subjects bow 
 To a new-crowned monarch ; such it is 53 
 
 As are those dulcet sounds in break of day. 
 That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear. 
 And summon him to marriage. Now he goes. 
 With no less presence, but with much more love, 
 Than young Alcides, when he did redeem 
 The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy 
 To the sea-monster : I stand for sacrifice ; 
 The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives. 
 With bleared visages, come forth to view 
 The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules 1 6o 
 
 Live thou, I live. — With much more dismay 
 
 1 view the fight, than thou that mak'st the fray. 
 
84 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 A Song, whilst Bassanio comments on the caskets to himself. 
 
 Tell me where is fancy bred, 
 Or in the heart or in the head? 
 How begot, how flourished ? 
 Reply, reply. 
 
 It is engender'' d in the eyes, 
 
 With gazing fed; and fancy dies 
 
 In the cradle where it lies. 
 
 Let us all ring fancy's knell: lo 
 
 I 'II begin it, — Ding, dong, bell. 
 
 All. Ding, dong, bell. 
 
 Bassanio. So may the outward shows be least themselves ; 
 The world is still deceiv'd with ornament. 
 In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt 
 But, being season'd with a gracious voice, 
 Obscures the show of evil? In religion, 
 What damned error, but some sober brow 
 Will bless it, and approve it with a text. 
 Hiding the grossness with fair ornament ? 80 
 
 There is no vice so simple but assumes 
 Some mark of virtue on his outward parts : 
 How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false 
 As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins 
 The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, 
 Who, inward searched, have livers white as milk \ 
 And these assume but valour's excrement 
 To render them redoubted! Look on beauty, 
 And you shall see 't is purchas'd by the weight, 
 Which therein works a miracle in nature, (p 
 
 Making them lightest that wear most of it. 
 So are those crisped snaky golden locks. 
 Which make such wanton gambols with the wind. 
 Upon supposed fairness, often known 
 
ACT III. SCENE II. 85 
 
 To be the dowry of a second head, 
 
 The skull that bred them in the sepulchre. 
 
 Thus ornament is but the guiled shore 
 
 To a most dangerous sea, the beauteous scarf 
 
 Veiling an Indian beauty; — in a word. 
 
 The seeming truth which cunning times put on 100 
 
 To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold, 
 
 Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee \ 
 
 Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge 
 
 'Tween man and man : but thou, thou meagre lead, 
 
 Which rather threatenest than dost promise aught, 
 
 Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence ; 
 
 And here choose I. Joy be the consequence ! 
 
 Portia. \Adde\ How all the other passions fleet to air, 
 As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair, 
 And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy ! no 
 
 love! be moderate; allay thy ecstasy; 
 In measure rain thy joy ; scant this ex'cess. 
 
 1 feel too much thy blessing ; make it less, 
 Foi fear I surfeit. 
 
 Bassanio. What find I here } 
 
 [ Opening the leaden casket. 
 Fair Portia's counterfeit ! What demigod 
 Hath come so near creation t Move these eyes? 
 Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, 
 Seem they in motion ? Here are sever'd lips, 
 Parted with sugar breath ; so sweet a bar 
 Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs 120 
 The painter plays the spider, and hath woven 
 A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men 
 Faster than gnats in cobwebs ; but her eyes ! — 
 How could he see to do them ? having made one, 
 Methinks it should have power to steal both his. 
 And leave itself unfurnish'd. Yet look, how Hir 
 The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow 
 
86 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 In underprizing it, so far this shadow 
 
 Doth limp behind the substance. — Here's the scroll, 
 
 The continent and summary of my fortune. 130 
 
 ^ You that choose not by the vieiu, ' 
 Chance as fair ^ a?id choose as true ! 
 Since this fortune falls to you, 
 Be content and seek 7io new. 
 If you be well pleas' d with this, 
 And hold your fortu?ie for your bliss, 
 Tur7i you whe?'e your lady is, 
 And claim her with a loving kiss,^ 
 
 A gentle scroll. — Fair lady, by your leave ; 
 
 I come by note, to give and to receive. [^Kissing her. 
 
 Like one of two contending in a prize, 141 
 
 That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes, 
 
 Hearing applause and universal shout, 
 
 Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt 
 
 Whether those peals of praise be his or no; 
 
 So, thrice-fair lady, stand I, even so. 
 
 As doubtful whether what I see be true, 
 
 Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you. 
 
 Portia, You see me. Lord Bassanio, where I stand, 
 Such as I am : though for myself alone 150 
 
 I would not be ambitious in my wish. 
 To wish myself much better, yet for you 
 I would be trebled twenty times myself, 
 A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich. 
 That only to stand high in your account, 
 I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, 
 Exceed account: but the full sum of me 
 Is sum of nothing; which, to term in gross, 
 Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised : 
 Happy in this, she is not yet so old 160 
 
 But she may learn ; happier than this, 
 
ACT ///. SCENE //. 87 
 
 She is not bred so dull but she can learn ; 
 
 Happiest of all in that her gentle spirit 
 
 Commits itself to yours to be directed, 
 
 As from her lord, her governor, her king. 
 
 Myself and what is mine to you and yours 
 
 Is now converted : but now I was the lord 
 
 Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, 
 
 Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now. 
 
 This house, these servants, and this same myself . 17^ 
 
 Are yours, my lord. I give them with this ring ; 
 
 Which when you part from, lose, or give away. 
 
 Let it presage the ruin of your love. 
 
 And be my vantage to exclaim on you. 
 
 Bassanio, Madam, you have bereft me of all words, 
 Only my blood speaks to you in my veins ; 
 And there is such confusion in my powers 
 As, after some oration fairly spoke 
 By a beloved prince, there doth appear 
 Among the buzzing pleased multitude, 180 
 
 Where every something, being blent together, 
 Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy, 
 Expressed and not expressed. But when this ring 
 Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence ; 
 O, then be bold to say, Bassanio's dead ! 
 
 Nerissa. My lord and lady, it is now our time. 
 That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper, 
 To cry, good joy. Good joy, my lord and lady ! 
 
 Gratiano. My lord Bassanio and my gentle lady, 
 I wish you all the joy that you can wish, 100 
 
 For I am sure you can wish none from me ; 
 And when your honours mean to solemnize 
 The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you. 
 Even at that time I may be married too. 
 
 Bassanio. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife. 
 
 Gratiano. I thank your lordship, you have got me one. 
 
SS THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 My eyes^ my lord, can look as swift as yours : 
 
 You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid ; 
 
 You lov^d, I lov'd ; for intermission 
 
 No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. 200 
 
 Your fortune stood upon the caskets there. 
 
 And so did mine too, as the matter falls \ 
 
 For wooing here until I sweat again, 
 
 And swearing till my very roof was dry 
 
 AVith oaths of love, at last, if promise last, 
 
 I got a promise of this fair one here 
 
 To have her love, provided that your fortune 
 
 Achieved her mistress. 
 
 Fortia. Is this true, Nerissa ? 
 
 Neriss'a, Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal. 
 
 Bassanio, And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith ? 210 
 
 Gratiano, Yes, faith, my lord. 
 
 JBassania. Our feast shall be much honoured in your marriage. 
 
 Gratiano. But who comes here } Lorenzo and his infidel ? 
 What! and my old Venetian friend, Salerio ? 
 
 Enter Lorenzo, Jessica, and Salerio, a messenger 
 from Venice, 
 
 Bassanio, Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither ; 
 If that the youth of my new interest here 
 Have power to bid you welcome. — By your leave, 
 I bid my very friends and countrymen, 
 Sweet Portia, welcome. 
 
 Portia, So do I, my lord ; 
 
 They are entirely welcome. 220 
 
 Lorenzo, I thank your honour. — For my part, my lord, 
 My purpose was not to have seen you here; 
 But meeting with Salerio by the way. 
 He did entreat me, past all saying nay, 
 To come with him along. 
 
 Salerio, I did, my lord ; 
 
ACT III. SCENE II. 39 
 
 And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio 
 
 Commends him to you. \Gives Bassanio a letter. 
 
 Bassanio, Ere I ope his letter, 
 
 I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth. 
 
 Salerio. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind \ 
 Nor well, unless in mind : his letter there 230 
 
 Will show you his estate. 
 
 Gratiano. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome. — 
 Your hand, Salerio; what 's the news from Venice? 
 How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio? 
 I know he will be glad of our success ; 
 We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece. 
 
 Salerio. I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost ! 
 
 Portia. There are some shrewd contents in yon same 
 paper, 
 That steals the colour from Bassanio's cheek : 
 Some dear friend dead ; else nothing in the world 240 
 
 Could turn so much the constitution 
 Of any constant man. What, worse and worse? — 
 With leave, Bassanio ; I am half yourself. 
 And I must freely have the half of any thing 
 That this same paper brings you. 
 
 Bassanio. O sweet Portia, 
 
 Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words 
 That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady, 
 When I did first impart my love to you, 
 1 freely told you, all the wealth I had 
 
 Ran in my veins — I was a gentleman : 25^ 
 
 And then I told you true ; and yet, dear lady, 
 Rating myself at nothing, you shall see 
 How much I was a braggart. When I told you 
 My state was nothing, I should then have told you 
 That I was worse than nothing ; for indeed 
 I have engaged myself to a dear friend, 
 Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy. 
 
90 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady ; 
 
 The paper as the body of my friend, 
 
 And every word in it a gaping wound, 260 
 
 Issuing life-blood. — But is it true, Salerio? 
 
 Have all his ventures faiFd ? What, not one hit? 
 
 From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England, 
 
 From Lisbon, Barbary, and India, 
 
 And not one vessel scape the dreadful touch 
 
 Of merchant-marring rocks ? 
 
 Salerio. Not one, my lord. 
 
 Besides, it should appear, that if he had 
 The present money to discharge the Jew, 
 He would not take it. Never did I know 
 A creature, that did bear the shape of man, 270 
 
 So keen and greedy to confound a man. 
 He plies the duke at morning and at night, 
 And doth impeach the freedom of the state. 
 If they deny him justice. Twenty merchants, 
 The duke himself, and the magnificoes 
 Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him ; 
 But none can drive him from the envious plea 
 Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond. 
 
 Jessica. When I was with him I have heard him swear 
 To Tubal and to Chus, Kis countrymen, 280 
 
 That he would rather have Antonio's flesh 
 Than twenty times the value of the sum 
 That he did owe him ; and I know, my lord, 
 If law, authority, and power deny not. 
 It will go hard with poor Antonio. 
 
 Portia. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble? 
 
 Bassanio. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man. 
 The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit 
 In doing courtesies ; and one in whom 
 
 The ancient Roman honour more appears 290 
 
 Than any that draws breath in Italy. 
 
ACT III, SCENE III. 91 
 
 Portia, What sum owes he the Jew? 
 
 Bassanio, For me, three thousand ducats. 
 
 Portia. What, no more ? 
 
 Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond \ 
 Double six thousand, and then treble that. 
 Before a friend of this description 
 Shall lose a hair through Bassanio's fault. 
 First go with me to church and call me wife, 
 And then away to Venice to your friend ; 
 For never shall you lie by Portia's side 300 
 
 With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold 
 To pay the petty debt twenty times over ; 
 Wlien it is paid, bring your true friend along. 
 My maid Nerissa and myself, mean time. 
 Will live as maids and widows. Come, away ! 
 For you shall hence upon your wedding-day. 
 Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer; 
 Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. — 
 But let me hear the letter of your friend. 309 
 
 Bassanio. [Reads] 'Sweet Bassanio^ my ships have all mis- 
 carried., my creditors grow cruel^ my estate is very low^ my bond 
 to the Jew is forfeit ; a?id since, in paying it, it is impossible I 
 should live, all debts are cleared .between you and I, if I might 
 see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your pleasure ; if 
 your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter,'' 
 
 Portia. O love, dispatch all business, and be gone ! 
 
 Bassanio. Since I have your good leave to go away, 
 I will make haste ; but, till I come again, 
 
 No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay, 319 
 
 Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. Venice. A Street. 
 
 Enter Shylock, Salarino, Antonio, and Gaoler. 
 
 Shylock. Gaoler, look to him ; tell not me of mercy. — 
 
92 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 This is the fool that lends out money gratis. — 
 Gaoler, look to him. 
 
 Antonio. Hear me yet, good Shy lock. 
 
 Shylock. I '11 have my bond ; speak not against my bond : 
 I have sworn an oath that I will have my bond. 
 Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause ; 
 But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs. 
 The duke shall grant me justice. — I do wonder, 
 Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond 
 To come abroad with him at his request. lo 
 
 Antonio. I pray thee, hear me speak. 
 
 Shylock. I '11 have my bond ; I will not hear thee speak : 
 I '11 have my bond ; and therefore speak no more. 
 I '11 not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, 
 To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield 
 To Christian intercessors. Follow not; 
 I '11 have no speaking: I will have my bond. \Exit. 
 
 Salarino. It is the most impenetrable cur 
 That ever kept with men. 
 
 Antonio. Let him alone ; 
 
 I '11 follow him no more with bootless prayers. 20 
 
 He seeks my life ; his reason well I know. 
 I oft deliver'd from his forfeitures 
 Many* that have at times made moan to me; 
 Therefore he hates me. 
 
 Salariiio. I am sure the duke 
 
 Will never grant this forfeiture to hold. 
 
 Antonio. The duke cannot deny the course of law ; 
 For the commodity that strangers have 
 With us in Venice, if it be denied. 
 Will much impeach the justice of the state, 
 Since that the trade and profit of the city 33 
 
 Consisteth of all nations. Therefore go ; 
 These griefs and losses have so bated me 
 That 1 shall hardly spare a pound of flesh 
 
ACT III. SCENE IV. 
 
 93 
 
 To-morrow to my bloody creditor. — 
 
 Well, gaoler, on. — Pray God, Bassanio come 
 
 To see me pay his debt, and then I care not ! \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. 
 Enter Portia, Nerissa, Lorenzo, Jessica, and Balthasar. 
 
 Lorenzo, Madam, although I speak it in your presence, 
 You have a noble and a true conceit 
 Of godlike amity, which appears most strongly 
 In bearing thus the absence of your lord. 
 But if you knew to 'whom you show this honour. 
 How true a gentleman you send relief, 
 How dear a lover of my lord your husband, 
 I know you would be prouder of the work 
 Than customary bounty can enforce you. 
 
 Portia. I never did repent for doing good, lo 
 
 Nor shall not now j for in companions 
 That do converse and waste the time together, 
 Whose souls do bear an equal yoke of love. 
 There must be needs a like proportion 
 Of lineaments, of manners, and of spirit ; 
 Which makes me think that this Antonio, 
 Being the bosom lover of my lord. 
 Must needs be like my lord. If it be so, 
 How little is the cost I have bestow'd 
 
 In purchasing the semblance of my soul ao 
 
 From out the state of hellish cruelty I 
 This comes too near the praising of myself; 
 Therefore no more of it : hear other things. 
 Lorenzo, I commit into your hands 
 The husbandry and manage of my house 
 Until my lord's return ; for mine own part, 
 I have toward heaven breath'd a secret vow 
 To live in prayer and contemplation, 
 
94 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Only attended by Nerissa here, 
 
 Until her husband and my lord's return. 30 
 
 There is a monastery two miles off, 
 
 And there will we abide. I do desire you 
 
 Not to deny this imposition, 
 
 The which my love and some necessity 
 
 Now lays upon you. 
 
 Lorenzo. Madam, with all my heart; 
 
 I shall obey you in all fair commands. 
 
 Portia. My people do already know my mind, 
 And will acknowledge you and Jessica 
 In place of Lord Bassanio and myself. 
 So fare you well, till we shall meet again. 40 
 
 Lo7'enzo. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend on you! 
 
 yessica. I wish your ladyship all heart's content. 
 
 Portia. I thank you for your wish, and am well pleas'd 
 To wish it back on you ; fare you well, Jessica. — 
 
 [^Exeunt Jessica and Lorenzo. 
 Now, Balthasar, 
 
 As I have ever found thee honest-true, 
 So let me find thee still. Take this same letter. 
 And use thou all the endeavour of a man 
 In speed to Padua: see thou render this 
 Into my cousin's hand. Doctor Bellario ; 50 
 
 And, look, what notes and garments he doth give thee, 
 Bring them, I pray thee, with imagin'd speed 
 Unto the tranect, to the common ferry 
 Which trades to Venice. Waste no time in words, 
 But get thee gone ; I shall be there before thee. 
 
 Balthasar. Madam, I go with all convenient speed. \Exit. 
 
 Portia. Come on, Nerissa ; I have work in hand 
 That you yet know not of. We '11 see our husbands 
 Before they think of us. 
 
 Nerissa. Shall they see us ? 
 
 Portia. They shall, Nerissa, but in such a habit, 60 
 
ACT III, SCENE V. 95 
 
 That they shall think we are accomplished 
 
 With that we lack. I '11 hold thee any wager, 
 
 When we are both accoutred like young men, 
 
 I '11 prove the prettier fellow of the two, 
 
 And wear my dagger with the braver grace, 
 
 And speak between the change of man and boy 
 
 With a reed voice, and turn two^ mincing steps 
 
 Into a manly stride, and speak of frays 
 
 Like a fine bragging youth ; and tell quaint lies, 
 
 How honourable ladies sought my love, 7^ 
 
 Which I denying, they fell sick and died j 
 
 I could not do withal : then' I '11 repent, 
 
 And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them. 
 
 And twenty of these puny lies I '11 tell. 
 
 That men shall swear I have discontinued school 
 
 Above a twelvemonth. I have within my mind 
 
 A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks, 
 
 Which I will practise. 
 
 But come, I '41 tell thee all my whole device 
 
 When I am in my coach, which stays for us 80 
 
 At the park gate ; and therefore haste aw^ay. 
 
 For we must measure twenty miles to-day. \Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. The Same, A Garden. 
 Enter Launcelot and Jessica. 
 
 Launcelot. Yes, truly ; for, look you, the sins of the father 
 are to be laid upon the children : therefore, I promise you, 
 I fear you. I was always plain with you, and so now I 
 speak my agitation of the matter ; therefore be of good 
 cheer, for truly I think you are damned. There is but one 
 hope in it that can do you any good. 
 
 yessica. And what hope is that, I pray thee ? 
 
 Launcelot, Marry, you may partly hope that you are not 
 the Jew's daughter. 9 
 
96 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 yessica. So the sins of my mother should be visited upon me. 
 
 Laiincelot. Truly then I fear you are damned both by fa- 
 ther and mother; thus when I shun Scylla, your father, I fall 
 into Charybdis, your mother : well, you are gone both ways. 
 
 Jessica. I shall be saved by my husband ; he hath made 
 me a Christian. 
 
 Launcelot. Truly, the more to blame he: we were Chris- 
 tians enow before ; e'en as many as could well live, one by 
 another. This making of Christians will raise the price of 
 hogs ; if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly 
 have a rasher on the coals for money. 20 
 
 Enter Lorenzo. 
 
 Jessica, I '11 tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say ; 
 here he comes. 
 
 Lorenzo, I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot. 
 
 Jessica. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo ; Launcelot 
 and I are out. He tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me 
 in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter; and he says, you 
 are no good member of the commonwealth, for in converting 
 Jews to Christians you raise the price of pork. 28 
 
 Lorenzo, I think the best grace of wit will shortly turn into 
 silence, and discourse grow commendable in none only but . 
 parrots. — Go in, sirrah ; bid them prepare for dinner. 
 
 Launcelot, That is done, sir; they have all stomachs. 
 
 Lorenzo, Goodly Lord, what a wit-snapper are you ! then 
 bid them prepare dinner. 
 
 Launcelot. That is done too, sir; only, cover is the word. 
 
 Lorenzo, Will you cover then, sir? 
 
 Launcelot. Not so, sir, neither ; I know my duty. 
 
 Lorenzo, Yet more quarrelling with ocqasion ! 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 fel- 
 lows ; bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, and we 
 will come in to dinnen ml 
 
ACT II L SCENE V. 
 
 97 
 
 Launcelot, For the table, sir, it shall be served in ; for the 
 meat, sir, it shall be covered ; 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, 
 Garnished like him, that for a tricksy word 50 
 
 Defy the matter. — How cheer'st thou, Jessica ? 
 And now, good sweet, say thy opinion, 
 How dost thou like the lord Bassanio's wife ? 
 
 yessica. 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 mean it, then 
 In reason he should never come to heaven. 
 Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match, 60 
 
 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, howsoever thou speak'st, 'mong other things 70 
 
 I shall digest it. 
 
 Jessica, Well, I '11 set you forth. {Exeunt. 
 
 G 
 
COLONNADE OF DUCAL PALACE, VENICE. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene I. Venice, A Court of yustice. 
 Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Antonio, Bassanio, 
 
 Gratiano, Salerio, and others. 
 Duke. What, is Antonio here ? 
 Antonio. Ready, so please your grace. 
 Duke. 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 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I, 99 
 
 Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose 10 
 
 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. 
 
 Salerio. He is 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 fashion of thy malice 
 To the last hour of act ; and then 't is thought 
 Thou 'It show thy mercy and remorse, more strange 20 
 
 Than is thy strange apparent cruelty ; 
 And where thou now exact'st 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 30 
 
 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 '11 ask me, why I rather choose to have 40 
 
 A weight of carrion flesh than to receive 
 Three thousand ducats. I '11 not answer that; 
 
I oo THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 But, say, it is my humour : is it answer'd ? 
 
 What if my house be troubled with a rat, 
 
 And I be pleas'd to give teq 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 : 
 
 Masters of passion sway it to the mood 
 
 Of what it likes or loathes. Now, for your answer : 50 
 
 As there is no firm reason to be rendered 
 
 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 lodged hate and a certain loathing 
 
 I bear Antonio, that I follow thus 
 
 A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd ? 
 
 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 answer. 
 
 Bassanio, Do all men kill the things they do not love ? 61 
 
 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 70 
 
 To wag their high tops and to make no noise, 
 When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven ; 
 You may as well do any thing 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 farther means, 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I, loi 
 
 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 80 
 
 Were in six parts, and every part a ducat, 
 I would not draw them ; I would have my bond. 
 
 Duke, How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none ? 
 
 Shylock. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? 
 You have among you many a purchas'd slave. 
 Which, like 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 burthens? let their beds 90 
 
 Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates 
 Be seasoned 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 ; 't is 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, 100 
 
 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, 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 no 
 
I02 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me. 
 You cannot better be employed, Bassanio, 
 Than to live still and write mine epitaph. 
 
 Enter Nerissa, dressed like a lawyer^ s clerk. 
 
 Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario ? 
 
 Nerissa. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. 
 
 [^Presenting a letter. 
 
 Bassanio. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly ? 
 
 Shy lock. 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 120 
 
 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, inexorable 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, 130 
 
 And, whilst thou lay'st in thy unhallowed dam, 
 Infus'd itself in thee ; for thy desires 
 Are wolvish, 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. This letter from Bellario doth commend 
 A young and learned doctor to our court. — 
 Where is he ? 
 
 Nerissa. He attendeth here hard by, 140 
 
 To know your answer, whether you '11 admit him. 
 
ACT IV, SCENE L 103 
 
 Duke, With all my heart. — Some three or four of you 
 Go give him courteous conduct to this place. — 
 Mean time, the court shall hear Bellario's letter. 144 
 
 Clerk. [Reads] ^ Your grace shall understand that at the re- 
 ceipt 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 controversy between the Jew and Antonio the merchant; 
 we turned 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 im- 
 portunity, 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 rev- 
 erend 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. — 
 
 Enter Portia, dressed like a doctor of laws. 
 
 Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario? 160 
 
 Portia, 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 .^ 
 
 Portia. I am informed throughly of the cause. 
 Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew ? 
 
 Duke. 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. — 170 
 
 You stand within his danger, do you not ? 
 
 Antonio. Ay, so he says. 
 
I04 
 
 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 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. 
 'T is mightiest in the mightiest : it becomes 
 The throned monarch better than his crown ; iSo 
 
 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 justices Therefore, Jew, 
 Though justice be thy plea, consider this, — 
 That, in the course of justice, none of us 190 
 
 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. 
 
 Shylock, My deeds upon my head ! I crave the law, 
 The penalty and forfeit of my bond. 
 
 Portia, Is he not able to discharge the money ? 
 
 Bassanio. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court ; 200 
 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. And I beseech you. 
 
ACT IV, SCENE L^ 105 
 
 Wrest once the law to your authority; 
 To do a great right, do a little wrong, 
 And curb this cruel devil of his will. 
 
 Portia, It must not be. There is no power in Venice 
 Can alter a decree established ; 210 
 
 'T will be recorded for a precedent. 
 And many an error by the same example 
 Will rush into the state. It cannot be. 
 
 Shylock, A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel! 
 O wise young judge, how do I honour thee ! 
 
 Portia. I pray you, let me look upon the bond. 
 
 Shylock, Here 't is, most reverend doctor, here it is. 
 
 Portia, Shylock, there 's thrice thy money offer'd thee. 
 
 Shylock, An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven ; 
 Shall I lay perjury upon my soul ? '220 
 
 No, not for Venice. 
 
 Portia, 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. 
 
 Shylock. When it is paid according to the tenour. — 
 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, 230 
 
 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. 
 
 Antonio, Most heartily I do beseech the court 
 To give the judgment. 
 
 Portia, Why then, thus it is : 
 
 You must prepare your bosom for his knife. 
 
 Shylock, O noble judge ! O excellent young man I 
 
 Portia, For the intent and purpose of the law 
 
lo6 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Hath full relation to the penalty 
 
 Which here appeareth due upon the bond. 240 
 
 Shylock. 'T is very true. O wise and upright judge! 
 How much more elder art thou than thy looks ! 
 
 Portia, Therefore lay bare your bosom. 
 
 Shylock. Ay, his breast ; 
 
 So says the bond — doth it not, noble judge ? — 
 Nearest his heart ; those are the very words. 
 
 Portia, It is so. Are there balance here to weigh 
 The flesh ? 
 
 Shylock. I have them ready. 
 
 Portia. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, 
 To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death. 
 
 Shylock. Is it so nominated in the bond? 250 
 
 Portia. It is not so express'd ; but what of that ? 
 'T were good you do so much for charity. 
 
 Shylock. I cannot find it; 't is not in the bond. 
 
 Portia. You, merchant, have you any thing to say.^ 
 
 Antonio. But little ; I am arm'd and well prepared. — 
 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, 260 
 
 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 ; 270 
 
 For if the Jew do cut but deep enough, 
 I '11 pay it instantly with all my heart. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE /. 
 
 107 
 
 'Bassanio. 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 esteemed above thy life : 
 I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all 
 Here to this devil, to deliver you. 
 
 Portia. Your wife would give you little thanks for that, 
 If she were by, to hear you make the offer. 280 
 
 Gr^itiano. I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love; 
 I would she were in heaven, so she could 
 Entreat some power to change this currish Jew. 
 
 Nerissa, 'T is well you offer it behind her back ; 
 The wish would make else an unquiet house. 
 
 Shylock. [Aside] These be the Christian husbands. I have 
 a daughter ; 
 Would any of the stock of Barrabas 
 Had been her husband rather than a Christian ! — 
 [To Portia\ We trifle time; I pray thee, pursue sentence. 
 
 Portia. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine ; 290 
 The court awards it, and the law doth give it. 
 
 Shylock. Most rightful judge ! 
 
 Portia. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast ; 
 The law allows it, and the court awards it. 
 
 Shylock. Most learned judge ! — A sentence ! Come, pre- 
 pare 1 
 
 Portia. Tarry a little ; there is something else. 
 This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood ; 
 The words expressly are, a pound of flesh : 
 Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh ; 
 But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed 300 
 
 One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods 
 Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate 
 Unto the state of Venice. 
 
 Gratiano. O upright judge! — Mark, Jew ! — O learned 
 judge! 
 
io8 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Shyloch Is that the law ? 
 
 Fortia. Thyself shalt see the act ; 
 
 For, as thou urgest justice, be assur'd 
 Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest. 
 
 Gra, O learned judge ! — Mark, Jew ! — a learned judge ! - 
 
 Shylock, I take this offer, then ; pay the bond thrice, 
 And let the Christian go. 
 
 Bassanio, Here is the money. 310 
 
 Portia, Soft! 
 The Jew shall have all justice \ — soft ! no haste : — 
 He shall have nothing but the penalty. 
 
 Gratiano. O Jew ! an upright judge, a learned judge ! 
 
 Portia. 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 much 
 As makes it light or heavy in the substance. 
 Or the division of the twentieth part 320 
 
 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. 
 
 Gratiano, A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew! 
 Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip. 
 
 Portia. Why doth the Jew pause ? — Take thy forfeiture. 
 
 Shylock. Give me my principal, and let me go. 
 
 Bassanio, I have it ready for thee ; here it is. 
 
 Portia. He hath refus'd it in the open court ; 
 He shall have merely justice, and his bond. 330 
 
 Gratiano, A Daniel, still say I, a second Daniel ! 
 I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. 
 
 Shylock. Shall I not have barely my principal ? 
 
 Portia. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, 
 To be so taken at thy peril, Jew. 
 
 Shylock. Why, then the devil give him good of it ! 
 I 41 stay no longer question. 
 
ACT IV, SCENE I. 1 09 
 
 Portia. Tarry, Jew; 
 
 The law hath yet another hold on you. 
 It is enacted in the laws of Venice, 
 
 If it be prov'd against an alien, 340 
 
 That by direct or indirect attempts 
 He seek the life of any citizen, 
 The party 'gainst the which he doth contrive 
 Shall seize one half his goods ; the other half 
 Comes to the privy coffer of the state \ 
 And the offender's life lies in the mercy 
 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, 350 
 
 Thou hast contriv'd against the very life 
 Of the defendant, and thou hast incurr'd 
 The danger formerly by me rehears'd. 
 Down therefore, and beg mercy of the duke. 
 
 Gratiano. 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 spirits, 
 I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it. 360 
 
 For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ; 
 The other half comes to the general state, 
 Which humbleness may drive unto a fine. 
 
 Portia. Ay, for the state, not for Antonio. 
 
 Shylock. 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. 
 
 Portia. What mercy can you render him, Antonio? 
 
 Gratiano. A halter gratis ; nothing else, for God's sake. 370 
 
 Antonio. So please my lord the duke and all the court 
 
no THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 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 possessed, 380 
 
 Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter. 
 
 Duke. He shall do this, or else I do recant 
 The pardon that I late pronounced here. 
 
 Portia. Art thou contented, Jew? what dost thou say? 
 
 Shylock. I am content. 
 
 Portia, Clerk, draw a deed of gift. 
 
 Shylock. I pray you, give me leave to go from hence ; 
 I am not well. Send the deed after me. 
 And I will sign it. 
 
 Duke. Get thee gone, but do it. 
 
 Gratiano. In christening thou shalt have two godfathers; 
 Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more, 390 
 
 To bring thee to the gallows, not the font. \Exit Shylock, 
 
 Duke, Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. 
 
 Portia, 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 and his train. 
 
 Bassanio. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend 
 Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted 400 
 
 Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof 
 Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew, 
 We freely cope your courteous pains withal. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I. m 
 
 Antonio, And stand indebted, over and above. 
 In love and service to you evermore. 
 
 Portia. 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 ; • 410 
 
 I wish you well, and so I take my leave. 
 
 Bassanio, 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. 
 
 Portia, You press me far, and therefore I will yield. — 
 \To Antoniol Give me your gloves, I '11 wear them for your 
 
 sake ; — 
 l^To Bassanio^ And, for your love, I '11 take this ring from 
 
 you. — 
 Do not draw back your hand ; I '11 take no more, 
 And you in love shall not deny me this. 420 
 
 Bassanio. This ring, good sir, — alas ! it is a trifle ; 
 I will not shame myself to give you this. 
 
 Portia, I will have nothing else but only this ; 
 And now methinks I have a mind to it. 
 
 Bassanio. 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. 
 
 Portia. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers; 
 You taught me first to beg, and now methinks 430 
 
 You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd. 
 
 Bassanio. 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. 
 
 Portia. That 'scuse serves many men to-save their gifts. 
 An if your wife be not a mad woman, 
 
112 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 
 
 And know how well I have deserv'd the ring, 
 
 She would not hold out enemy for ever, 
 
 For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you! 
 
 [Exeunt Portia and Nerissa, 
 
 Antonio, My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring; 440 
 
 Let his deservings and my love withal 
 Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandement. 
 
 Bassanio, Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him ; 
 Give him the ring, and bring him, if thou canst, 
 Unto Antonio's house : away ! make haste. — \Exit Gratiano, 
 Come, you and I will thither presently ^ 
 And in the morning early will we both 
 Fly toward Belmont : come, Antonio. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. The Same. A Street, 
 
 Enter Portia and Nerissa. 
 
 Portia. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this deed, 
 And let him sign it; we '11 away to-night. 
 And be a day before our husbands home. 
 This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo. 
 
 E7iter Gratiano. 
 
 Gratiano. 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. 
 
 Portia. That cannot be. 
 
 His ring I do accept most thankfully. 
 
 And so, I pray you, tell him ; furthermore, 10 
 
 I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house. 
 
 Gratiano. That will I do. 
 
 Nerissa. Sir, I would speak with you. — 
 
 [Aside to Portia'] i '11 see if I can get my husband's ring, 
 Which I did make him swear to keep for ever. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE IL 
 
 113 
 
 warrant. We 
 
 Fortia. [Aside to JVerissd] Thou mayst, I 
 shall have old swearing, 
 That they did give the rings away to men ; 
 But we '11 outface them, and outswear them too. 
 Away! make haste; thou know'st where I will tarry. 
 
 Nerissa. Come, good sir, will you show me to this house? 
 
 \Exeunt. 
 
 H 
 
ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. Belmont, Avemie to Portions House, 
 
 Enter Lorenzo and Jessica. 
 
 Lorenzo, 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. 
 
 Jessica, In such a night, 
 
 Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew. 
 And saw the lion's shadow ere himself. 
 And ran dismay'd away. 
 
 Lorenzo, In such a night. 
 
 Stood Dido with a willow in her hand lo 
 
 Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love 
 To come again to Carthage. 
 
 Jessica. In such a night, 
 
 Medea gathered the enchanted herbs 
 That did renew old ^son. 
 
ACT V. SCENE /. 115 
 
 Lorenzo. In such a night, 
 
 Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew, 
 And with an unthrift love did run from Venice 
 As far as Belmont. 
 
 Jessica, 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. 
 
 Lorenzo. In such a night, 20 
 
 Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, 
 Slander her love, and he forgave it her. 
 
 Jessica. I would out-night you, did nobody come; 
 But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. 
 
 Enter Stephano. 
 
 Lore7izo. Who comes so fast in silence of the night? 
 
 Stephano. A friend. 
 
 Lorenzo. A friend! what friend.? your name, I pray you, 
 friend.? 
 
 Stephano. Stephano is my name, and I bring word 
 My mistress will before the break of day 
 Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about 30 
 
 By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays 
 For happy wedlock hours. 
 
 Lorenzo. Who comes with her .? 
 
 Stephano. None but a holy hermit and her maid. 
 I pray you, is my master yet returned.? 
 
 Lorenzo. 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. 
 
 Enter Launcelot. 
 
 Launcelot. Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola! 
 
 Lorenzo. Who calls? .0 
 
Ii5 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 Launcelot, Sola ! did you see Master Lorenzo and Mistress 
 Lorenzo? sola, sola! 
 
 Lorenzo. Leave hollaing, man ; here. 
 
 Launcelot. Sola! where? where? 
 
 Lorenzo. Here. 
 
 Lawicelot, Tell him there 's a post come from, my master, 
 with his horn full of good news ; my master will be here ere 
 morning. \Exit, 
 
 Lorenzo, Sweet soul, let 's in, and there expect their coming. 
 And yet no matter; why should we go in.^ — 50 
 
 My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, 
 Within the house, your mistress is at hand ; 
 And bring your music forth into the air. — \Exit Stephano. 
 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 60 
 
 But in his motion like an angel sings, 
 Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins ; 
 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. \Music. 
 
 yessica, I am never merry when I hear sweet music. 
 
 Lorenzo, The reason is, your spirits are attentive: 70 
 
 For do but note a wild and wanton herd. 
 Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, 
 Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, 
 
ACT V, SCENE L ny 
 
 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; 80 
 
 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. 
 
 Efiter Portia and Nerissa. 
 
 Portia, That light we see is burning in my hall. 
 How far that little candle throws his beams! 90 
 
 So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 
 
 Nerissa, When the moon shone, we did not see the candle. 
 
 Portia. 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! 
 
 Nerissa. It is your music, madam, of the house. 
 
 Portia. Nothing is good, I see, without respect; 
 Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day. v^o 
 
 Nerissa. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. 
 
 Portia. 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. 
 
1 1 8 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 How many things by season seasoned are 
 
 To their right praise and true perfection ! — 
 
 Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion, 
 
 And would not be awak'd. \Music ceases, 
 
 Lorenzo. That is the voice, no 
 
 Or I am much deceived, of Portia. 
 
 Portia, He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, 
 By the bad voice. 
 
 Lorenzo, Dear lady, welcome home. 
 
 Portia, We have been praying for our husbands' welfare, 
 Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. 
 Are they returned.? 
 
 Lorenzo, Madam, they are not yet; 
 
 But there is come a messenger before, 
 To signify their coming. 
 
 Portia, QfO in, Nerissa; 
 
 Give order to my servants that they take 
 No note at all of our being absent hence ; — 120 
 
 Nor you, Lorenzo ; — Jessica, nor you. \A tucket sounds. 
 
 Lorenzo, Your husband is at hand ; I hear his trumpet. 
 We are no tell-tales, madam ; fear you not. 
 
 Portia, 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, 
 
 Bassanio, We should hold day with the Antipodes, 
 If you would walk in absence of the sun. 
 
 Portia, Let me give light, but let me not be light; 
 For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, 130 
 
 And never be Bassanio so for me : 
 But God sort all ! You are welcome home, my lord. 
 
 Bassanio, I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my 
 friend. 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 
 
 119 
 
 This is the man, this is Antonio, 
 To whom I am so infinitely bound. 
 
 Portia, You should in all sense be much bound to him, 
 For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. 
 
 Antonio. No more than I am well acquitted of. 
 
 Portia. Sir, you are very welcome to our house ; 
 It must appear in other ways than words, 140 
 
 Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. 
 
 Gratiano. \To Nerissa\ By yonder moon I swear you do 
 me wrong ; 
 In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk. 
 
 Portia, A quarrel, ho, already ! what 's the matter? 
 
 Gratiano, About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring 
 That she did give me, whose poesy was 
 For all the world like cutler's poetry 
 Upon a knife, * Love me, and leave me not.' 
 
 Nerissa, What talk you of the poesy, or the value ? 
 You swore to me, when I did give it you, 150 
 
 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. 
 
 Gratiano, He will, an if he live to be a man. 
 
 Nerissa, Ay, if a woman live to be a man. 
 
 Gratiano. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, 
 A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy, 160 
 
 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. 
 
 Portia, 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. 
 
I20 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 I gave my love a ring, and made him swear 
 
 Never to part with it; and here he stands : 
 
 I dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it, 170 
 
 Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth 
 
 That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, 
 
 You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief ; 
 
 An 't were to me, I should be mad at it. 
 
 Bassanio, \Aside\ Why, I were bestto cut my left hand off, 
 And swear I lost the ring defending it. 
 
 Gratiano, My lord Bassanio gave his ring away 
 Unto the judge that begg'd it, and indeed 
 Deserv'd it too ; and then the boy, his clerk. 
 That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine ; 180 
 
 And neither man nor master would take aught 
 But the two rings. 
 
 Portia. What ring gave you, my lord ^. 
 
 Not that, I hope, which you received of me. 
 
 Bassanio. If I could add a lie unto a fault, 
 I would deny it ; but you see my finger 
 Hath not the ring upon it j it is gone. 
 
 Portia. Even so void is your false heart of truth. 
 By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed 
 Until I see the ring. 
 
 Nerissa. Nor I in yours, 
 
 Till I again see mine. 
 
 Bassanio. Sweet Portia, xgo 
 
 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. 
 
 Portia. If you had known the virtue of the ring, 
 Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, 
 Or your own honour to contain the ring. 
 
ACT V, SCENE I, 12 1 
 
 You would not then have parted with the ring. 200 
 
 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 '11 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, 210 
 
 And suffered him to go displeas'd away, 
 Even he that did uphold the very life 
 Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady t 
 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. 220 
 
 Portia. 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 '11 not deny him any thing I have. 
 
 Antonio, I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. 
 
 Portia. Sir, grieve not you ; you are welcome notwith- 
 standing. 
 
 Bassanio. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong \ 
 And, in the hearing of these many friends, 
 I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, 230 
 
 Wherein I see myself — 
 
 Portia. Mark you but that! 
 
 In both my eyes he doubly sees himself; 
 
122 THE MERCHANT OF VENICE, 
 
 In each eye, one ! — Swear by your double self, 
 And there 's an oath of credit. 
 
 Bassanio. Nay, but hear me : 
 
 Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear 
 I never more will break an oath with thee. 
 
 Antonio. 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 240 
 
 Will never more break faith advisedly. 
 
 Portia, Then you shall be his surety. Give him this. 
 And bid him keep it better than the other. 
 
 Antonio. Here, lord Bassanio \ swear to keep this ring. 
 
 Bassanio. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor ! 
 
 Portia, 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 250 
 
 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. 
 
 Antonio, Sweet lady, you have given me life and living; 260 
 For here I read for certain that my ships 
 Are safely come to road. 
 
 Portia, How now, Lorenzo ? 
 
 My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. 
 
 Nerissa. Ay, and I '11 give them him without a fee. — 
 There do I give to you and Jessica, 
 
ACT K SCENE I. 
 
 123 
 
 From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, 
 After his death, of all he dies possessed of. 
 
 Lorenzo. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way 
 Of starved people. 
 
 Portia, It is almost morning. 
 
 And yet I am sure you are not satisfied 270 
 
 Of these events at full. Let us go in ; 
 And charge us there upon inter'gatories. 
 And we will answer all things faithfully. \Exeunt. 
 
THE AVON AND STRATFORD CHURCH. 
 
NOTES. 
 
ABBREVIATIONS USED IN THE NOTES. 
 
 Abbott (or Gr.), Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar. 
 
 A. S., Anglo-Saxon. 
 
 B. and F., Beaumont and Fletcher. 
 B. J., Ben Jonson. 
 
 Cf. (con/er), compare. 
 
 Coll. MS., Manuscript Corrections of Second Folio, edited by Collier. 
 
 D.,Dyce (2d ed.). 
 
 Fol, following. 
 
 Fr., French. 
 
 H., Hudson (ist ed.). 
 
 H.'s quarto, Heyes's quarto edition of the Play. 
 
 Id. (idem), the same. 
 
 K., Knight (2d ed.). 
 
 N. F., Norman-French. 
 
 Pro!., Prologue. 
 
 R.'s quarto, Roberts's quarto edition of the Play. 
 
 S., Shakespeare. 
 
 Schmidt, A. Schmidt's Shakespeare-Lexicon (Berlin, 1874). 
 
 Sr., Singer. 
 
 St., Staunton. 
 
 Theo., Theobald. 
 
 v., Verplanck. 
 
 Var. ed., the Variorum edition of Shakespeare (1821). 
 
 W., R. Grant White. 
 
 Warb., Warburton. 
 
 Wb., Webster's Dictionary (revised quarto edition of 1879). 
 
 Wore, Worcester's Dictionary (quarto edition). 
 
 Wr., Clark and Wright's " Clarendon Press" ed. of ^. of V. (Oxford, 1868). 
 
 The abbreviations of the names of Shakespeare's Plays will be readily understood ; as 
 T. N. for Twelfth Night, Cor. for Coriolanus, 3 Hen. VI. for The Third Part of Kitig 
 Henry the Sixth, etc. P. P. refers to The Passionate Pilgrim ; V. and A . to Venus 
 and Adonis ; L. C to Lover's Complaint ; and Sonn. to the Sonnets. 
 
 When the abbreviation of the name of a play is followed by a reference to page, 
 Rolfe's edition of the play is meant. The numbers of the lines in the references (ex- 
 cept for the present play) are those of the " Globe " ed. 
 
NOTES. 
 
 AN ARGOSY. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene I. — In the ist folio, the play is divided into acts, but not into 
 scenes, and there is no list of dramatis personce. 
 
 I. In sooth. In truth. A. S. soth (truth, true, truly), as in forsooth^ 
 soothsayer (teller of hidden truth). Gower alludes to the origin of the 
 latter word (Conf. Am.i.) : 
 
 ** That for he wiste he saide soth 
 A soth-saier he was for ever." 
 
 3. Came by it. A familiar colloquial idiom in this country, but appar- 
 ently not in England, since the editors there take the trouble to explain it. 
 
 8. On the oceait. Ocean is here a trisyllable ; as in 2 Hen. IV. iii. i. 
 50. See Gr. 479; and cf. Milton, Hymn on Nativ. 66: "Whispering 
 new joys to the mild ocean." Cf. also opinion in 102 below. 
 
 9. Argosies. Merchant vessels (sometimes war vessels) of great size 
 for that day, though not exceeding two hundred tons. The name is from 
 the classical Argo^ through the low Latin argis. Cf. T. of S. ii. i. 376, etc. 
 
 II. Pageants. The word in S. means usually a theatrical exhibition, 
 literal or figurative. Cf. M. N. D. p. 163. See also the verb in T. and 
 C i. 3. 151 : "he pageants us." 
 
 12. Do overpeer. This use of the auxiliary was common in Shake^ 
 speare's time, though obsolescent. Cf. 3 Hen. VI. v. 2. 14 ; *' Whose top- 
 branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree." See also Ham. iv. 5. 99, etc. 
 
128 NOTES, 
 
 13. Curtsy, The same word as courtesy ; used of both sexes. The quar- 
 tos have " cursie." Cf. Much Ado^ p. 159. 
 
 15. Venture, Still used in this commercial sense. /^?rzf/^= abroad. 
 
 17. Still, Ever, constantly; as in 136 below. Cf. *' still-waking sleep," 
 R.and y. i. i. 187; "still-vexed Bermoothes," Temp. i. 2. 229; "still- 
 closing waters," Temp. iii. 3. 64, etc. It is even used as an adjective in 
 the sense of constant^ as in Rich. Ill, iv. 4. 229 : " still use of grief," 
 etc. 
 
 24. Might do at sea, R.'s quarto has " at sea, might do." 
 
 27. My wealthy Andrew, My richly freighted ship. Some suppose 
 the name to be taken from that of the famous Genoese admiral, Andrea 
 Doria, who died 1560. For dock'd the early eds. have "docks;" cor- 
 rected by Rowe. 
 
 28. Vailing. Lowering. Cf. " Vail your regard " ( = let fall your look), 
 M.for M,v, I. 20, etc. The word is contracted from avail or az>ale, the 
 French avaler (from Latin ad vallem), Spenser uses avale, both with an 
 object {Shep. Kal. Jan. 73) and without one {F, Q. ii. 9. 10). 
 
 35. But even noiv worth this. The force of this (=all this, so much) 
 was probably meant to be expressed by a gesture. 
 
 38. Bechanced. On the prefix be- see Gr. 438. 
 
 40. To think upon. From thinking upon. Gr. 356. 
 
 42. Bottom. This word, like V€7zture^ is still used in commerce in the 
 same sense as here. Cf. K. Johjt, ii. i. 73 : " the English bottoms ;" T, 
 N. v. I. 60 : " the most noble bottom of our fleet," etc. 
 
 50. Two-headed Jajitis. The allusion is probably to those ancient 
 bifrontine images in which a grave face was associated with a laughing 
 one. 
 
 52. Peep through their eyes. That is, eyes half shut with laughter. 
 
 54. Other of such vinegar aspect. Other is often plural in S. and other 
 writers of the time. Cf Job^ xxiv. 24, Luke^ xxiii. 32, Phil. ii. 3, iv. 3. Gr. 
 12. Aspect is always accented on the last syllable in S. Cf. Spenser, 
 F. Q. i. 12. 23 : " Most ugly shapes, and horrible aspects ;" Milton, P. L. 
 iii. 266 ; " His words here ended, but his meek aspect," etc. This is but 
 one illustration out of many that show the tendency of the accent in Eng- 
 lish to fall back toward the beginning of the word. Thus we have char- 
 actered in S. (7". G. of V. ii. 7. 4, etc.) and Milton {Comus, 530) ; contrary 
 in S. {Ham. iii. 2. 221, etc.) and Spenser {F, Q, iii. i. 47, iii. 2. 40, etc.) ; rev- 
 enue in S. {Ham, iii. 2. 63, etc.) ; solemnized in S. (Z. L. L. ii. I. 42) and 
 Spenser {F. Q. v. 2. 3) ; etc. 
 
 56. Nestor, The oldest of the Greek heroes in the Iliad, famed for his 
 wisdom and gravity. See T, and C. i. 3. 32, etc. 
 
 61. Prevented. In its primitive sense of anticipated, Cf. Ham, ii. 2. 
 305, etc. ; also Ps. cxix. 147, and i Thess. iv. 15. 
 
 67. Exceeding strange. S., like other writers of his time, often uses 
 exceeding as an adverb. He uses exceedingly only five times — in four of 
 which it modifies the adverb well ("exceedingly well met," Z. L. L. iii. 
 I. 144, etc), while in the fifth {Ham. v. 2. 103) it modifies an adjective 
 understood, Cf Gen. xv. I, 2 Sam. viii. 8, etc. Exceeding strange = our 
 expression, " very much of a stranger." 
 
ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 129 
 
 74. Respect upon the world. Regard for the world. " There is an allu- 
 sion to the literal meaning of respect: *you look too much upon the 
 world'" (Gr. 191). 
 
 78. A stage, Cf. the famous passage, " All the world 's a stage," A, Y, 
 L. ii. 7. 139 foL 
 
 79. Let me play the fooL Let the part assigned to me be that of the 
 fool ; who was always one of the characters in the old comedies. Cf, 
 2 Hen. IV. ii. 2. 154 : ** thus we play the fools with the time ;" and Lear^ 
 iv. I. 40 : *' Bad is the trade that must play fool to sorrow." 
 
 81. Lrve7\ Cf. A. and C. ii, I. 23: "I had rather heat my liver with 
 drinking." 
 
 82. Than my heart cool^ etc. There may be an allusion here to the old 
 belief that every sigh or groan robbed the heart of a drop of blood. Cf. 
 M. N'. D. iii. 2. 97: " Sighs of love that costs the fresh blood dear." See 
 our ed. p. 163. 
 
 84. Alabaster. All the early eds. have " alablaster," as in all other 
 instances of the word in S. Cf. Spenser, F. Q. iii, 2. 42 : " Her alablaster 
 breast," etc. 
 
 85.- Creep into the jaundice. In the only other passage in which S, 
 mentions the jaundice, the cause of the disease is, as here, a mental one. 
 See T. and C. i. 3, 2. 
 
 89. Do cream and mantle. Cf Lear^ iii. 4. 139: "the green mantle 
 of the standing pool." R.'s quarto has *'dreame" for cr^am. 
 
 90. And do a wilful stillness entertain. And who do maintain an ob- 
 stinate silence. This kind of ellipsis is not uncommon in writers of the 
 time. Cf Bacon i^Adv. of L.) : " His eye and tooth they lent to Perseus ; 
 and so , . . (he) hastens towards Medusa ;" and Spenser {F. Q. i. I. 19) : 
 
 " His gall did grate for griefe and high disdaine, 
 And knitting all his force [he] got one hand free." . 
 
 91. With purpose to be dressed. Cf ** with purpose presently to leave," 
 etc, IC. John, v. 7, 86 ; and "with purpose to relieve," i Hen. VL i. 1. 133, 
 etc. 
 
 Opinion of wisdom. Reputation for wisdom. 
 
 92. Coiueit. Intellect. Cf A. K L. p. 194, note on 50. 
 
 93. As who should say. Like one who should say. Cf. T. of S, iv. 3. 13 : 
 
 "As who should say, if I should sleep or eat, 
 'Twere deadly sickness, or else present death." 
 
 96. That therefore only are reputed wise, etc. That are reputed wise 
 only on this account, that they say nothing. For similar tranposition 
 of a clause with therefore, see Isa, v. 13 and John, viii. 47. Pope calls 
 silence "Thou varnisher of fools, and cheat of all the wise." 
 
 97. When, I am very sure, etc. Rowe changes when to " who," and Coll. 
 reads "'twould" for would; but it is probable that we have here an 
 ellipsis of th^ nominative, as in 90 above. Cf Gr. 399. Would almost 
 damn, etc., means that the hearers could hardly help calling them fools, 
 and thus exposing themselves to the judgment threatened in Scripture 
 {Matt. V. 22). 
 
 102. Fvol-gudgeoH. Old Izaak Walton says of the gudgeon : " It is an 
 
 < I 
 
I30 
 
 NOTES, 
 
 excellent fish to enter (initiate) a young angler, being easy to be taken^ 
 On the adjective use oifool, cf. " fool multitude," ii. 9. 25 below. 
 
 108. Moe. More. See A. Y. L. p. 1 76. 
 
 no. For this gear. For this purpose, or matter ; an expression some- 
 times used, as here, without very definite meaning. 
 
 116. Yoii shall seek all day. Shall and should are often used in all 
 three persons, by the Elizabethan writers, to denote mere futurity. See 
 Gr. 315, 322 fol. 
 
 124. By something showing. This adverbial use of something {=^ovciQ' 
 what), which occurs twice in this speech, is common in S. Gr. 68. 
 
 Mo7-e swelling port. Grander state. Cf. "greatest port," iii, 2. 283 
 below, and "keep house, and port, and servants," T. of S. i. i. 208. 
 
 125. Would grant continuance. That is, continuance of. Such ellipsis 
 is common in the Elizabethan writers. Cf. ii. 6. 9 and iv. i. 380 below ; 
 and see Gr. 394 (cf. 202). 
 
 126. Make moan to be abridged. " Complain that I am curtailed." Cf, 
 " made moan to me," iii. 3. 23 below. 
 
 130. Gdg'd. Engaged, bound. Cf. 7\and C. v. i. 46: "gaging me to 
 keep An oath," etc. 
 
 136. Still. See on 17 above. 
 
 137. Within the eye of honour. Within the range of what can be viewed 
 (or regarded) as honourable. 
 
 139. Occasions. Needs; here a quadrisyllable. See on 8 above. 
 
 141. Flight.' A technical term to denote the range of an arrow. Wr. 
 quotes Ascham's Toxophilus : "You- must have divers shafts of one 
 flight, feathered with divers wings, for divers winds." 
 
 142. More advised* More careful. See Rich. II.\. 2,> i'^^-. "advised 
 purpose," that is, deliberate purpose. Cf the modern use of unadvised. 
 
 143. To find the other forth. To find the other out. Cf "to find his 
 fellow forth," C.ofE. i. 2. 37 ; and "inquire you forth," T. G.ofV. ii.4. 186. 
 
 144. Childhood proof Experiment of my childhood. 
 
 146. Like a wilftd youth. Elliptical for " like what will happen with a 
 wilful (that is, wilful in his prodigality) youth." For wilful Warb- reads 
 "witless," and the Coll. MS. "wasteful." 
 
 148. That self way. That same way. Cf. " this self place," 3 Hen. 
 VI. iii. I. II ; "that self mould, Rich. II. i. 2. 23, etc. This use of self'is 
 found before Chaucer ("self lond," Robt. of Glotic.,A.T>. 1298); and even 
 so late a writer as Dryden has "at that self moment." 
 
 154. Circumstance. Circumlocution ; as in Ham. i. 5. 217, C. of E. v. 
 1. 28, 0th. i. I. 13, etc. . . 
 
 156. In making question^ etc. "In doubting my readiness to do my 
 utmost in your service " (Wr.). 
 
 160. Prest. Ready ; the old French /r^j/ {wovi prit\ Italian and Span- 
 ish presto, from Latin adv. prcesto, through the late Latin prcestus. Cf. 
 Per. iv. prol. 45. 
 
 161. Richly left. Cf. *.' those rich-left heirs," Cymb. iv. 2.' 226. 
 
 163. Sometifnes. In time past, formerly. Sometimes and sometime are 
 used interchangeably by S. in this and their other senses. See Gr. 68a. 
 Cf. also Col. i. 21, iii. 7 with Eph. ii. 13. 
 
ACT I. SCENE 11. 131 
 
 165. Nothing iinde^-valued. Nowise inferior. Cf. ii. 7. 53 below. 
 
 166. Brutus'' Portia. See Julitts Ccssar, in which this "woman well 
 reputed, Cato's daughter," is a prominent character. 
 
 170. Like a golden fleece^ etc. The Argonautic expedition is alluded 
 to again, iii. 2. 243 below : " We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece." 
 
 175. I have a mind presages. That is, which presages. .This omission 
 of the relative was very common in S.'s time. * Cf. J/./^r yJ/. ii. 2. 34 : 
 " I have a brother is condemned to die ;" W. T. v. i. 23 : " You are one 
 of those Would have him wed again." In modern usage, the objective 
 is sometimes omitted, but the nominative very rarely. Gr. 244. 
 
 Thrift. Success. Cf. " well-won thrift " and " thrift is blessing," i. 3. 
 44, 80 below. 
 
 178. Commodity. Property. In iii. 3. 27 below the word is used in 
 the obsolete sense, of advantage or gain. Cf. W. T. iii. 2. 94: "To me 
 can life be no commodity;" Lear, iv. i. 23: "our mere defects Prove 
 our commodities," etc. 
 
 183. Pi'esently. Immediately. Cf. Temp.'w. 1.42: '•''Ariel. Presently? 
 Prospero. Ay, with a twink ;" and again, v. i. loi : '''' Prospero. And pres- 
 endy, I prithee. Ariel. I drink the air before me, and return Or ere your 
 pulse beat twice ;" T. G. of V. ii. 7. 89 : " Come, answer not, but to it 
 presently !" See also i Sa7n. ii. 16, and Matt. xxvi. 53. 
 
 185. To have it of my trust, etc. Of obtaining it either on my credit as 
 a merchant, or as a personal favour. 
 
 Note the rhyme in the last couplet, as often at the close of a scene. 
 
 Scene II. — i. Aweary. Cf. M. N. D. v. i. 255, Macb. v. 5. 49, etc. 
 
 6. It is no mean happiness. So in the quartos. The folios have "no 
 small happiness." The repetition is in Shakespeare's manner. 
 
 18. But this reasoning is not in the fashion.- The ist folio has, " But this 
 reason is not in fashion ;" and below, " It is not hard " for " Is it not hard." 
 
 23. Nor refuse none. For the double negative, cf. K. Johti, v. 7. 1 12: 
 "This England never did, nor never shall," etc. Gr. 406. 
 
 28. But one who you shall rigJitly love. Who is the object, not the sub- 
 ject, of love, as appears from the question which follows : What affection 
 have you for any of the suitors that are already come ? Who for whofn 
 is not unusual in the writers of the time. Cf. ii. 6. 30 below. Gr. 274. 
 
 30. Are already eome. On are come ( —have come), see Gr. 295. 
 
 33. Level at. Aim at, guess. Cf. 2 Hen. JV. iii. 2. 286: "the foeman 
 may with as great aim level at the edge of a penknife." The noun is 
 used in the same way, as in lien. VIIL i. 2. 2 : "I stood i' the level Of a 
 full-charg'd confederacy." • 
 
 36. Makes it a great appropriation, etc. That is, takes great credit to 
 himself for it. S. nowhere else uses either appropriation or appropriate. 
 
 38. Then is there the County Palatine. The folio has it, "Than is there 
 the Countie Palentine." Thati and then are. different forms of the same 
 word, used interchangeably by old writers.. Cf R. of L. 1440. Y ox county 
 = count, see R. and J. (yvjiere it occurs eleven times), A. W. iii. 7. 22, etc. 
 
 40. An you will not. The folio has "And you." And or an for if \^ 
 very common in old writers, as well as and if ox an if See Gr. 105. 
 
132 NOTES. 
 
 41. The weeping philosopher. Heracleitus, of Ephesus, who, from his 
 melancholy disposition, is represented in various old traditions as the 
 contrast to Uemocritus (*'the laughing philosopher"), weeping over the 
 frailties and follies at which the latter laughed. 
 
 43. / had rather to he married. Had rather and had better are good En- 
 glish, though many writers of grammars tell us that we should say would 
 rather^ etc., instead. Cf. A. V. L. p. 158. In Rich. II. iii. 3. 192, we find 
 the impersonal form, *' me rather had." See Gr. 230. Rather is the com- 
 parative oi rath (see W\\\.oxi^ Lycidas : ''the rath primrose "), and is often 
 found in the old writers in the sense of earlier^ sooner. Thus Spenser, 
 Shep. Kal. Feb., speaks of " the rather lambes." The to is omitted by the 
 quartos and many modern editors, but it is found in the folio. Cf. Olh. 
 i. 3. 191 : ''I had rather to adopt a child," etc. For to with the infini- 
 tive, and examples of its use by S. where it would now be omitted, and 
 its omission where it would now be used, see Gr. 349 fol. 
 
 46. Him) say you l)y^ etc. By here, as not unfrequently —about or con- 
 ceriiing. Cf. ii. 9. 25 : " may be meant by the fool multitude." So Latimer 
 (Serm.) : " How think you by the ceremonies," etc. So in i Cor. iv. 4, " I 
 know nothing by myself," that is, am conscious of nothing (of guilt) con- 
 cerning (or against) myself. Gr. 145. For "Monsieur le Bon" the early 
 eds. have " Mounsier Le Bowie.'''' 
 
 52. Throstle. Pope's emendation for the " trassell " of the quartos and 
 1st folio. The other folios have " tarssell ". or " tassell." 
 
 A-capering. See Gr. 24. 
 
 62. A proper man''s picture. A proper man is a man " as he should be " 
 (Craik) ; often, a handsome man. S. uses properer {R. aud J. ii. 4. 217) 
 and properest [Much Ado^ v. i. 174) in the same sense. Improper ( = 
 unbecoming) he uses but once [Lear^ v. 3. 221). 
 
 64. Suited. Dressed. Cf. "richly suited," A. W. i. i. 170, and Milton's 
 "civil-suited morn" [11 Pens.). 
 
 Doublet. " The doublet (so called from being originally lined or wad- 
 ded for defence) was a close-fitting coat, with skirts reaching a little be- 
 low the girdle." The " round hose " were coverings for the legs, not the 
 feet — " trowsers or breeches, reaching to the knee." The phrase " doub- 
 let and hose," as equivalent to "coat and breeches," occurs often in S. 
 See M. W. iii. 3. 35, Much Ado, v. I. 203, A. Y. L. iii. 2. 206, 232, etc. 
 *^ French hose" are referred to in Macb. ii. 3. 16 and Hen. V. iii'. 7. 56. 
 Bonnet^ originally the name of a stuff, came to be applied to the man's 
 cap made of it, as it still is in Scottish. 
 
 67. The Scottish lord. The Scottish of the quartos, printed before the 
 accessiofi of James I., was changed to other in the folio of 1623, to avoid 
 giving offence to that monarch. Warb. sees in this passage an allusion 
 to the " constant promises of assistance that the French gave the Scots 
 in their quarrels with the English." 
 
 71. Sealed under for another. Becaifie surety for another box on the ear. 
 
 74. Vilely. Vildly or vildely \\\ the early eds., as almost always. 
 
 80. You should refuse. For the should, see Gr. 322. 
 
 90. Some other sort. Some other way ; or perhaps sort may be =/^/, as 
 W. suggests. Cf " draw the sort," 7! and C. i. 3. 376. Imposition = Q,on- 
 
ACT /. SCENE III. 133 
 
 dition imposed. In iii. 4. 33 the word is used again in this literal sense 
 of something 'Maid upon" one as a burden or duty. 
 
 92. Sibylla. Here used as a proper name, like " Sibyl " in T. of S. i. 
 2. 70. So Bacon, irt Colours of Good ajid Evil, 10, speaks of " Sybilluy when 
 she brought her three books," and in Adv. of L. ii. 23. 33, of ^^ SybilUies 
 books." But in 0th. iii. 4. 70 we have "A sibyl," and in i Hen. VI. 
 i. 2. 56, "nine sibyls." The reference here is to the Cumaean sibyl, who 
 obtained from Apollo a promise that her years should be as many as the 
 grains of sand she was holding in her hand. The story is told by Ovid, 
 Met. XV. 
 
 94. This parcel of wooers. Cf. "This youthful parcel of noble bach- 
 elors," A. W. ii. 3. 58. 
 
 96. / wish them a fair departure. The quartos read, *' I pray God 
 grant them," etc. It has been supposed that the latter was the original 
 reading, and that it was changed in the folio on account of the act of 
 Parliament, in the time of James I., against the use of the name of God 
 on the stage. But the folio has the word God in more than a dozen 
 places in the play, and Portia herself (though W. thinks it would not 
 "suit her lips" in this case) has used it twice already in this very scene. 
 In ii. 2, Launcelot uses it often and profanely. 
 
 105. Thy praise. The quartos (followed by some modern eds.) add 
 ** How now ! what news ?" 
 
 106. Seek for you. The folios om\tfor. 
 
 110. With so good heart as, etc. We now seldom use so . . . as, prefer- 
 ring as . . . as, except where so requires special emphasis. Gr. 275. 
 
 112. Condition. Nature, disposition. Cf. 0th. ii. I. 255 : "she 's full of 
 most blessed condition ;" and Rich. III. iv. 4. 157: "I have a touch of 
 your condition," etc. Cf. also "best conditioned," iii. 2. 295 below. 
 
 116. Whiles. The genitive singular of while (which was originally a 
 noun) used as an adverb. It occurs in Matt. v. 25. See Gr. 137. 
 
 Scene III. — i. Ducats. The value of the Venetian silver ducat was 
 about that of the American dollar. 
 
 4. For the which. This archaism is occasionally found in S., as in the 
 Bible i^Gen. i. 29, etc.). The ivho \s never found; perhaps, as Abbott 
 suggests, because which is considered an adjective and indefinite, while 
 who is not. So in French we have lequel, but not le qui. See Gr. 270. 
 
 6. May you stead me ? Can you assist me ? May originally expressed 
 ability, as the noun might still does. Can, on the other hand, signified 
 "to know or have skill." We have both words in thejr old sense in 
 Chaucer's line (C T, 2314), " Now helpe me, lady, sith ye may and can." 
 This archaic can is found in Ilafu. iv. 7. 85 : " they can well on horse- 
 back," that is, are well skilled in riding. On stead, cf. M. for M. i. 4. 
 17 : "Can you so stead me As bring me to the sight of Isabella.'*" and 
 A. W. v. 3. Z'j : " to reave her Of what should stead her most." 
 
 Pleasure me. So \\\ M. W. i. i. 251 : "What I do is to pleasure yon, 
 coz." See also Much Ado, v. i. 129 and 3 Hen. VI. iii. 2. 22. Cf. Gr. 290. 
 
 II. A good man. That is, "good " in the connnercial sense — " having 
 pecuniary ability; of unimpaired credit" (Wb.). 
 
134 NOTES. 
 
 13. Ho^ no, etc. The reading of all the early eds. 
 
 15. In supposition. Doubtful, risked at sea. 
 
 16. Tripolis. The old name of Tripoli^ a seaport of Syria, formerly 
 of great commercial importance. 
 
 17. Rialto. The chief of the islands on which Venice is built was called 
 Isola di' Rialto {rivo alto\ the Island of the Deep Stream. The name 
 Rialto came also to be applied to the Exchange, which was on that island. 
 It is the Exchange which is here meant — "a most stately building . . . 
 where the Venetian gentlemen and the merchants doe meete twice a day, 
 betwixt eleven and twelve of the clocke in the morning, and betwixt five 
 and sixe of the clocke in the afternoon " (Coryat's Crudities, 161 1). The 
 bridge known as the Rialto (Ponte di Rialto) was begun in 1588 and fin- 
 ished in 1591. 
 
 18. Squandered. Scattered. So in Howell's Letters, 1650, we have 
 "islands that lie squandered in the vast ocean." Even Dryden {Annus 
 Mirab.) has "They drive, they squander the huge Belgian fleet." S. 
 uses the word only here and in A. Y. L. ii. 7. 57 : "squandering glances." 
 
 19. There be land-rats. In old English, besides the present tense aiJi, 
 etc., there was also this form be, from the Anglo-Saxon beon. The 2d 
 pers. sing, was beest. The ist and 3d pers. plu. be is often found in S. 
 and the Bible. Cf. Gr. 300. 
 
 27. If it please you. This impersonal form (cf. the French s^il vous 
 plait), after being contracted into if you please, has come to be considered 
 as personal, and we now say if I please, if he pleases, etc. The verb thus 
 gets a new meaning, to please becoming —to be pleased. 
 
 30. And so folloiving. And so forth. S. uses the phrase nowhere else. 
 
 36. For he is a Christian. We should now S2iy,for being a Christian. 
 When thus used, for is often followed by that, as in the next line. Of 
 course we could now say, "I hate him, for he is a Christian," but the 
 meaning would be different. In this case, as in the other, the for is 
 equivalent to because, but it connects more loosely, as the comma indi- 
 xates. The difference-in meaning is perhaps better illustrated by a case 
 like the following {M.for M. ir. i. 27) : 
 
 " You may not so extenuate his offence 
 For I have had such faults ;" 
 
 that is, the fact that I have been guilty is no excuse for him. The mod- 
 ern reading would make nonsense of it. 
 
 39. Usance. Interest. Thomas, in his Historye of Italy e, 1561, says : 
 "It is almoste incredyble what gaine the Venetians receiue by the vsury 
 of the Jewes, both pryuately and in common. For in euerye citee the 
 Jewes kepe.open shops of vsurie, taking gaiges of ordinarie for xv. in the 
 hundred by the yere : and if at the yeres ende, the gaige be not redemed, 
 it is forfeite, or at the least dooen away to a great disaduantage : by rea- 
 son whereof the Jewes are out of measure wealthie in those parties." 
 
 40. Upon the hip. To " catch upon the hip " was a phrase used by 
 wrestlers. Some make it refer to hunting, "because, when the animal 
 pursued is seized upon the hip, it is finally disabled from flight." Cf. 
 iv. I. 330 below, and 0th. ii. i. 314. 
 
 45. Which he calls interest. Usance, usury, and interest were equivalent 
 
ACT L SCENE III. 135 
 
 terms in S.'s day. It was disreputable to take interest at all. It was 
 considered " against nature for money to beget money." ' See Bacon's 
 Essay on Usurie. 
 
 47. Debating of my present store, (9/" is often used by the Elizabethan 
 writers in the sense of about or concertimg. Cf. Temp, ii. I. 81 : *^ You 
 make me study of that," etc. See Gr. 174. 
 
 53. Rest you fair, *' Heaven grant you fair fortune !" Cf. " Rest you 
 merry !" {R. and J. i. 2. 65) " God rest you merry !" {A, Y, L, v. 1. 165), etc. 
 
 56. Excess. More than the sum lent or borrowed ; interest. 
 
 57. Ripe wants. Wants that admit of no delay, like ripe fruit that 
 must be gathered at once. 
 
 58. Possessed. Informed. Cf. iv. i. 35 below : " I have possessed your 
 grace of what I purpose ;" Cor. ii. i. 145 : ** is the senate possessed of 
 this?" etc. 
 
 59. How much you would. The folio misprints " he would." Would 
 is often used absolutely, as here, for wish or require, 
 
 63. Methought. This thought is from the A. S. verb thincan^ to seem, 
 and not iroxn the ncan^ to think. It is used impersonally, the me being a 
 dative. Methought=\i seemed to me. In Chaucer we find him thoughte, 
 hem (them) thoughte^ hir (her) thoughte^ etc. 
 
 65. When Jacobs etc. See Gen. xxvii. and xxx. 
 
 72. Were conipromis' d. Had mutually agreed- 
 
 73. Eanlings. Lambs just brought forth ; from A. S. eanian, to bring 
 forth. Yeanling is another form of the same word, and was substituted 
 by Pope here. 
 
 Pied. Spotted. We have " daisies pied " in L. L. L. v. 2. 904 (and in 
 Milton's V Allegro) ; and in Temp. iii. 2. 71 Caliban calls Trinculo a 
 "pied ninny," from the parti-coloured coat which he wore as a jester. 
 
 75. PilVd me. Peeled. Cf. the Bible narrative (^Gen. xxx. ^^l^, 38). 
 The me is expletive, as often. See the dialogue between Petruchio and 
 Grumio in T. of S. i. 2. 8 fol. Gr. 220. 
 
 78. Fall, Let fall, bring forth. Gr. 291. 
 
 84. Was this inserted, etc. Was this inserted in Scripture to justify 
 usury? 
 
 88. The devil can cite Scripture. See Matt, iv.4, 6. 
 
 89. Producing holy witness. Adducing sacred authority. 
 
 95. Beholding. Often used by S., Bacon, and other writers of the time, 
 instead of behold^n^ which, as Craik has shown, is probably a corrupted 
 form oi gehealden, the perfect participle of A. S. healdan, to hold, whence 
 its meaning of hehh bound, obliged. 
 
 96. Many a time and oft. An old phrase, still familiar, =many and 
 many a time, that is, many times, and yet again many more times. 
 
 loi. Misbeliever. Strictly, one who believes wrongly, as unbeliever is 
 one who does not believe, or an infidel. S. uses the word only here. 
 
 102. Spet. An obsolete spelling oi spit, used occasionally by S., as it 
 is by Milton in the one instance {Comus, 132) in which he employs the 
 word. 
 
 Gaberdine. A long coarse frock. See Temp. ii. 2.40, 115. The garment 
 and the name are still used by the peasantry in some parts of England. 
 
136 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 105. Go to. A phrase of exhortation or encouragement, sometimes used 
 scornfully. Cf. Tenip. v. i. 297, M. W. i. 4. 165, etc. ; also Gen. xi. 4, etc. 
 
 124. A breed of barreft metal. The quartos have " a breed for." Breed 
 is money bred from the principal. Shylock had used the same metaphor 
 for interest. 
 
 126. Who if he break. The "relative with a supplementary pronoun*'* 
 (Gr. 248, 249) often occurs in the writers of the time. Cf. V. and A. 935 : 
 
 ^^IVho, when he liv'd, kis breath and beauty set 
 Gloss on the rose, smell on the violet." 
 
 " If he breaky'' that is, " break his day," a current expression =fail to 
 fulfil his engagement. Shylock uses the phrase below. 
 
 128. I would be friends zvith you. A "grammatical impropriety," but 
 even now a familiar idiom. 
 
 130. Doit. A small Dutch coin, worth about a quarter of a cent. Cf. 
 T. of A. \. I. 21^ : " Which will not cost a man a doit ;" and Cor. v. 4. 60 ; 
 " I 'd not have given a doit." ' . 
 
 135. Your single bond. Your individual bond, without sureties. 
 
 In a merry sport. In the old ballad of Gernutus^ the Jew says : 
 
 "But we will haue a merry iest, 
 for to be talked long ; 
 You shall make me a Band (quoth he) 
 that shall be large and strong. 
 
 And this shall be the forfeyture, 
 
 of your own Flesh a pound : • 
 If you agree, make you the Band, 
 
 and here is a hundred Crownes. " 
 
 138. Let the fojfeit, etc. Let the forfeit named as an equivalent be a 
 pound of your flesh. 
 
 141. Pleaseth me. That is, "/V pleaseth me" (the folio reading). See 
 on 27 above. In C. of E. iv. i. 12 we have, "Pleaseth you walk with 
 me," etc. ; and in 3 Hen. VI. ii. 6. 104, " Warwick . . . shall do and undo, 
 as him pleaseth best." 
 
 145. Divell. Continue, remain. 
 
 151. Deali7tgs teaches them suspect. There were three forms of the plural 
 in early English — the Northern in es, the Middle in en, the Southern in eth. 
 The first two are found in Elizabethan authors. Sometimes they are 
 used for the sake of the rhyme ; sometimes for reasons that are not evi- 
 dent. Teaches, according to Abbott (Gr. 333), is one of these old plurals. 
 On the omission of the to of the infinitive, see Gr. 349. 
 
 153. Break his day. See on 127 above, and cf. Hey wood's Fair Maid 
 of the Exchange, ii. 2 : 
 
 "If you do break your day, assure yourself 
 That I will take the forfeit of your bond." 
 
 157. Muttons, beefs. These Norman-French words are here used in 
 their original sense. The plural beeves is still used for the living animals, 
 and the singular form beeve is occasionally met with. Wb. quotes an 
 instance from Irving. 
 
 159. If he will take it, so. That is, so be it, or sornething of the kind. 
 ^S"^ was often thus used as a particle of assent or affirmation. Cf. i Hen, 
 /F". V. 4. 144: "If your father will do me any honour, so," etc 
 
ACT IL ■ SCENE L i^y 
 
 165. Fearful gtiard Of an unthrifty knave, Fearfitl=\.o be feared or 
 distrusted ; untrustworthy. K^iave^ which mearrt originally only a boy, 
 and now means only a rogue, was in current use in S.'s time with either 
 signification. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. — The stage-direction in the first folio is: '^ Enter Morochns 
 a tawftie Moore all in white^ and three or foiire followers accordingly^ with 
 Portia^ Nerrissa, and their traine. Flo. Cornets.'''' 
 
 I. Mislike. S. generally uses dislikey but mislike in 2 Hen. VI. i. i. 140 
 and A. and C. iii. 13. 147 ; also once as a noun, in 3 Hen. VI. iv. i. 24. 
 
 Complexio7t. A quadrisyllable. See on i. i. 8 above. Gr. 479. 
 
 6. Let lis make incision^ etc. Red blood was a traditionary sign of 
 courage. Macbeth (v. 3. 15) calls one of his frightened soldiers a "lily- 
 livered boy," and Falstaff (2 Hen. IV. iv. 3. 113) speaks of the "liver 
 white and pale" as a badge of cowardice. Below (iii. 2. 86) Bassanio 
 talks of cowards who "have livers white as milk." 
 
 7. Reddest. The use of the superlative in a comparison of two objects, 
 though condemned by most of the modern grammars, is good old English. 
 
 8. Aspect . . . feared. On the accent of aspect, see on i. i. 54 above. 
 Fear'' d=.caused Ko fear, terrified. Cf 3 He7i. VI. v. 2. 2 : "For Warwick 
 was a bug that fear'd us all." In T. of S. i. 2. 211 we have both senses 
 oi fear in close connection: '"'' Petruchio. Tush! tush! fear boys with 
 bugs. Griimio. For he fears none." 
 
 10. Best-regarded. " Of highest rank and estimation " (Schmidt)*. 
 12. To steal your thoughts. As a thief disguised. 
 
 14. Nice direction. Fastidious estimation. Cf. " nice and coy," T. G. 
 ofV,'\\\. I. 82, etc. 
 
 17. Scanted. Limited, restricted. Cf. iii. 2. 112 below: "Scant this 
 excess ;" and v. i. 141 : " Scant this breathing courtesy." 
 
 18. Wit. In its original sense oi foresight, wisdom (A. S. wit, mind), 
 as in the familiar expressions, "at his wit's end," "lost his wits;" etc. 
 S. uses the word also in its present sense. 
 
 20. Yourself. The pronouns myself thyself etc., were often used in 
 S.'s time (as they still are in poetry) as the subject of a verb. See Gr. 
 20. Cf Milton, P. L. iv. 75 : " Myself am hell," etc. 
 
 Stood as fair. Would have stood. Iwfiir there is an allusion to the 
 Moor's complexion. 
 
 25. The Sophy. The Sufi, or Shah of Persia. Cf T. N'. ii. 5. 197 and 
 iii. 4. 307. Bacon (Essay 43) speaks of " Isuiael, the Sophy oi Persia.'''' 
 
 26. Sultan Solymart. The most famous sultan of this name was Soly- 
 man the Magnificent, who reigned from 1520 to 1566. 
 
 27'. Cer-stare. This is the reading of the; folios and H.'s quarto. R.'s 
 quarto has " outstare." 
 
 31. Alas the while I This expression, like Woe the ivhile ! {J. C i. 3. 
 82), seems originally to have meant, " Alas for the present state of things ! ' 
 but it came to be used as indefinitely as the simple alas ! 
 
138 
 
 NOTES, 
 
 32. Hercules and Lichas. Lichas was the servant who brought to Her- 
 cules the poisoned tunic from Dejanira, according to Ovid (Met. ix. .155). 
 
 Play at dice Which is, etc. That is, in order to decide which is, etc. 
 As Abbott ( Gr. 382 ) has said, "The Elizabethan writers objected to 
 scarcely any ellipsis, provided the deficiency could be easily supplied 
 from the context." 
 
 35. Alcides beatejz by his page, Alcides, according to Diodorus, was 
 the original name of Hercules, given him on account of his descent from 
 Alcaeus, the son of Perseus. The early eds. all have " rage " instead of 
 page ; corrected by Theobald. 
 
 43. Nor will not. See on i. 2. 23 above. 
 
 44. The temple. The church, where the oath was to be taken. 
 
 46. Blest or cursed^ st. It is possible that blest is to be regarded as an 
 instance of the ellipsis of the superlative ending, not unusual at that 
 time. Cf. M. for M. iv. 6. 13 : " The generous and gravest citizens." So 
 Heywood : " Only the grave and wisest of the land;" and Ben Jonson : 
 *' The soft and sweetest music." In iii. 2. 288 we have " The best condi- 
 tioned and unwearied spirit," where the ellipsis is in the second adjective. 
 
 Scene II. — The stage-direction in the early eds. is " Enter the cloivue 
 alone. ^'' 
 
 8. Scorn running with thy heels. The play upon words is obvious, 
 though it sorely troubled Steevens, who even proposed as an emenda- 
 tioji " Scorn running ; withe (i. e. hamper wnth a tvithe, or osier band) 
 thy heels." Cf Much Ado, iii. 4. 51 : "I scorn that with my heels." 
 
 9. Via I Away ! (Italian). Ci. M. W. ii. 2. 159, L. L. L. v. i. 156, etc. 
 Here the early eds. have "fia ;" corrected by Rowe. 
 
 10. For the heavens! Mason proposed to change heavens to haven, 
 because " it is not likely that S. would make the Devil conjure Launcelot 
 to do anything for Heaven's sake f but, of course, as Boswell has sug- 
 gested, the wit of the expression consists in that very incongruity. 
 
 14. Well, 7?iy conscience says, etc. The ist folio reads thus : " wel, my 
 conscience saies Lancelet bouge not, bouge saies the fiend, bouge not 
 sales my conscience, conscience say I you counsaile well, fiend say I you 
 counsaile well, to be rul'd by my conscience I should stay with the leiv 
 my Maister, (who God blesse the marke) is a kinde of diuell ;" etc. 
 
 18. God bless (or save) the mark I The origin and the meaning of this 
 expression are alike obscure. It appears to be used most frequently *' as 
 a parenthetic apology for some profane or vulgar word." 
 
 21. htcarnation. For incarnate, of course. R.'s quarto has incarnal. 
 
 29. Sand-blind. Dim of sight ; as if there were sand in the eye, or 
 perhaps floating before it. It means something more than purblind, for 
 Latimer {Sermons) says, *' The Saintis be purre-blinde and sand-blinde." 
 High-gravel-blind \^ Launcelot's own exaggeration of the word. 
 
 30. Confusions. The reading of H.'s quarto and the folios. R.'s qniarto 
 has conclusions, which K. adopts ; but, as Wr. suggests, " Launcelot 
 would not have given a hard word so correctly." 
 
 '^\. Marry. A corruption of Mzrj/. It was originally a mode of swear- 
 ing by the Virgin, but its origin had come to be forgotten in S.'s day. 
 
ACT II. SCENE II 
 
 139 
 
 37. Gocfs sonties. Corrupted from GocTs saints^ or sanctities^ or sante 
 (health) — it is impossible to decide which. 
 
 46. What a' tvill. A^ for he is common in the old dramatists, in the 
 mouths of peasants and illiterate people. 
 
 50. Talk you of youttg Master Launcelot? The early eds. make this 
 imperative, and not interrogative, and are followed by K. and W. ; but 
 D. and the Camb. editors are probably right in regarding the sentence as 
 a repetition of the preceding interrogation (40). 
 
 53. Father. Launcelot twice calls Qto^o father, h\x\. the old man does 
 not even suspect with whom he is talking, since, as W. remarks, the 
 peasantry used to call all old people father or mother. 
 
 54. The sisters three. The Fates of classic fable. 
 
 76. Your child that shall be. Here agairi some of the sand-blind critics 
 have been mystified by Launcelot's incongruous talk. Malone says, 
 ** Launcelot /r^^^<^/j/ here indulges himself in talking nonsense," but he 
 is not quite sure about it ; and Steevens suggests that he " may mean 
 that he shall hereafter prove his claim to the title of child by his dutiful 
 behaviour," etc. 
 
 82. Lord worshipped. Perhaps, as some explain it =a lord worship- 
 ful, referring to the fieard and the claim to the title oi Master. According . 
 to stage tradition, Launcelot kneels with his back to the old man, who, 
 "being sand-blind," mistakes the hair on his head for a beard (St.). 
 
 84. Fill-horse. Fill for thill, or shaft, is a familiar word in New Eng- 
 land, but in old England it is not known except as a provincialism in 
 the Midland counties. We have " i' the fills " in T. and C. iii. 2. 48. 
 
 91. Gree. The spelling of all the early eds. Cf Wb. 
 
 92. I have set up my rest. That is, I have determined. "A metaphor 
 taken from play, where the highest stake the parties were disposed to 
 venture was called the rest.'''' Nares restricts the term to the old game 
 oi primer o, but Gifford (endorsed by Dyce) says that it is incorrect to do 
 so. The expression occurs also in A. W.\\. i. 138, C. of E.'w.T^.z^y R. 
 and y. iv. 5. 6, etc. 
 
 97. Give me your present. See on i. 3. 75 above. 
 
 99. As far -as God has any ground. A characteristic speech in the 
 mouth of a Venetian. The lower orders in Venice regard the mainland 
 with an admiration which can hardly be understood by those who have 
 been able, all their days, to walk where they would (K.). 
 
 108. Gra?nercy. A corruption of the Yr^wchgraJid merci, "great thanks." 
 
 117. Cater-cousins. Commonly explained as —quatre-cousiyis, that is, 
 *' fourth cousins," but this is doubttiil. The meaning evidently is, that 
 they do not seem much akin, or do not agree very well. 
 
 121. A dish of doves. Mr. C. A. Brown infers, from this and other pas- 
 sages in his plays, that S. must have visited Italy. "Where," he asks, 
 "did he obtain his numerous graphic touches of national manners.'* 
 Where did he learn of an old villager's coming into the city with 'a dish 
 of doves ' as a present to his son's master ? A present thus given, and in 
 our days too, and of doves, is not uncommon in Italy." It is possible, 
 however, that the poet gained this knowledge of the country from other 
 travellers ; and it is well known that Kemp, a fellow-actor, visited Italy. 
 
I40 NOTES, 
 
 131. Preferred thee. 'Yo prefer often meant to ** recommend for promo- 
 tion," and sometimes to ''promote." Cf. Cymb.'-n.-i^. 51, iv. 2.386,400, etc. 
 
 134. Ihe old proverb. It is said that there is a Scotch proverb, " The 
 grace of God is gear enough." 
 
 140. Guarded. Trimmed, ornamented. The broidered edging ^//^?v/^^ 
 (protected) the cloth from wear. See Hen. VI/I. prol. 16 and Much 
 Ado, i. I. 288. Cf. "guards on wanton Cupid's hose,"Z. L. L. iv. 3. 58. 
 
 141. In. Go in ; as in C. of E. v. i. 37, etc. 
 
 142. Well, if any 7)iait, etc. This is Johnson's punctuation, which W. also 
 follows. The construction is, " Well, if any man in Italy which doth offer 
 to swear upon a book have a fairer table " — the expression being like " any 
 man that breathes," etc. After having thus admired his table, he breaks 
 off to predict his good fortune. As Johnson remarks, " the act of expand- 
 ing his hand" reminds him of laying it on the book in taking an oath. 
 
 In chiromancy, or palmistry (fortune-telling by the lines on the palm 
 of the hand), the table line, or li7ie of fortune, is the one running from the 
 fore-finger below the other fingers to the side of the hand. The natural 
 line is the one running through the middle of the palm. The Hue of life 
 is the one which encircles the ball of the thumb. The space between 
 • the two first is called 7nensa, or the table. 
 
 145. Aleven. A vulgarism for eleven. 
 
 149. For this gear. See on i. i. 1 10 above. 
 
 151. Of an eye. The words are found only in R.'s quarto. 
 
 153. Bestoivd. Put away, disposed of. Cf 2 Kijtos, v. 24, Lttke, xii. 
 17, 18, etc. See also C. of E. i. 2. 78, J. C. i. 3. 151, etc. 
 
 163. Hear thee. In this, as in some other expressions ("fare thee well," 
 etc.), thee appears to be used for thou, and not reflexively. Cf. Gr. 212. 
 
 168. Liberal. Free, reckless ; but not in so bad a sense as in Much 
 Ado, iv. I. 93 ("a liberal villain"), where it means licentious. Cf. "lib- 
 eral shepherds," Ham. iv. 7. 171. 
 
 Take paift. We now use only the plural, " take pains." S. uses both. 
 See below, v. i. 180. 
 
 170. Thy skipping spirit. Thy frolicsome humour. Cf Haf?i. iii. 4, 
 123 : ".Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper Sprinkle cool patience." 
 Spirit, as often, is a monosyllable —sprite. Gr. 463. 
 
 171. Misconstrued. The 1st folio has misconsterd here, but miscon- 
 strued in y. C V. 3. 84. 
 
 176. While grace is saying. See Marsh, Lect. on Eng. Lang. (First 
 Serie.s), pp. 649-658. In S.'s day the construction in saying or a- saying 
 was going out of use, and the verbal noun in -i7tg was beginning to be 
 regularly used in a passive sense. The construction, is being said, etc., 
 as Marsh remarks, "is an awkward neologism, which . . . ought to be 
 discountenanced as an attempt at the artificial improvement of the lan- 
 guage at a point where it needed no amendment." The " ignorance of 
 grammarians " has been " a frequent cause of the corruption of language." 
 
 Hood mine eyes. Hats were worn at meals, and especially on ceremonial 
 occaeions — a custom probably derived from the days of chivalry. Even 
 now, at the installation banquet of the Knights of the Garter, all the 
 Knights Companions wear their hats and plumes (St.). 
 
ACT //. SCENES III., IV., AND V. 141 
 
 179. Studiedin a sad o stent. Trained to put on a sober aspect. Below 
 (ii. 8. 44) we have "fair ostents (manifestations, tokens) of love ;" and in 
 Hen. V. V. chor. 21, "full tropliy, signal, and ostent " (display). 
 
 188. / must to Lorenzo. This ellipsis of the verb was common, espe- 
 cially after will ; as " I '11 to him," k. and J. iii. 2. 141, etc. Gr. 405. 
 
 Scene III. — 9. /;/ talk. The quarto reading ; the folios omit in. 
 
 ID. Exhibit. For inhibit (restrain). 
 
 14. What heinous sin. Possibly this is one of the instances in which 
 what is used for what a. Cf. J. C. i. 3. 42 : " What night is this !" See - 
 other examples in Gr. 86 (cf. 256). 
 
 Scene IV. — 5. We have not spoke its yet of. We have not yet bespoken. 
 The reading of the 4th folio (adopted by Pope) is *'as yet." 
 
 6. Quaintly. Tastefully, gracefully. Quaint (from Latin comptus, or, 
 according to some, cognitus — or from both, as Wb. makes it), in the old 
 writers, means elegant, and hence artful, ingenioits. In Johnson's day it 
 had come to mean affected, and now it has *' the united sense of antique 
 and oddy Cf. " quaint lies " below, iii. 4. 69 ; *' fine, quaint, graceful," 
 Much Ado, iii. 4. 22 ; "more quaint, more pleasing," T. of S. iv. 3. 102 ; 
 "quaintly writ," T. G. of F. ii. i. 128; " quaintly made," A/, iii. i. 117, etc. 
 
 7. Not uiidertook. We have " underta'en " in W. T. iii. 2. 79, and "to 
 be undertook " in 0th. y. 2. 311. S. often uses two or more forms of the 
 participle. Thus in jf. C. we have stricken, struck, and strucken [stroken 
 in folio, but strucken in C. of E. i. 2. 45, etc.). So we find mistook and 
 mistaken, etc. We must bear in mind that the Elizabethan age was a 
 transitional period in the history of the language. See Gr. 343, 344. 
 
 10. Break up. Break open ; as in W. T. iii. 2. 132. Break tip was a 
 term in carving ; and in L. L. L. iv. I. 56 we have "break up this capon," 
 where the " capon " is a letter. See our ed. p. 143. 
 
 13. Writ. S. uses both writ and wrote for the past tense, and writ, 
 written, and wrote for the participle. 
 
 23. Provided of Of\s often used of the agent (where we use by), and 
 of the instrument (for ivith), as here. Cf. Macb. i. 2. 13 : "supplied of 
 kernes," etc. Gr. 171. A small number of prepositions serve to express 
 an immense number of relations, and their use in different periods of the 
 language is very variable. 
 
 29. Needs. Of necessity; a genitive used adverbially. Cf. Gr. 25. 
 
 Directed . . . What gold, etc. The ellipsis here is very like what is 
 called a zeugma. 
 
 35. Dare. Either the "subjunctive used imperatively" (Gr. 364), or 
 the 3d pers. of the imperative. 
 
 37. Faithless. Unbelieving; as in Matt.xwu. 17. 
 
 Scene V.— 2. Difference of Cf. Lear, iv. 2. 26 : " O, the difference of 
 man and man !" 
 
 3. What, Jessica! A customary exclamation of impatience, in calling 
 to persons (cf. Temp. iv. i. 33, M. W, i. 4. i, 40, etc.) ; like when {Ttmp. 
 i. 2. 316, y. C. ii. I. 5, etc.). See Gr. 73a* • 
 
142 NOTES. 
 
 1 1. Bid forth. Invited out. Cf. *' find forth," i. 1. 143 above, and " feast- 
 ing forth," 36 below. S. uses bidden only in Much Ado, iii. 3. 32. He 
 uses both bade and bid for the past tense. See on 7 above. 
 
 17. Towards my rest. Against my peace of mind. 
 
 18. To-iti^ht. That is, last night; as in J. C. iii. 3. I : ** 1 dreamt to- 
 night that I did feast with Caesar." Usually in S. it has its modern 
 meaning. 
 
 21. .S'^ do T his. Shylock plays upon Launcelot's blunder of reproach 
 for approach. 
 
 24 BLack-Moitday. Easter-Monday ; so called, as the old chronicler 
 Stowe tells us, because "in the 34th of Edward III. (1360), the 14th of 
 April, and the morrow after Easter-day, King Edward with his host lay 
 before the city of Paris : which day was full dark of mist and hail, and so 
 bitter cold that many men died on their horses' backs with the cold." 
 
 29. The wry-iieck\i fife. It is doubtful whether wjy -nee ked rtitr?, to the 
 fife or the fifer. Boswell quotes from Barnaby Rich (1618) : "A fife is a 
 wry-neckt musician, for he always looks away from his instrument." On 
 the other hand, the old English fife (like one used in classical times) had 
 a bent mouth-piece. It was called the finte h bee, as the mouth-piece 
 resembled the beak of a bird. For squealing- '^.''^ quarto has "squeak- 
 ing." 
 
 35. yacob'^s staff. See Gen. xxxii. 10 and Heb. xi. 21. In Spenser, F. 
 Q. i. 6. 35, " lacobs staffe " more probably refers to St. James (Jacobus), 
 who is usually represented with a pilgrim's hat and staff. 
 
 36. Of feasting forth. Of = for, as often. See Gr. 174; and iox forth, 
 Gr. 41. 
 
 42. fewess^ eye. It is " Jewes" in the quartos and ist and 2d folios, 
 "Jew's" in the later folios. Pope suggested yewess\ which has been 
 generally adopted. W. says that Jewess is not so old as the time of S., 
 but Wr. states that it occurs in the Bible of 1611 {Acts, xvi. i ), and 
 even as early as Wiclif's version. Launcelot's phrase, as D. remarks, 
 is " a slight alteration, for the nonce, of the proverbial expression, Worth 
 a Jew'^s eye.'''' The Jews were often threatened with the loss of an eye, 
 or some other mutilation, in order to extort treasure from them. 
 
 45. Patch. A name given to the professional jester (probably from his 
 patched or parti-coloured coat), and afterwards used as a term of con- 
 tempt. Some derive the word from the Italian pazzo (foolish, insane). 
 
 51. Perhaps Twill return. Abbott (Gr. 319), who denies that S. ever uses 
 iuill for shall, thinks this (and Perchance I will) may be " a regular idiom." 
 It may be that the will=shall (as Wr. makes it), but it is quite as likely 
 that the shade of meaning is such as would now be expressed by w/7/— 
 " Perhaps I may decide to return," or something of the sort. " I shall 
 return " would be future pttre and simple ; " I will return" adds the idea 
 that the possible future act depends upon the speaker's will. 
 
 Scene VI. — 5. Venus'' pigeons. The chariot of Venus was drawn by 
 doves. In Temp. iv. i. 94 she is described as "dove-drawn," and her 
 " doves " are also referred to in M. N. D. i. i. 171, V. and A. 1190, etc. 
 
 7. Obliged, Pledged, plighted. 
 
ACT IL SCENE VL 143 
 
 9. Sits do7vn. That is, sits down with. So in the next sentence, "pace 
 them (with)." This ellipsis of a preposition which has already been ex- 
 pressed before the relative is quite common in S. Cf. y. C. ii. 2. 331 : 
 " To whom it must be done " (to) ; M.for M. ii. 2. 119: '* Most ignorant 
 of what he 's most assured " (of) ; and below (iv. i. 380) : " A gift of all 
 (of which) he dies possess'd." See also on i. i. 125 above. 
 
 10. Untread again. Retrace. 
 
 14. Younger. The reading of all the early eds. Rowe changed it to 
 yoiinker^ which S. uses in i Hen. IV. iii. 3. 92 and 3 Hen. VI. ii. i. 24. 
 
 15. Scarfed. Decked with flags and streamers. In A. IV. ii. 3. 214 
 "scarfs" are associated with "bannerets" in the comparison of a person 
 to a " vessel." 
 
 17. How like the prodigal doth she return. The reading of the quartos, 
 which makes the reference to the parable more direct than the folio "a 
 prodigal." 
 
 18. Over -weather] d. Weather-beaten. This is the reading of both 
 quartos. The folios have " over-wither'd." 
 
 30. Who love /, etc. The inflection oi who is often neglected. See ex- 
 amples in Macb. iii. I. 123, iv. 3. 173, Ccr. ii. i. 8, etc. Directly after a 
 preposition, whom is usually found. Cf. L. L. L. ii. i. 2 : /' Consider who 
 the king your father sends. To whom he sends." But in Cymb. iv. 2. 75 
 and 0th. i. 2. 52 we have the interrogative who even after a preposition : 
 ''To who?'' See Gr. 274. 
 
 -y^"^. Exchange. That is, of apparel. 
 
 42. Too'ioo light. Halliwell has urged that "too too" used to be a 
 compound epithet, and should be printed with a hyphen ; but, as W. 
 remarks, it seems clear that in some cases (as in Ham. i. 2. 129: "this 
 too, too solid flesh") it was an emphatic repetition, just as it is now. 
 
 43. An office of discovery^ etc. The office of a torch-bearer is to show 
 what is in the way, but I ought to keep in the shade. 
 
 47. Close. Secret, stealthy. Cf. Rich. III. p. 183. 
 
 50. More. The quartos have "mo." See on i. i. 108 above. 
 
 51. By my hood. This has been explained as swearing by the hood of 
 his masque-dress ; but it is possible that W. is right in understanding 
 " my hood " here and elsewhere to be " mySelf," that is, " my estate " — 
 manhood, knighthood, or whatever may be appropriate to the speaker. 
 
 Gentile. H.'s quarto and the ist folio have "gentle." There is evi- 
 dently a play upon the two words. 
 
 52. Beshrew me. A very mild imprecation, often used playfully and 
 even tenderly. Cf. M. N. D. p. 1 52. 
 
 54. If that. This use of that as "a conjunctional affix" (Gr. 287) was 
 common* Thus we have " when that " {J. C. iii. 2. 96), " why that " f^Hen. 
 V. V. 2. 34), "while that" {Id. v. 2. 46), "though that" {Cor. i. i. 144), 
 " since that " {Macb. iv. 3. 106), etc., etc. The fuller forms, " If so were 
 that" (Chaucer), " If so be that," etc., suggest that all these expressions 
 may be similar ellipses, as Abbott explains them. 
 
 67. Glad on V. S. often uses on where we should use of. Cf. "jeal- 
 ous on me," J. C. i. 2. 71, and see Gr. 180, 181, 182. In Temp, u 2, 
 on 'I— of it occurs three times. See also i Sam* xxvii. 11. 
 
144 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Scene VII. — 4. Ofgold^ who. In the Elizabethan age, which was not yet 
 established as the neuter relative. It was often applied to persons (as in 
 the Lord's Prayer, *' Our Father which art in heaven ") and who to things. 
 In the next line but one, we have "silver, which.'''' See Gr. 264, 265. 
 . 5. What many men desire. The folios omit many. 
 
 26. If thou be'st raled. This beest must not be confounded with the 
 subjunctive be. It is the A. S. bist^ 2d pers. sing. pres. indicative oi beS'fu 
 to be. See on i. 3. 19 above. 
 
 29. Afeard, S. uses afeard and afraid interchangeably. 
 
 30. Disabling. Disparaging. Disable is used in the same sense in A. 
 y. L. iv. I. 34, V. 4. 80, and i Hen. VI. v. 3, 67. 
 
 41. Ilyrcanian. Hyrcania was an extensive tract of country southeast 
 of the Caspian. S. three times mentions the tigers of Hyrcania : 3 Hefi. 
 VI. i. 4. 155, Macb, iii. 4. 10 1, and Hatn. ii. 2. 472. Cf. Virgil, ^n. iv. 367. 
 
 Vasty. Waste, desolate, like the Latin vastus. S. uses vast several 
 times as a noun =tvaste. See W. T.\. i. 33, Per. iii. .1. i, etc. 
 
 42. Throughfares. Thorough and through are the same word, and S. 
 uses either, as suits the measure. So with throughly and thoroughly. 
 We find ihroughfare again in Cymb. i. 2. 1 1 (see our ed. p. 168). 
 
 43. Come view. See Gr. 349. 
 49. Like. Likely ; as very often. 
 
 51. Too gross ^ etc. Too coarse a material to enclose her shroud. Cere- 
 cloth— cerement i^Ham. i. 4. 48), cloth smeared with melted wax (Lat. cera) 
 or gums, for embalming the dead. Obscure has the accent on the first 
 syllable, because followed by an accented syllable. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 3. 
 154; A little, little grave, an obscure grave;" Ham. iv. 5. 213: "His 
 means of death, his obscure funeral ;" etc. See also on ii. 9. 61 below. 
 
 53. Undervalued^ etc. See on i. I. 165 above. During the Middle 
 Ages, and down to the i6th century, the value of silver was J^ and ^5-, 
 and even, as here stated, ^^ that of gold. In the latter part of the 17th 
 century it fell to as low as J-g. In the 1 8th it rose to j^^, and is now 
 about ^. 
 
 57. Insculp\iupon. Graven on the outside. The angel was worth about 
 ten shillings. It had on one side a figure of Michael piercing the dragon. 
 The use of the device is said to have originated in Pope Gregory's pun 
 
 GOLDEN ANGEL OF QUEEN ELIZABETH- 
 
ACT II. SCENES VIll. AND IX. 
 
 *45 
 
 oi An^lizwdi Angeli. Verstegan, in his Restitution of Decayed Intellii:^eticey 
 says: "The name of Engel is yet at this present in all the Teutonick 
 tongues, to wit, the high and low Dutch, &c., as much to say as Angel, 
 and if a Dutch-man be asked how he would in his language call an Angel- 
 like-man, he would answer, ^^// English-tnait^ E^/gei being in their tongue 
 an Angel, and English, which they wriie Engelsche^ Angel-like. And 
 such reason and consideration may have moved our former kings, upon 
 their best coin of pure and fine gold, to set the image of an angel." The 
 figure shows the angel of Elizabeth. 
 
 63. A carrion death. That is, a skull. 
 
 65. Glisters. Glisten does not occur in S. nor in Milton. In both we 
 find glister several times. See W, 7\ iii. 2. 171, Rich. //. iii. 3. 178, Hen. 
 V. ii. 2. 117, etc. ; Lycidas^ 79, Comus^ 219, P. L. iii. 550, iv. 645, 653, etc. 
 
 69. Tombs. Johnson's emendation for the *' timber" of the early eds. 
 
 77. Part. Depart See Cor. v. 6. 73: "When I parted hence," etc 
 Depart was also used where we should say part ; as in the Marriage 
 Service " till death us do part " is a corruption of "till death us depart, * 
 
 Scene VIII. — 12. A passion. Passionate outcry. Cf. T.audC.v.2.. 
 181 : " Your passion draws ears hither." See also the verb in T.G.of 
 V. iv. 4. 172, V. and A. 1059, etc, 
 
 27. Reason d. Talked, conversed; as in Rich. III. ii. 3. 39, etc K. 
 quotes B. and F. ; "There is no end of women's reasoning," 
 
 28. The narrow seas. The English Channel — a name not unfrequently 
 applied to it in that day. It occurs again iii. i. 3 below. 
 
 30. Fraught. We now w^e fraught {—freighted) only in a figurative 
 sense. Fraught is used as a noun in T. N. v. i. 64 and Oth. iii. 3. 449. 
 Freight does not occur in S. or Milton. In Temp. i. 2. 13, where many 
 modern editions have " freighting souls," the folio has " fraughting," 
 
 39. Slubber. To do carelessly or imperfectly. It also means to obscure, 
 or soil ; as in Oth, i. 3. 227 : "slubber the gloss of your new fortunes." 
 
 40. Piping. Ripeness, maturity. 
 
 42. Mind of love. That is, loving mind. Cf. " mind of honour," M.for 
 M. ii. 4. 179 (W.). 
 
 44. Ostents. Manifestations, displays. See on ii. 2, 179 above. 
 
 45. Conveniently. In its original sense, fitly, suitably. Cf, Prav. xxx, 
 8, Rofn. i. 28, Eph. v. 4. So in the one instance in which Milton uses the 
 word, S. A. 1471 : "some convenient ransom." 
 
 47. Turning his face^ etc. As Malone suggests, we have here " the 
 outline of a beautiful picture." 
 
 48, Sensible. Sensitive. Cf. L. L. L. iv. 3. 337: "Love's feeling is 
 more soft and sensible Than are the tender horns of cockled snails." 
 
 52. Quicken his embraced heaviness. Enliven the melancholy he indulges. 
 Cf. iii. 2. 109 below : " rash-embrac'd despair." 
 
 53. Do we so. 1st pers. imperative ; a form not uncommon in S. Cf. 
 Hen. V. iv, 8. 127 : " Do we all holy rites !" See also v. i. 36 below. 
 
 Scene IX. — 18. Addressed me. Prepared myself. Cf. A. W. iii. 6, 103, etc 
 Fortune noWy etc. Success now to the hope of mv heart .• 
 
 K 
 
146 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 25. By the fool multitude. For by, see on i. 2. 46 ; and for the adjective 
 fooly on i. I. 102 above. 
 
 26. Fond. Foolish ; as usually in S. Cf. Milton, S. A. 812 : ** fond 
 and reasonless ;" etc. Cf. iii. 3. 9 below. 
 
 27. The martlet. The house-martin. Cf. Macb. \. 6. 4 : ** the temple- 
 haunting martlet." See our ed. p. 174. 
 
 28. In the weather. Exposed to the weather. Cf. K. John^'w. 2. 109 : 
 *' Pour down thy weather," and Cymb. iii. 3. 64: " left me bare to weather." 
 
 31. Jump with. Agree with. Cf Rich. III. iii. i. 11 : "outward show, 
 which . . . seldom or never jumpeth with the heart." Jump also means 
 to risk, hazard, as in Macb. i. 7. 7 : "jump the life to come." See also 
 Cor. iii. I. 154. Jump is found as an adjective ( = matched, or suitable), 
 as "jump names" (B.J.) ; also as an adverb (=just, exactly), as in Ham. 
 i. I. 65 : "jump at this dead hour" (see our ed. p. 172). 
 
 40. Estates. Ranks. Cf Ham. v. i. 244 : " 't was of some estate " (that 
 is, high rank). 
 
 43. Should cover, etc. Should wear their hats, that now take them off, 
 as to superiors. 
 
 45. Peasantry. The folios have "pleasantry." 
 
 47. Ruin. Refuse, rubbish. 
 
 60. To offend, etc. That is, an offender cannot be the judge of his own 
 case. For the accent oi distinct, see on ii. 7. 51 above. 
 
 62. Fire. As often, a dissyllable. In J. C. iii. i. 171 we have it both* 
 as a monosyllable and as a dissyllable: "As fire drives out fire, so pity 
 pity." Hours is a dissyllable four times in as many lines in 3 Hen. VI. ii. 
 5. 3 1-34, and a monosyllable four lines below. Gr. 480. Cf. iii. 2. 20 below. 
 
 67. / wis. This, as Craik has shown, is a corruption of the adverbial 
 ywis (certainly), but S. no doubt regarded it as a pronoun and verb. 
 
 71. Yon are sped. Your fate is settled. Cf. "you two are sped," T. 
 of S. v. 2. 185, and "I am sped," R. aitd J. iii. i. 94. See also Lycidas, 
 122 : " What need they ? They are sped." 
 
 77. Wroth. The old eds. have "wroath." Schmidt makes it —ruth 
 (sorrow) ; but some take it to be another form of wrath, used in the 
 sense of "torturing anger." 
 
 84. My lord. Probably used jestingly in response to the my lady. So 
 in I Hen. IV. ii. 4. 317 the prince says, "How now, my lady the host- 
 ess ?" in reply to her " My lord the Prince !" In Rich. II. v. 5. 67, also, 
 a groom addresses the king, " Hail, royal prince !" and Richard replies, 
 " Thanks, noble peer !" See our ed. p. 219. 
 
 88. Sensible regreets. Tangible greetings, substantial salutations. Re- 
 greet strictly means a responsive greeting. The noun occurs again in K. 
 John, iii. I. 241. For the verb, see Rich. II. p. 162. 
 
 89. Commends. Cf Rich. II. iii. i. 38 : " I send to her my kind com- 
 mends ;" and Id. iii. 3. 126: "Speak to his gentle hearing kind com- 
 jy^ends." See also Per. ii. 2. 49. 
 
 90. Yet I have not. I have not yet. Yet—\y^ to this time, is now used 
 only after a negative, but in the Elizabethan age it was often used, as 
 here, before a negative. Cf T. of S. ind. i. 96: "For yet his honour 
 never heard a play ;" and this from Ascham's Scholemaster : " There be 
 
ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 147 
 
 that kepe them out of fier and yet was never burned " — which would be 
 nonsense nowadays. Gr. 76. 
 
 91. Likely. In the Yankee sense oi promising, Cf. 2 Hen. IV. iii. 2. 
 186: "a likely fellow !" and Id. iii. 2. 273 : "your likeliest men." 
 
 97. High-day wit. " Holiday terms," as Hotspur expresses it (i Hen, 
 IV. i. 3. 46). Cf. M. W. iii. 2. 69 : " he speaks holiday." - 
 
 99. Cttpid''s post. So below (v. i. 46) we have "there 's a post come 
 from my master." For the adverbial mannerly^ cf. Cymb. iii. 6. 92, etc. 
 
 100. Bassanio^ lord Love. May it be Bassanio, O Cupid ! 
 
 ACT in. 
 
 Scene I. — 2. // lives there unchecked. The report prevails there un- 
 contr'adicted. 
 
 3. Wracked. The only spelling in the early eds. See Rich. II. p. 177. 
 
 The Goodivins. The Goodwin Sands, off the eastern coast of Kent. 
 According to tradition, they were once an island belonging to Earl God- 
 win, which was swallowed up by the sea about A.D. iioo. 
 
 
 THE GOODWIN SANDS, DURING A STORM. 
 
 9. Knapped. Snapped, broke up. The word occurs in Ps. xlvi. 9 
 (Prayer-Book version) : " He knappeth the spear in sunder." Ginger 
 was a favourite condiment with old people. 
 
 24. The^ wings ^ etc. The boy's clothes she wore when she eloped. 
 
 1;:^. Match. Bargain, compact. Cf. Cymb. iii. 6. 30 : " 't is our match," etc. 
 
148 NOTES. 
 
 35. Smug. Spruce, trim. Cf. Lear^ iv. 6. 202 : "a smug bridegroom." 
 43. Half a million. That is, ducats. 
 
 57. It sJndl go hard, etc. I will spare no effort to outdo you in what 
 you teach me. 
 
 63. Matched. That is, matched with them, found to match them. 
 
 74 Why, so. Well, well. Cf. Rick. 11. ii. 2. "^q, etc. 
 
 100. My turquoise. The folio reads, "my Turkies." Marvellous prop- 
 erties were ascribed to this *' Turkey-stone." Its colour was said to 
 change with the health of the wearer. Cf. Ben Jonson, Seja?ius : 
 
 ** And true as Turkise in the deare lord's ring, 
 Looke well or ill with him." 
 
 And Fenton {Secret Wonders of Nature, 1569) says: "The Turkeys doth 
 move when there is any perill prepared to him that weareth it." 
 
 Scene II. — 6. Hate counsels not, etc. Hatred would prompt no such 
 feeling. 
 
 14. Beshrew. See on ii. 6. 52 above. 
 
 15. Overlook' d. Bewitched by the "evil eye." Cf. M. ^. v. 5. 87: 
 "thou wast o'erlook'd even in thy birth." 
 
 20. Though yours, not yours. The first yours is a monosyllable, the 
 second a dissyllable. See on ii. 9. 62 above. 
 
 Prove it so, etc. If it prove so (that is, that I am "not yours"), let 
 fortune, not me, bear the penalty. 
 
 22. Peize. The French peser, to weigh. Here it means to delay, as if 
 weighing each moment deliberately, or (as Steevens and others explain 
 the figure) as if the time were retarded by hanging weights to- it. S. uses 
 the word in the sense of weigh in Rich. II. v. 3. 105, and in that o{ poise 
 in K. John, ii. i. 575. Peize is intelligible enough here, but Rowe sub- 
 stituted "piece," and the Coll. MS. has "pause." 
 
 26. Then confess. Alluding to the use of the rack to extort confession. 
 
 44 A szvan-like end. Cf 0th. v. 2. 247 : " I will play the swan. And 
 die in music;" and K. John, v. 7. 21 : "this pale, faint swan, Who 
 chants a doleful hymn to his own death." 
 
 54 Presence. Dignity of mien. 
 
 55. Alcides. Laomedon, king of Troy, had offended Neptune, who 
 threatened to inundate the country unless the monarch should sacrifice 
 his daughter Hesione. Accordingly, she was fastened to a rock on the 
 seashore to become the prey of a sea-monster. Hercules rescued her, 
 not for "love," but to get possession of a pair of famous horses belong- 
 ing to the king. The story is told by Ovid, Met. xi. . 
 
 58. Dardauian wives. Trojan women. Cf He7i. V. iii. 3. 40, etc. 
 61. Live thou, I live. The ist folio gives the passage thus: 
 
 " Line thou, I line with much more dismay 
 I view the sight, then thou that mak'st the fray." 
 
 H.'s quarto and the 2d folio have "much much more dismav." 
 
 63. Fancy. Love ; as often. Cf. M. N. D. i. i. 155 : "sighs and tears, 
 poor fancy's followers." So also in compounds, as "fancy-free " {M. A\ 
 £>. ii. I. 164), "fancy-sick" {Id. iii. 2. 96), etc. The Song describes in 
 
ACT II L SCENE II 149 
 
 exquisite imagery the birth and the death of a transient affection, "engen- 
 dered in the eye," not in the heart. 
 
 74. Still. Ever. See on i. i. 17 above. 
 
 76. Seasoii'd. This carries on the metaphor suggested by tainted. 
 
 79. Approve. Justify, prove. Cf. Macb. p. 174. 
 
 81. No vice so sif/iple. So unmixed. The quartos and 1st folio have 
 *' voice ;" corrected in 2d folio. 
 
 82. Ilis outward parts. On his for its^ see Gr. 228. 
 
 84. Stairs. The folio has "stayers," which K. prints, explaining it as 
 = barriers or bulwarks. 
 
 86. Livers white as milk. See on ii. 1.6 above. 
 
 87. Excreinent. Used, as the related word excrescence still is, for a 
 superficial growth. It refers here to the beards ; as in Z. L. L. v. i. 
 109: "dally with my excrement, with my miistachio." It is also ap- 
 plied to the hair in C. of E. ii. 2. 79 and W. T. iv. 4. 734. 
 
 91. Lightest. That is, in a bad sense. Cf. below (v. i. 129), " Let me 
 give light, but let me not be light," etc. See C. of E. p. 128 (on 52). 
 
 92. Crisped. Curled. Milton {Com. 984) speaks of " crisped shades 
 and bowers," referring to the leaves waved and curled by the wind. 
 
 94 Upon supposed fairness. On the strength of their fictitious beauty. 
 The expression seems to us to be closely connected with the preceding 
 line, and not with the one before that. Wr. explains iipon as =" sur- 
 mounting." 
 
 95. The dowry, etc. S. has several times expressed his antipathy to 
 false hair. In Son?i. 68 there is a passage very similar to the one in the 
 text. See also T. of A. iv. 3. 144: "Thatch your poor thin roofs With 
 burdens of the dead." In L. L. L. iv. 3. 258 Biron says : 
 
 " O, if in black my lady's brows be deck'd. 
 It mourns that painting, and usurping hair, 
 Should ravish doters with a false aspect." 
 
 It was then comparatively a recent fashion. Stow say^s : " Women's peri- 
 wigs were first brought into England about the time of the massacre of 
 Paris" (1572). Barnaby Rich, in 1615, says of the periwig-sellers: 
 " These attire-makers within these forty years were not known by that 
 name. . . . But now they are not ashamed to set them forth upon their 
 stalls — such monstrous mop-poles of hair — so proportioned and de- 
 formed that but within these twenty or thirty years would have drawn 
 the passers-by to stand and gaze, and to wonder at them." 
 
 97. Gniled. Beguiling, deceptive. Marsh {Lect. on Eng. Lang, p. 655) 
 gives examples of "passive participles with active meaning," as well- 
 spokeity fair-spoken, etc. " W^ell read'''' is similar. See also Gr. 374. 
 
 99. An Indian beauty. This has been a great stumbling-block to the 
 critics, who have proposed "dowdy," "gipsy," "favour" ( = face), "vis- 
 age," "feature," "beldam," etc., in place oi beauty. Theo. wished to 
 punctuate thus: "Veiling an Indian; beauty, in a word," etc. As W. 
 remarks, ''''Indian is used in a derogatory sense ; and the occurrence of 
 beauteous and beauty in the same sentence is not at all unlike Shakespeare's 
 manner." 
 
 102. Hard food for Midas. An allusion to the story of Midas, king of 
 
ISO 
 
 NOTES, 
 
 Phrygia, who gained from Bacchus the power to change whatever he 
 touched to gold, and found to his sorrow that even his food was thus 
 transmuted. See Ovid, Met. xi. 
 
 I will none of thee. See on ii. 2. i88 above. 
 
 io6. Thy plainness. The folio and both quartos have " palenesse." 
 Warb. suggested the emendation, which is adopted by St., D., and W. 
 K., H., Sr., and the Camb. ed. follow the folio. The antithesis of plain- 
 tie ss and eloquence is more natural and more forcible, especially after that 
 of threatenest and promise in the preceding line. It is an objection to 
 .paleness that /^/^ has just been applied to the silver casket. 
 
 no. Green-eyed jealousy. Cf. "green-eyed monster," in 0th. iii. 3. 166. 
 On green as a complimentary epithet of ^^j", see R. and J. p. 198. 
 
 112. Nai7t thy joy. The later quartos have rei7i^ which some prefer. 
 
 115. Coiinterfeit. Portrait. Cf. T. of A. v. 1.83: "Thou draw'st a 
 counterfeit Best in all Athens." So in the Wit of a Woman (1604): 
 "the drawing of my daughter's counterfeit." 
 
 120. Hairs. Cf L. L. L. iv. 3. 142 : " her hairs were gold," etc. 
 
 126. UnfurnisJCd. Unaccompanied by the other eye, or, perhaps, by 
 the other features. 
 
 130. Continent. In its original sense oi that which contains. Cf. Ham. 
 iv. 4. 64 : " tomb enough and continent ;" and v. 2. 1 15 : " you shall find 
 \\\ him the continent of what part a gentleman would see" (that is, find 
 him containing every quality which a gentleman would desire to contem- 
 plate for imitation). In 2 Heti. IV. ii. 4. 309 (" thou globe of sinful conti- 
 nents "), some make it =that which is contained (contents) ; but see our 
 ed. p. 172. 
 
 140. / co7ne by note^ etc. " I come according to written warrant (the 
 scroll just read) to give a kiss and receive the lady" (Wr.). 
 
 141. Prize. By metonymy, for the contest. 
 145. Peals. R.'s quarto has " pearles." 
 
 156. Livings. Possessions, fortune. Cf. v. I. 260 : "you have given 
 me life and living." So in R. and J. iv. 5. 40 : " life, living, all is death's." 
 See also Mark, xii. 44, Luke^ viii. 43, xv. 12, 30, etc. 
 
 158. Sutn of nothing. This is the reading of the folio, and is more in 
 keeping with the negative characteristics which follow than "sum of 
 something," the reading of the quartos. K. and W. adopt the former; 
 the Camb. editors and H. the latter. 
 
 163. Happiest of all in. The folio and both quartos have "of all is," 
 which is retained by the Camb. editors ; but we agree with W. that 
 " there can be no reasonable doubt " that S. wrote in. 
 
 1 74. Be my vantage, etc. Be a sufficient ground for my crying out against 
 you. "Exclaim on''"' occurs also in V. and A. 930, R. of L. 741, i He7t. 
 V/. iii. 3. 60, V. 3. 134, etc. ; but in Ham. ii. 2. 367, 0th. ii. 3. 314, etc., we 
 find " exclaim against." 
 
 178. Fairly spoke. S. uses both spoke and spoken as participles. See 
 on ii. 4. 7 above. 
 
 191. iVone from me. That is, none away from me, since you have 
 enough yourselves. 
 
 195. So thou canst get. If thou canst. See Gr. 133. 
 
A CT III. SCENE /I. 151 
 
 197. As swift. The Elizabethan writers use adjectives freely as ad- 
 verbs. Cf. T, of S. ind. i. 89: "Thou didst it excellent," etc. Gr. i. 
 
 199. Intermission, Pause, delay. The pointing is Theobald's. The 
 folio reads (as do the other early eds. substantially) : . 
 "You lou'd, I lou'd for intermission, 
 No more pertaines to me my Lord then you." 
 
 Intermission is metrically five syllables. See on i. I. 8 above. 
 
 201. Caskets. R.'s quarto has " casket." 
 
 208. Achieved her mistress. S. often uses achieve in this sense. Cf. 7! 
 of S. i. I. 161 : " If 1 achieve not this young modest girl" (see 184 and 
 224 in same scene) ; Oth. ii. i. 61 : " achiev'd a maid ;" etc 
 
 212. Our feast shall be. Shall =7vill, as often. See on i. i. 116 above. 
 
 216. If thai. See on ii. 6. 55 above. 
 
 218. Very friends. True friends. Cf. R. and y.\\\. I. I15 : "My very 
 friend." See also Gen. xxvii. 21, John^ vii. 26. Very is the Yx.vrai (old 
 Fr. verai)^ from Lat. veracus, a derivative of verus. 
 
 228. Doth. Dost and doth are the established forms for the auxiliary ; 
 doest and doeth, in other cases. In old writers we find the former used 
 for the latter, as here. Cf, J. C. i. i. 8 ; " What dost thou with thy best 
 apparel on.?" 
 
 231. Estate. State, condition. Cf A. V. L. i. 2. 17, A. W. ii. 1. 122, etc. ; 
 also Gefi. xliii. 7, Ps. cxxxvi. 23, etc. On the other hand, state is some- 
 times found in the sense o{ estate. See 254 below. 
 
 235. Success. Elsewhere S. often uses this word in its old sense of 
 issue, residt. Cf A. W. v. I. 62, Oth. iii. 3. 122, Cor. i. I. 264, etc. 
 
 236. Won the fleece. Cf. i. i. 170 above. 
 
 238. Shrewd. Evil ; the original sense of the word. See J. C. p. 145. 
 
 239. Steals. Changed by Pope to "steal." See Gr. 247. 
 
 242. Constant. Steadfast, self-possessed. Cf. Tetnp. i. 2. 207 : "Who 
 was so firm, so constant," etc. 
 
 257. Mere. Absolute, thorough. See Temp. p. in, note on 51. 
 
 262. Have. All the early eds. read " Hath," which might be retained. 
 See Gr. 334. 
 
 Hit. Hit the mark, succeeded. 
 
 265. Scape. Not to be printed " 'scape." See Macb. p. 214. 
 
 267. Should appear. Would appear. See Gr. 322. 
 
 268. Discharge. Pay. Cf C. of E. iv. 4. 122 ; " I will discharge thee." 
 271. Confoniid. Destroy, ruin. Cf A. and C. iii. 2. 57 : " What wil- 
 lingly he did confound," etc. 
 
 273. Impeach the freedom of the state. Denies that strangers have equal 
 rights in Venice (Wr.). Cf , however, iv. i. 38, where Shylock says : 
 " If you deny me, let the danger light 
 Upon your charter and your city's freedom;" 
 
 as if the freedom depended upon a charter which might be revoked by 
 the power that had granted it. The thought here may be the same. 
 
 275. Magnificoes of greatest port. Grandees of highest rank. 
 
 276. Persuaded with. Used persuasion with. It is the only instance 
 in which S. joins with to this verb. 
 
 277. Envious. Malicious. So ^;/z/j' = malice, in iv. i. 10, I2i below. 
 
152 
 
 NOTF.S. 
 
 284. Deny. Forbid. Elsewhere it means refuse ; as in ii. 2. 161, etc. 
 
 288. Best-condition\i and univearied. See on ii. I. 46 above. In like 
 manner, the ending -ly is sometimes omitted in the second of a pair ot 
 adverbs. See Rich. JI. i- 3. 3 : "sprightfuUy and bold ;" Rich. III. iii.4. 
 50: "cheerfully and smooth;" 6>//z. iii. 4. 79 : "startingly and rash," 
 etc. More rarely, it is omitted in the first word ; as in B. and F., Pilgrim, 
 ii. 2 : *'poor and basely." For conditiojied, see on i. 2. 112 above. 
 
 296. Description. A quadrisyllable. See on 199 above. 
 
 297. Hair. Thjs may be a dissyllable, as Malone and others make it, 
 or, possibly, through should be thorough, as Coll. suggests. See on ii. 7. 
 42 above. 
 
 307. Cheer. In its original meaning of cotiittenance. Cf. M. N. D. iii. 
 2. 96 : *' pale of cheer," etc. It is the French cJiere, which even up to the 
 i6th century was used in the sense oi head, face. Nicot's "la chere bais- 
 see " is exactly equivalent to Milton's "drooping cheer" {P. L. vi. 496). 
 In some of the provincial dialects of France the word still retains its old 
 meaning. 
 
 312. Is forfeit. Is forfeited. So below, i v. 1.356: "thy wealth being 
 forfeit." See Gr. 342. 
 
 313. You and I. Cf. "who you shall rightly love," i. 2. 28, and "not 
 I" for "not me," in 21 above. See also Oth. iv. 2. 3 : "you have seen 
 Cassio and she together." This disregard of the inflections of pronouns 
 was common in writers of the time. See Gr. 205-216. 
 
 320. Nor rest. R's quarto has "no rest," which may be right. 
 
 Scene III. — 2. Lends. The folio reading ; "lent " in the quartos. 
 
 9. Naughty. This word was formerly used in a much stronger sense 
 than at present. In Mnch Ado, v. I. 306 the villain Borachio is called a 
 "naughty man;" and Gloster, in Lear, iii. 7. 37, when the cruel Regan 
 plucks his beard, addresses her as "Naughty lady!" Cf. Prov. vi. 12, 
 I Sam. xvii. 28, James, i. 21. See also v. i. 91 below. 
 
 Fond. Foolish ; as in ii. 9. 26 above. This appears to be the orig- 
 inal sense of the word. In Wiclif's Bible, i Cor. i. 27, we find " the 
 thingis that hen f on 7tyd ot iht world." 
 
 10. To come. That \?>,as to come. See Gr. 281. 
 
 14. Dull-eyed. Wanting in perception (as explained by Wr.), not with 
 eyes dimmed with tears, as some make it. 
 
 19. Kept. Kept company, dwelt. Cf. L. L. L. iv. i. 100, etc. 
 23. Made moan. See on i. I. 126 above. 
 
 25. Grant this forfeiiicre to hold. Allow it to hold good. 
 
 26. Deny the course of law. Interfere with it, refuse to let it take its 
 course. See on iii. 2. 284 above. 
 
 27. For the co7nmodity, etc. For if the advantages heretofore enjoyed 
 by strangers in Venice be refused them, it will seriously impeach the jus- 
 tice of the state. Capell (whom K. follows) read and pointed thus : 
 
 *'The duke cannot deny the course of law 
 For (that is» on account of) the* commodity that strangers have 
 With us in Venice : if it be denied, 
 'Twill much impeach," etc. 
 
ACT III. SCENE IV, 153 
 
 Commodity there means "traffic, commercia] intercourse." But, as W. 
 suggests, the ordinary reading is more in Shakespeare's free style than 
 such a precise passage as Capell makes of it. R.'s quarto has ^^ kis 
 state." — Thomas, in his History of Italy e (1561), has a chapter on "The 
 libertee of straungers " in Venice, in which he says : " Al men, specially 
 strangers, haue so muche libertee there, that though they speake very ill 
 by the Venetians, so they attempt nothinge in effect against thejr astate, 
 no man shall control theim for it. . . .And generally of all other thynges, 
 so thou offende no man priuately, no man shal offende the : vvhyche 
 vndoubtedly is one principall cause, that draweth so many straungers 
 thither" (Wr.). See on i. i. 178 above. 
 
 2,2, Bated. Reduced, lowered. Cf. "bated breath," i. 3.114 above. It 
 should not be printed Umted (as by K., W., H., and others;, since it is 
 not a mere metrical contraction of abated^ but a distinct word (cf. wake 
 and awake, etc.) often found in prose writers. See examples in Wb. 
 The folio has "bated" both here and in i. 3. 114. 
 
 35. F?^ay God. The subject is omitted, as even now it often is in 
 " Would to God," etc. . 
 
 Scene IV. — 2. Conceit. Conception. See Much Ado, p. 133. 
 
 6. Seitd relief. For the omission of the preposition, see on i. i. 125 above. 
 
 7. Lover. Friend. So just below, "bosom lover." Cf. J. C. iii. 2. 13 : 
 " Romans, countrymen, and lovers." See also /Ir. xxxviii. 11. The word, 
 moreover, was formerly applied to both sexes, as paramour and villaiii 
 were. Even now we say of a man and woman that they are lovers, or a 
 pair of lovers. 
 
 9. Than customary bounty, etc. " Than ordinary benevolence can con- 
 strain you to be " (Wr.). 
 
 1 1. Nor shall not. See on i. 2. 23 above. 
 
 Companions. This word was sometimes used contemptuously, a.?, fel- 
 low still is. See J. C. iv. 3. 138 : " Companion, hence !" and cf. Temp. 
 p. 131, note on Your fellow. 
 
 12. Waste. Spend. Cf. Milton {Sonnet to Mr. Lawrence)-. "Help 
 waste a sullen day ;" where, however, the idea of " killing time " is more 
 evident than here. 
 
 14. Be needs. Just below we have the more familiar needs be. For 
 needs, see on ii. 4. 29 above. 
 
 21. Cruelty. R.'s quarto has "misery." 
 
 2.^. Husbandry. Stewardship. Cf. 7". ^-^. ii. 2. 164 : " If you suspect 
 my husbandry," etc. 
 
 Manage. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 70 : "The manage of my state." The word 
 is especially used of horses ; as in i Hen. IV. ii. 3. 52 : " Speak terms of 
 manage to thy bounding steed." See also Rich. II. iii. 3. 179, A. Y. L. i. 
 I. 13, etc. 
 
 28. Contemplation. Metrically five syllables. Gr. 479. 
 
 30. Her husband, etc. An ellipsis like that in ii. 1.46 above. Gr. 397. 
 
 33. Deny this imposition. Refuse this charge laid upon you. See on 
 i. 2. 90 above. 
 
 49. Padua. The old eds. have Mantua. The triple mention of Padua 
 
154 NOTES, 
 
 as the residence of Bellario in iv. i, makes the correction here an obvious 
 one ; besides, the University of Padua was famed for its jurists (Theo.). 
 50. Cousin's hand. The word cousin in that day "seems to have been 
 used instead of our kinsman and kinswoman^ and to have supplied the 
 place of both" (Malone). CL Ham.]y. I'jg. 
 
 52. IVith imagin'd speed. With the speed of thought. Cf. Hen, V. 
 iii. chor. i : " Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies." 
 
 53. Tranect. The word occurs nowhere else. It may be a misprint 
 for " traject " (Rowe), the English equivalent of the French trajet^ Italian 
 traghetto. Coryat {^Crudities, 161 1) says: "There are in Venice thirteen 
 ferries or passages, which they commonly call Traghetti, where passen- 
 gers may be transported in a gondola to what place of the city they 
 will." K. thinks the tranect was the tow-boat of the ferry. 
 
 ^o. Convenient, Proper, suitable. See on ii. 8. 45 above. 
 
 59. Of us. That is, of our seeing them. 
 
 (ii. Accomplished. Furnished. Ci. Rich, Il.W. i, I'j'j : " Accomplish'd 
 with the number of thy hours ;" that is, when he was of thy age. See also 
 Hen. V. iv. chor. 12 : " The armourers accomplishing (that is, equipping) 
 the knights." 
 
 63. Accoutred. R.'s quarto has " apparreld." 
 
 65. Braver. Finer, more showy. Both brave and bravery are often 
 used in this sense with reference to dress, personal appearance, etc. See 
 Temp. i. 2. 6, 41 1, ii. 2. 122, iii. 2. 12, etc. Cf. also Bacon, Essay 37 : " the 
 bravery of their liveries;" and Isa. iii. 18. The Scottish b7'aw is the 
 same word. 
 
 67. Mincing. This word was not always contemptuous. In the one 
 instance in which Milton uses it {Comus, 964 : "the mincing Dryades ") 
 it appears to mean tripping lightly or gracefully. Cf. also Drayton, Pol- 
 yolb. Song 27 : " Ye maids, the hornpipe then so mincingly that tread." 
 
 69. Quaint. Ingenious, elaborate. See on ii. 4. 6 above. 
 
 72. / could not do ivithal. I could not help it. In Palgrave's Lesclair- 
 cissement de la Lang, Fr,, 1530, we find it thus explained : ^^ I can nat do 
 withall, a thyng lyeth nat in me, or I am nat in faulte that a thyng is 
 done." In Florio's Giardino di Ricreatione,, 1591, " lo non saprei farci 
 altro" is rendered "I cannot doo with all." Cf. also Shelton's Don 
 Quixote, 1620: "Why, if you do not vnderstand (said Sancho), I cannot 
 do withall." 
 
 75. That men. This omission of so before that is very common. See 
 y, C. i. I. 50 : " That Tiber trembled ;" Macb. ii. 2. 7 ; " That death and 
 nature do contend," etc. See Gr. 283. 
 
 77. Raw. Crude, or, in Yankee parlance, "green." Cf. A. Y. L. iii. 
 2.76: "Thou art raw," etc. 
 
 Jacks. A common term of contempt. See Muck Ado, v. I. 91, Rich, 
 III. i. 3. 72, A. and C. iii. 13. 93, 103, R. and J. ii. 4. 160, etc. 
 
 79. All my whole, Cf. i Hen, VI, i. i. 126; "All the whole army;" 
 Ilejt. VIII. i. I. 12 ; " All the whole time," etc. 
 
 Scene V. — 3. I fear you. That is, fear/^r you ; as in 24 below. Stee- 
 vens quotes Rich. III. i. i. 137 ; " his physicians fear him mightily." 
 
ACT ly. SCENE I. 
 
 155 
 
 4. Agitation. The clown's blunder for cogitation. 
 
 12. When I shun Scy I la, ^ic. In the Alexandreis of Philip Gaultier, 
 written in the early part of the 13th century, we find the line, " Incidis in 
 Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim," which had been often quoted and 
 translated by English writers before the time of S. The substance of the 
 line has been traced even farther back, to St. Augustine, who (/// Johaii- 
 nis Evang.) writes : "quasi fugiens Charybdim, in Scyllam incurras . . . 
 a Charybdi quidem evasisti, sed in Scyllaeis scopulis naufragisti." 
 
 .17. Enow, The plural form oi enough. Cf. iv. I. 29 below. 
 
 36. Cover, Launcelot quibbles on the two meanings of the word, to 
 lay the table and to zvear one's hat (see above, ii. 9. 43 : " how many then 
 should cover," etc.)- 
 
 38. Quarrelling with occasion. "Quibbling on every opportunity, tak- 
 ing every opportunity to make perverse replies " (Wr.). 
 
 46. Discretioit. Discrimination. 
 
 Suited. Suited to each other, arranged. 
 
 49. A many. This expression is obsolete, though we still say a fetv, 
 and many a in a distributive sense. It is occasionally used in poetry, as 
 by Gerald Massey {Love's Fairy Ring) : 
 
 "We've known a many sorrows, Sweet: 
 We 've wept a many tears." 
 
 Wr. quotes Tennyson {Miller's Daughter) : "They have not shed a 
 many tears." Cf. A. Y. L. i. i. 121, K. John, iv. 2. 199, etc. 
 
 50. Garnish'd. Furnished, equipped. 
 
 For a tricksy word, etc. For a quibbling word (or a play upon words), 
 set the meaning at defiance. Tricksy means sportive in Temp. v. i. 226 : 
 " My tricksy spirit !" 
 
 51. How cheer'st thou? Equivalent to " What clieer? How is 't with 
 you ?" in W. T. i. 2. 148. R.'s quarto has " How far'st thou ?" 
 
 52. Good sweet. No term of compliment or endearment did mpre ser- 
 vice in that day than sweet. This combination of good sweet occurs in 
 Cor. i. 3. 119, M. W. iv. 2. 189, etc. Opinion is here a quadrisyllable. 
 
 58. Mean it, then In reason, etc. The reading of R.'s quarto. H.'s 
 quarto differs from this by having " it " instead of then ; and the folio has 
 *' meane it, it Is," etc. Pope reads " merit it, In ;" and St. conjectures 
 " moan, it is In." Mean //= intend to live an upright life. 
 
 63. Pawn'd. Staked, wagered. Cf. Cor. iii. i. 15, Cymb. i. 4. 118. 
 
 70. Howsoe'er, The folio has " how som ere " — a common vulgarism 
 in that day. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene I. — 5. Uncapable. S. uses both incapable (six times) and unca- 
 pable (twice). So we find uncertain and iucertain, unconstant and incon- 
 stant, unfortunate and infortunate, ungrateful and ingrateful, etc. Gr. 442. 
 
 8. Obdurate. The accent is on the penult, as always in S. See Wore, 
 on the word. 
 
 9. And that. Here that is omitted after since, and is then inserted in 
 
156 NOTES, 
 
 the second clause without since. This is a common construction in the 
 Elizabethan writers. See Gr. 285. In most cases the subjects of the 
 clauses are different. Cf. 1\ and C. ii. 2. 177 : 
 
 "//* this law 
 Of nature be corrupted through affection, 
 And that great minds," etc. 
 
 So in Ben Jonson's Cynthia's Revels:, iii. 2 : ** Though my soul be guilty 
 and that 1 think," etc. On the use oi that with if^ simt, when, tic, see 
 on ii. 6. 55 above. 
 
 10. Envy's. See on iii. 2. 277 above. Cf. Mark, xv. 10. 
 
 18. Lead'st the fashion, etc. You keep up this show of malice only 
 until the final hour of execution. 
 
 20. Remorse. Relenting, pity. This is its usual meaning in S. See 
 K. John, ii. i. 478: "Soft petitions, pity, and remorse;" Id. iv. 3. 50: 
 "tears of soft remorse," etc. So r^w^rj-<f/}//= compassionate, and ?v- 
 /«^rj-^/^j-.i== pitiless (as at present). 
 
 21. Apparent. Here —seeming. For another sense, see Rich. II. p. 150. 
 
 22. Where. Whereas. Cf. T. G. of V. iii. i. 74 : " Where 1 thought the 
 remnant of mine age," etc. ; L. L. L. ii. i. 103 : " Where now his knowl- 
 edge must prove ignorance ;" Cor. i. 10. 13 : " Where I thought to crush 
 him," etc. On the other hand, whereas sometimes —wliere (D.), as in 
 2 Hen. VI. i. 2. 58 : " Whereas the king and queen do mean to hawk." 
 
 24. Loose. Release. This is the reading of the early eds. except the 
 4th folio, which has " lose." 
 
 26. Moiety. Portion, share (not an exact half) ; as often in S. Cf. 
 Ham. i. I. 90: "a moiety competent;" and see our ed. p. 174. 
 
 29. Royal merchant. This epithet was striking and well understood 
 in S.'s time, when Sir Thomas Gresham was honoured with the title of 
 the royal merchant, both from his wealth, and because he transacted the 
 mercantile business of Queen Elizabeth ; and at Venice the Giustiniani, 
 the Grimaldi, and others were literally "merchant princes," and known 
 as such throughout Europe. For enow, see on iii. 5. 17 above. 
 
 34. Gentle. A pun on Gentile is doubtless intended (Wr.). 
 
 35. Fossess\i. See on i. 3. 58 above. 
 
 36. Sabbath. H.'s quarto has " Sabaoth." " The same mistake occurs 
 in Bacon's Advancement of Learning, ii. 24: 'Sacred & inspired Diuin- 
 
 • itie, the Sabaoth and port of all men's labours and peregrinations.' Spen- 
 ser also confounds the signification of the two words [F. Q. viii. 2) : 
 
 " ' But thenceforth all shall rest eternally 
 
 With him that is the God of Sabaoth hight.' 
 
 Dr. Johnson, in the first edition of his Dictionary, treated Sabbath and 
 Sabaoth as identical words, and Sir Walter Scott has {/vanhoe, ch. x.), 
 * The gains of a week, aye the space between two Sabaoths.' But the 
 error has been corrected in later editions" (Wr.). 
 
 39. Vour charter. See on iii. 2. 273 above. 
 
 41. Carrion. A favourite term of contempt with S. 
 
 43. Bnt, say, it is. But suppose it is. Capell first inserted the com- 
 mas, which are required to make the sense clear. 
 
 47. Some men there are love not. For the omitted relative, see Gr. 244. 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I, 157 
 
 A gaping pig, "Editors and commentators have thought it neces- 
 sary to discuss the point whether Shylock means the gaping of a pig 
 brought to table with an apple in its mouth, or the gaping of the living, 
 squealing animal. He may have meant either " (W.). 
 
 49. Masters of passion. Agencies (such as he has been speaking of) 
 that move either the sympathy or antipathy of any man. Passion is used 
 in the original sense K^i feeling or emotion. Cf. J. C. i. 2. 48: *' I have 
 much mistook your passion," etc. 
 
 52. Abide. Bear, endure. Cf. Temp. i. 2. 360: "which good natures 
 Could not abide to be with," etc. 
 
 55. Lodged. Settled, abiding. 
 
 59. Cztrrent. Persistent course. 
 
 60. My answer. H.'s quarto has "my answers." 
 
 65. Think yon question. Consider that you are arguing with. 
 
 67. Main flood. The "ocean tide." Cf. "the flood," i. i. 10. "The main" 
 generally means the sea (as in Rich. III. i. 4. 20 : " tumbling billows of the 
 main"), but sometimes the main land. Cf. Ham. iv. 4. 15 : " the main of 
 Poland," and Lear^ iii. I. 6 : "swell the curled waters 'bove the main." 
 
 68. Yon may as zvell nse question^ etc. In the copy of H.'s quarto be- 
 longing to the Duke of Devonshire we have : 
 
 "well use question with the Woolfe, 
 the Ewe bleake tor the Lambe." 
 
 while in the copy of the same edition^ the property of the Earl of Elles- 
 mere, it is corrected to read as in the text (except that it retains " bleake"). 
 The change must have been made while the edition was printing. The 
 folio prints " Or euen as well vse question with the Wolfe," but leaves 
 the second line imperfect. 
 
 70. Pines. The quartos have "of pines." 
 
 72. Fretted. Both quartos have "fretten ;" but elsewhere S. ns,ts fretted. 
 
 74. What V harder? Thus in the quartos. The folios have "what 
 harder?" 
 
 77. IViih all brief and plain conveniency. " With such brevity and 
 directness as befits the administration of justice" (Wr.). 
 
 78. Have judgment. Receive sentence. Cf. Rich. II. iv. i. 123 : 
 "Thieves are not judg'd," etc. See also Ltike, xix. 22. 
 
 %']. Parts. Capacities, employments. 
 
 95. Dearly bought. In "dear bought" (iii. 2. 308 above) we have, as 
 often, the adjective for the adverb. 
 
 99. Upon my power. By virtue of my prerogative. 
 
 loi. Determine. Decide. The word sometimes means to put an end to^ 
 as in 2 Hen. IV. iv. 5. 82 : " Till his friend sickness hath determin'd me ;" 
 sometimes, to come to an end^ as in Cor. v. 3. 120 ; " till these wars deter- 
 mine." 
 
 117. Forfeiture. Rowe reads "forfeit." 
 
 118. Not on thy sole, btU on thy so til. Cf. the quibble in J, C. i. I. 15 : 
 "a mender of bad soles." For the sentiment, cf. 2. Hen. IV. iv. 5. 107: 
 
 "Thou hid' St a thousand daggers in thy thoughts, 
 Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart." 
 
 120. The hangman'' s axe. So in Fletcher's Prophetess, iii. 2, Dioclesian, 
 
158 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 who had stabbed Aper, is called " the hangman of Volusius Aper ;" and in 
 yacke Di'ums Entertainment (i6i6), when Brabant Junior says, " let mine 
 owne hand Be mine owne hangman," he refers to stabbing himself. In 
 the Duke of Buckingham's Rehearsal^ Bayes speaks of "a great huge 
 hangman, . . . with his sword drawn "r(D.). Cf. Much Ado, p. 143. 
 121. Envy. Malice. See on iii. 2. 277 above. . 
 
 123. Inexorable. The reading of the 3d folio; *' inexecrable " in all 
 the earlier eds. 
 
 124. For thy life. For allowing thee to live. 
 
 126. Pythagoras. The philosopher of Samos, to whom was attributed 
 the doctrine of the transmigration of souls. Cf. T. N. iv. 2. 54 : '* Clown. 
 What is the opinion of Pythagoras concerning wild-fowl t Malvolio. 
 That the soul of our grandam might haply inhabit a bird." 
 
 129. Who^ ha7ig''d, etc. See on i. 3. 127 above. 
 
 133. Starvd. The folio has "steru'd." The word is the A. S.steoifah, 
 Old Eng. sterven (frequent in Chaucer), Ger. sterben. It originally meant 
 to die, but in the latter part of the i6th century came -to be used in the 
 narrower sense of perishing with cold-^2i meaning which it still has in the 
 North of England (see also 2 Hejt. VI. iii. i. 343, etc.) — or with hunger. 
 We find the form sterve in Spenser, F. Q. ii. 6. 34, ii. 7. 57, etc. (=to die), 
 and in Shep. Kal. Feb. %t^, "starved with cold." 
 
 137. Cureless. The quarto reading ; " endless" in the folios. 
 
 143. Go give. Cf. "come view," ii. 7. 43 ; "go sleep," Rich. II. iv. i. 
 139 ; "go seek the king," Ham. ii. i. loi, etc. Gr. 349. 
 
 153. To fill up. To fulfil. 
 
 154. No impediment to let him lack. " No hindrance to his receiving " 
 (Wr.). For this peculiar form of "double negative " in S., see Schmidt, 
 p. 1420. Cf. A. V. L. p. 156, note on 12. 
 
 160. Came you. The quartos have "Come you." 
 
 162. The difference, etc. The dispute which is the subject of the pres- 
 ent trial. 
 
 164. Throughly. See on ii. 7. 42 above. 
 
 169. Such rule. Such due form. 
 
 171. Within his danger. Cf. V. and A. 639: "Come not within his 
 danger ; 7! A^. v. I. 87 : " Into the danger of this adverse town," etc. 
 
 176. // droppethy etc. As Douce suggests, S. may have h'ad in mind 
 EcclesiasticuSy xxxv. 20 : " Mercy is seasonable in the time of 'affliction, 
 as clouds of rain in the time of drought." 
 
 177. Twice blest. "Endowed with double blessing" (Wr.). 
 
 181. Shows. Represents. Cf. Rich. II. iii. 4. 42: "showing, as in a 
 model, our firm estate." 
 
 187. Show. Show itself, appear. Cf. ii. 2. 167 above. 
 
 l2>i. Seasofis. Tempers. Malone quotes ii'^w^r<2' ///. (1596) : 
 
 "And kings approach the nearest unto God 
 By giving life and safety unto men." 
 
 and Sir John Harrington's Orlando Furioso : 
 
 " This noble virtue and divine 
 Doth chiefly make a man so rare and odd, 
 As in that one he most resembleth God." • 
 
ACT IV. SCENE I. 
 
 159 
 
 191. We do pray for mercy^tic. Sir W". Blackstone considered this 
 out of character as addressed to- a Jew. S. probably had the Lord's 
 Prayer immediately in his mind, but the sentiment is also found in Ec- 
 cit'siastnus, xxviii. (K.). 
 
 195. Follow. Insist upon. For court the folios have ** course." 
 
 199. Discharge. Pay. See on iii. 2. 268 above. 
 
 201. 7wice. Some critics would change this to thrice, because we 
 have ** thrice the sum" just below. It is possible that 'twice is a mis- 
 print, as W. suggests, but we see no necessity for bringing the two pas- 
 sages into mathematical agreement. For Shakespeare's carelessness in 
 these little arithmetical matters, see C.of E. p. 148, note on 400. 
 
 205. Truth, Honesty. So " a true man " was an honest man, as op- 
 posed to a thief. See M.for M. iv. 2. 46: " Every true man's apparel 
 tits your thief;" I Hen. IV. ii. 2. 98: "the thieves have bound the true 
 men," etc. 
 
 211. Precedent. The folios have ** president." 
 
 214. A Daniel come to judgment. The allusion is to the History of Su- 
 sanna, 45 : " The Lord raised up the holy spirit of a young youth, whose 
 name was Daniel," etc. 
 
 215. How do I. The quartos have "how I do." 
 
 239. Hath full relation, etc. Clearly recognizes that this penalty (like 
 any other) should be paid. 
 
 242. More elder. Double comparatives and superlatives are common 
 in the Elizabethan writers. In S. we find "more larger" [A. and C. iii. 
 6. 76), "more better" {Temp.'i. 2. 19), "more braver" (id. i. 2. 439), "more 
 rawer" {Ham. v. 2. 129), "most boldest" {J. C. iii. i. 121), "most un- 
 kindest" (Id. iii. 2. 187), etc. See Gr. 11. In Rich. II. ii. i. 49 we find 
 "less happier," the only instance with less found in S. 
 
 245. The very words. We still use very as an adjective in this sense 
 oi exact, ox precise, though not in the sense oi true, as in iii. 2. 218 above. 
 
 246. Balance. W. says, " The plural form balances was rarely used in 
 S.'s day, if at all." We find "ballances, or a payre of ballance: libra'''' 
 in Baret's Alvearie (1580), and Cotgrave (161 1) has "balance ; a pair of 
 balances." Here, however, it may be a contracted plural. See Gr. 471. 
 
 248. On your charge. At your expense. 
 
 249. Do bleed. The folios have "should bleed," and in the next line 
 "It is so nominated," and in 254 "Come merchant." 
 
 259. Still her use. Ever her custom. See on i. i. 17 above. On use, 
 of. y. C. ii. 2. 25 : " these things are beyond all use." 
 
 263. Such misery. Wr. suggests that misery may have the accent on 
 the penult both here and in K. Johit, iii. 4 : " And buss thee as thy wife. 
 Misery's love," etc. Cf Gr. 490 (p. 390). 
 
 266. Speak me fair in death. Speak well of me when I am dead. " Ro- 
 meo that spoke him fair " (A*, and J. iii. i. 158) means " Romeo that spoke 
 to him in conciliatory terms ;" and, as Wr. remarks, this is the usual 
 meaning of the phrase. 
 
 268. A love. Cf lover in iii. 4. 17 above. D. reads " lover " here. 
 
 269. Repent not you. The quartos have "Repent but you," which the 
 Camb. ed. retains. 
 
i6o NOTES. 
 
 272. Instantly, R.'s quarto has "presently." 
 
 With all my heart, Cf. Rich, II, ii. i. 74 fol., where the dying Gaunt 
 jests on his name : 
 
 "Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old : 
 
 * # * * # 
 
 Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave," etc. ; 
 and where, in reply to Richard's question, " Can sick men play so nicely 
 with their names ?" he says : " No, misery makes sport to mock itself.'''' 
 274. Which is as dear. See on ii. 7.4 above. 
 
 286. These be. See on i. 3. 19 above. 
 
 287. Barrabas, So spelle'd in Tyndale's and Coverdale's versions. In 
 Marlowe's Jeiv of Malta the name is Barabas, not Bar abbas (Wr.). 
 
 289. Pursue, Accented on the first syllable. (Zi.pnrsnitm. So7in. 143. 4. 
 
 299. lake then. The folios read "Then take." 
 
 302. Coftf scale. Confiscated. This Latinism is most frequent in verbs 
 derived from the first conjugation (as dedicate^ consecrate, degenerate^ suffo- 
 cate, etc.), but it is found in other Latin derivatives. See Gr. 342. 
 
 318. Be it btit. The folios omit but, 
 
 319. The substance. The amount. 
 
 325. I have thee on the hip. See on i. 3. 40 above. 
 335. So taken. The folios have " taken so." 
 340. Alien. A trisyllable. See on i. i. 8 above. 
 
 343. Co)itrive. Plot. Cf. J. C. ii. 3. 16: "the fates with traitors do 
 contrive ;" and see our ed. p. 153. 
 
 359. Spirits. H.'s quarto and the folios have " spirit." 
 
 363. Which hn7nbleness, etc. Which humble entreaty on thy part may 
 induce me to commute for a fine. 
 
 364. Ay, for the state, etc. That is, the half which goes to the state 
 may be thus commuted, but not Antonio's. 
 
 374. /;/ use. In trust for Shylock, for the purpose of securing it at his 
 death to Lorenzo.- Use does not mean interest^ which Antonio has said 
 (i. 3. 55 above) that he neither gives nor takes. 
 
 380. Of all he dies possessed. See on i. I. 125 above. 
 
 389. Thou shalt. The quartos have "shalt thou." 
 
 390. Ten more. To make up a jury of twelve. This, as Malone ob- 
 serves, appears to have been an old joke. 
 
 392. Home with me. The folios have " with me home." 
 
 393. Desire your grace of pardon. Cf. M. N. D. iii. i. 185 : "desire you 
 of more acquaintance;" and 6>//^. iii. 3. 212 : "beseech you of your par- 
 don." So in Spenser, F, Q. ii. 9. 42 : *' If it be I, of pardon I you 
 pray." 
 
 397. Gratify, Recompense. Cf. Cor. ii. 2. 44; **To gratify his noble 
 service,'^' etc. 
 
 403. Cope. Reward, requite. 
 
 412. Of force. Of necessity. Perforce is still used in this sense. 
 
 Attempt. Tempt. Cf M.for M. iv. 2. 205 : "neither my coat, integ- 
 rity, nor persuasion can with ease attempt you " (Wr.). 
 
 442. Be valued 'gainst. The folios have " valued against," the quartos 
 " valew'd gainst," which requires " commandement " (the reading of both 
 
ACT V, SCENE L l6i 
 
 quartos and folio) to be a quadrisyllable. W. says that this pronuncia- 
 tion was obsolete in S.'s day; but it is required in i Hen. VJ.\, 3. 20: 
 ** From him I have express commandement." See Gr. 488. 
 
 Scene II. — 6. Upon more advice. Upon further consideration. Cf. 
 M.for M.V. 1. 469 : " after more advice ;" and Rich. J I. i. 3. 233 : " upon 
 good advice " (after due deliberation), etc. 
 
 15. Old swearing. Old in this intensive or augmentative sense is com- 
 mon in writers of the time. For other examples in S., see Macb. ii. 3. 2, 
 M. W, i. 4. 5, Much Adoy v. 2. 98, and 2 Hen. IV. ii. 4. 21. Cf. the slang 
 phrase of our day, " a high old time." The Italian vecchio, as D. remarks, 
 is (or was) used in the same sense. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. — 4. Troihis. S. in the play of Troilus and Cressida makes 
 "Cressid" the daughter of the soothsayer Calchas, but her name is not 
 found in classic fable. The allusion here is borrowed from Chaucer's 
 Troilus and Cresseide^ in which the prince is described as watching " upon 
 the walles" for Cressida's coming. 
 
 7. Thisbe. The story of the Babylonian lovers, Pyramus and Thisbe, 
 is told by Ovid, Met. iv. 55. fol. Golding's translation was published in 
 1564, but S. may have read the original. He probably drew more directly 
 from Chaucer's Legende of Goode Women, in which Thisbe, Dido, and 
 Medea are introduced one after another. 
 
 10. Dido. The picture of Dido is not in accordance with Virgil's nar- 
 rative. It may have been suggested by that of Ariadne in th^ Legende 
 of Goode Women (2187 fol.) : 
 
 "to the stronde barefote fast she went. — 
 
 Hire kerChefe on a pole styked shee, 
 
 Ascaunce that he shulde hyt wel ysee, 
 
 And hym remembre that she was behynde, 
 
 And turn agayne, and on the stronde hire fynde." 
 
 The earliest reference to the willow as a symbol of forsaken love is 
 found in a MS. collection of poems by John Heywood, about 153C See 
 Brand's Popular Antiiquities, vol. i. pp. 121-124 (Bohn's ed.). Cf. Much 
 Ado, ii. I. 194, 225, 0th. iv. 3. 28 fol., 3 Hen. VI. iii. 3. 228, etc. 
 
 11. Waft. For wafted, as in K. John, ii. I. 73 : *' Than now the English 
 bottoms have waft o'er." Theo. altered it to wav^d, which W. and many 
 other editors adopt. Cf. lift for lifted in i Hen. VI. i. i. 16, Gen. vii. 17, 
 Fs. xciii. 3, etc. Gr. 341. 
 
 13. Medea. The allusion is to the fable of her restoring ^Eson, the father 
 of Jason, to youthful vigour by her enchantments. Ovid {Met. vii.) tells 
 us that she drew blood from his veins, and supplied its place with the juice 
 of certain herbs. In Gower's Conf Am. there is a beautiful description 
 of Medea going forth at midnight to gather " the enchanted herbs :" 
 • "Thus it befell upon a night 
 
 Whann there was nought but sterre light, 
 
 L 
 
i62 NOTES. 
 
 She was vanished right as hir list, 
 That no wight but herself wist, 
 And that was at midnight tide, 
 The world was still on every side," etc. 
 
 i6. Unthrift. We have the adjective again in T. of A, iv. 3. 311, and 
 the noun in Rich. II, ii. 3. 122, So7in. 9. 9 and 13. 13. 
 
 28. Stephaiio. In the Temp, this name has the accent on the first syl- 
 lable, where it belongs. 
 
 31. Holy crosses. These are very common in Italy. Besides those in 
 churches, they mark the spots where heroes were born, where saints rest- 
 ed, where travellers died. They rise on hill-tops, and at the intersection 
 of roads ; and there is now a shrine of the Madonna del Mare in the 
 midst of the sea between Mestre and Venice, and another between Venice 
 and Palestrina, where the gondolier and mariner cross themselves in pass- 
 ing, and whose lamp nightly gleams over the waters, in moonlight and 
 storm (K.). 
 
 36. Go we in. See on ii. 8. 53 above. In " let us prepare," in the next 
 line, we have the ordinary form of the ist pers. imperative. 
 
 39. Sola^ etc. An imitation of the post-horn. 
 
 41. Master Lorenzo and Mistress Lorenzo. R.'s quarto has " M. Lorenzo, 
 M. Lorenzo ;" H.'s quarto and the ist folio, " M. Lorenzo & M. Loren- 
 zo ;" the later folios, " M. Lorenzo, and Mrs. Lorenza." The Camb. ed. 
 reads : " did you see Master Lorenzo ? Master Lorenzo, sola, sola !" 
 
 53. Music, This word sometimes meant musical instruments, or a band 
 of music. See Hen. VIII. iv. 2. 94 : " Bid the music leave ; They are 
 harsh," etc Cf. 98 below : " It is your music, madam, of the house." 
 
 56. Creep in. On in for into^ see Gr. 159. 
 
 59. Patines. The patine was the plate used for the sacramental bread, 
 and was sometimes made of gold. R.'s quarto has " pattents ;" H.'s 
 quarto and the ist folio, "pattens ;" and the 2d folio, "patterns," which 
 is adopted by some modern editors. 
 
 61. His motion. His for its ; as in 82 below. Gr. 228. 
 
 Sings. For other allusions to the "music of the spheres" in S., see 
 A. and C. v. 2. 84, T. AL iii. i. I2i, A. Y. L. ii. 7. 6, etc. 
 
 62. Cherubijts. So in both quartos and first two folios ; " cherubims " 
 in the later folios. The singular chei-ubin is found in Temp. i. 2. 152, 
 Macb. i. 7. 22, 0th. iv. 2. 63, and L. C. 319 ; cherub only in Ham. iv. 3. 50. 
 Cherubin occurs in Spenser and other poets of the time, and is used 
 even by Dryden. The French word is cherubin^ the Italian cherubino, 
 the Spanish querubift. 
 
 63. Such harmony, etc. Besides the music of the spheres, which no mor- 
 tal ear ever caught a note of, there was by some philosophers supposed to be 
 a harmony in the human soul. " Touching musical harmony," says Hook- 
 er (quoted by Farmer), "whether by instrument or by voice, it being but 
 of high and low sounds in a due proportionable disposition, such, notwith- 
 standing, is the force thereof, and so pleasing effects it hath in that very 
 part of man which is most divine, that some have been thereby induced 
 to think that the soul itself, by nature is, or hath in it, harmony." But, 
 though this harmony is within us, " this muddy vesture of decay," as the 
 poet tells us, " doth grossly close it in " so that we cann9t hear it 
 
ACT V. SCENE I. 163 
 
 72. Unhandled colts, Cf. Ariel's simile of the "unback'd colts," Temp^ 
 iv. I. 176. 
 
 77. Mutual, Common. Cf. M, N, D. iv. i. 122 : "mutual cry," etc. 
 80. Orpheus, Cf. T. G, of V. iii. 2. 78 : 
 
 "For Orpheus* lute was strung with poets* sinews, 
 Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones," etc. ; 
 
 and Hen, VIII, iii. i. 3 : 
 
 "Orpheus with his lute made trees, 
 And the mountain tops that freeze, 
 Bow themselves when he did sing." 
 
 87. Erebus, Qt J. C. ii. I. 84: ** Not Erebus itself were dim enough," 
 etc. The word, though sometimes used figuratively for the lower world 
 in general, denotes strictly " a place of nether darkness between the Earth 
 and Hades." 
 
 99. 4Vithout respect. Absolutely, without regard to circumstances. St. 
 thinks it means without attention^ and refers to the attended that follows. 
 
 103. Attended, Attended to, listened to attentively. Cf. Sonn, 102, 7 : 
 
 "As Philomel in summer's front doth sing, 
 And stops her pipe in growth of riper days ; 
 Not that the summer is less pleasant now 
 Than when her mournful hymns did hush the night. 
 But that wild music burthens every bough, 
 And sweets grown common lose their dear delight." 
 
 All the birds mentioned here — the crow, lark, cuckoo, etc. — are found in 
 Italy. 
 
 107. By season^ etc. " By fitness of occasion are adapted or qualified 
 to obtain their just appreciation, and to show their true excellence." 
 
 109. Peace, ho! The old copies have " Peace ! How the moon," etc., 
 and some of the editors prefer this reading. But, as D. remarks, " how " 
 is often the old spelling of ho! In y, C. i. 2. I we find ** Peace, ho !" 
 used, as here, to silence the music. 
 
 Endymion. A beautiful shepherd beloved by Diana. Fletcher, in 
 the Faithful Shepherdess, tells 
 
 " How the pale Phcebe, hunting in a grove, 
 First saw the boy Endymion, from whose eyes 
 She took eternal fire that never dies; 
 How she convey'd him softly in a sleep, 
 His temples bound with poppy, to the steep 
 Head of old Latmos, where she stoops each night, 
 Gilding the mountain with her brother's light, 
 To kiss her sweetest." 
 
 The fable appears in many forms in the classic writers, and has been a 
 favourite one with poets ever since. 
 
 115. Which speed. See on ii. 7. 4 above. 
 
 \2\. A tucket sounds. This stage-direction is found in the 1st folio. A 
 tucket (probably from the Italian toccata) is a fiourisl\ on a trumpet. Cf. 
 Hen, V. iv. 2. 35 : " Then let the trumpet sound The tucket-sonance," 
 
 127. We should hold day, etc. We should have day when the Antipodes 
 do, if you, Portia, would walk abroad at night. 
 
1 64 NOTES. 
 
 129. Let me give lights etc. See on iii. 2. 91 above. 
 
 132. God sort all! God dispose all things ! Cf. Rich, HI, ii. 3. 36: 
 
 " All may be well ; but if God sort it so, 
 'T is more than we deserve, or I expect.^' 
 
 136. In all sense. In all reason. 
 
 141. ' Breathing courtesy. Cf. Mach. v. 3. 27 : *' Mouth-honour, breath." 
 
 146. Poesy. The poesy ox posy (for the two words are the same), of a ring 
 was a motto or rhyme inscribed upon its inner side. The fashion of put- 
 ting such "posies "on rings prevailed from the middle of the i6th to the 
 close of the 17th centuries.* In 1624 a little book was published with 
 the quaint title, Lovers Garland, or Posies for Riiigs, Handkerchiefs^ and 
 Gloves ; and such pretty tokens, that lovers send their loves. Lyly, in his 
 Euphues, Part Second, 1597, hopes that the ladies will be favourable to his 
 work, "writing your judgments as you do the Posies in your rings, which 
 are always next to the finger, not to be scene of him that holdeth vou by 
 the hand, and yet knowne by you that weare them on your hands. The 
 Rev. Giles Moore, in his Journal, 1673-4, writes, "I bought for Ann Brett 
 a gold ring, this being the posy : When this you see, remember me.^'' Cf. 
 Ham. iii. 2. 162 : " Is this a prologue, or the poesy of a ring ?" In most 
 of the modern editions (not in K. or W.) we find "posy" in this pas- 
 sage, as well as in the M.ofV. ; but the ist folio has "Poesie" in both 
 plays. These are the only instances in which S. uses the word in this sense. 
 
 148. Leave me not. Do not part with me. Leave is used in the same 
 sense by Portia in 170 below. 
 
 i^^. Respective. Considerate, regardful. Ci. R. and y.m. i. 12Z: "re- 
 .spective lenity ;" which Malone well explains by " cool, considerate gen- 
 tleness." See also K. John, i. i. 188. 
 
 155. But well I know. Both quartos have "No, God 's my judge." 
 The change may have been made on account of the statute of James I. 
 against the use of the name of God on the stage ; but see on i. 2. 96 above. 
 
 156. On's. See Gr. 182. 
 
 160. Scrubbed. Not merely stunted, as usually explained, but rather, as 
 \V. gives it, "dwarfish and unkempt." Cotgrave {Fr. and Eng. Diet.) 
 has, " Marpaut. A71 ill favoured scrub, a little onglie or swartie wretch.^"* 
 Coles {Lat. and Eng. Diet.) translates "scrubbed" by sqiialidus. 
 
 175. Iwere best. Cf y. C. iii. 3. 13 : " truly you were best," etc. Gr. 352. 
 
 197. The virtue of the ring. The power it has; the right to me and 
 mine of which it is the pledge. See iii. 2. 171, where Portia gives the ring. 
 
 199. CoJitain. Retain ; as in Sonn. 77. 9: "what thy memory cannot 
 contain," etc. It often means restrain ; as in T. of A. ii. 2. 26 : " con- 
 tain thyself," etc. 
 
 202. Had pleas'' d to have defended. For "had pleased to defend." The 
 inaccuracy is sometimes found in good writers of our day, and has even 
 been defended by one or two grammarians. 
 . 203. Wanted. As to have wanted. 
 
 * Inscriptions on the outside of rings have been common from the old Greek and 
 Roman times. Chaucer, in Troihis and Cresseide, describes the heroine as giving her 
 lover a ring with a love-motto upon jt, and receiving one in return. 
 
ADDENDA. 
 
 165 
 
 204. Urge. Urge you to give it to him; insist upon it. Ce7'emony — 
 a sacred thing. 
 
 208. Civil doctor. Doctor of civil law\ 
 
 212. Did uphold. H.'s quarto and the folios have "had held up." 
 
 218. For^ by these ^ etc. The folios have '* And, by these." Cf. R. and 
 y. iii. 5. 9 : *' Night's candles are burnt out ;" Macb. ii. i. 5 : "There 's 
 husbandry in heaven ; Their candles are all out ;" and Fairfax's Tasso^ 
 ix. 10 : *' When heaven's small candles next shall shine " (where the 
 original has merely di nolle). See also Sonn. 21. 12. 
 
 237. Wealth. Weal, welfare. In the Litanv "wealth" is opposed to 
 "tribulation." 
 
 238. Which. That is, which loan. 
 
 239. Miscarried. Perished; as in ii. 8. 29 and iii. 2. 310 above. Cf. 
 T. N. p. 152, or 2 Hen. IV. p. 182. 
 
 241. Advisedly. Deliberately. Cf. advised in i. i. 142 and ii. 1. 42 above. 
 
 257. Richly. Richly laden. Cf. "richly left," i. i. 161 above. 
 
 260. Living. See on livings^ iii. 2. 156 above. 
 
 262. To road. To harbour. Cf. "ports, and piers, and roads," i. i. 19 
 above. 
 
 270. Satisfied of. Satisfied concerning (Gr. 174) ; that is, you wish to 
 know more about them. Atfidl=m full, fully. 
 
 272. And charge us^ etc. " In the Court of Queen's Bench, when a 
 complaint is made against a person for ' contempt,' the practice is that 
 before sentence is finally pronounced he is sent into the Crown Office, 
 and being there * charged upon interrogatories ' he is made to swear that 
 he will 'answer all things faithfully'" (Lord Campbell's Shakespeare'' s 
 Legal Acquirements). 
 
 litter gator ies. This contracted form was common in S.'s time. We 
 find it even in prose in A. W. iv. 3. 207, as printed in the early editions. 
 The full form occurs in K. Johu^ iii. i. 147. See also Cyinb. p. 223. 
 
 ADDENDA. 
 
 The "Time-Analysis" of the Play. — The Rev. N. J. Halpin, in 
 an elaborate paper published in the Transactions of the New Shakspere 
 Society^ 1875-76, pp. 388-412, makes the entire time covered by the play 
 only thirty-nine hours, which he divides into two periods, with the inter- 
 val between them, as follows : 
 
 " I. The first period ranges from the opening of the action and the 
 borrowing of Shylock's money, to the embarkation of Bassanio and his 
 suite for Belmont [10 hours]. 
 
 " 2. The second includes the time between Bassanio's arrival at Belmont 
 and his return to it, accompanied by Antonio after the trial [18 hours]. 
 
 " 3. And the interval between these two periods is concurrent with the 
 time of (he ^^«d!', whatever that may be [ii hours, or from 9 P.M. of one 
 day to 8 a.m. of the next]." 
 
 Mr. Halpin assumes that the bond is a fraudulent one, payable at sight 
 
1 66 NOTES, 
 
 or on demand^ which Shylock has substituted for the three-months bond 
 agreed upon. 
 
 In a note read before the New Shaks. Soc. Oct. 1 2th, 1877 (printed in 
 the Transactions^ 1877-79, pp. 41-57), and also in his paper "On the 
 Times or Durations of the Action of Shakspere's Plays" (same vol. of 
 Transaciio7ts^ p. 148 fol.), Mr. P. A. Daniel shows the inaccuracy of Hal- 
 pin's scheme, and sums up his own "time-analysis " thus : 
 
 " Time : eight days represented on the stage ; with intervals. Total 
 time : a period of rather more than three months. 
 Day 1. Act i. 
 
 Interval — say a week. * 
 " 2. Act II. sc. i.-vii. 
 
 Interval— ow^ day. t 
 " 3. Act II. sc. viii. and ix. 
 
 Interval — bringing the time to within a fortnight of the ma- 
 turity of the bond. 
 « 4. Act III. sc. i. 
 
 Interval — rather more than a fortnight.J 
 " 5. Act III. sc. ii.-iv. 
 " 6. Act III. sc. v., Act IV. 
 " 7 and 8. Act V.§" 
 
 Bassanio's Arrows (i. i, 140 fol.). — In the Trans, of New Shaks. Soc, 
 1877-79, p. 460, Mr. Furnivall quotes the following illustrative passage 
 from i2uips vpon Questions^ 1600 : 
 
 '-'How shall I finde it? 
 
 lie tell thee how to finde that eare againe. 
 Children, in shooting, when they loose an Arrow 
 In high growne or deepe grasse, omit no paine. 
 But with their Bowes end, rake and search it narrow, 
 
 And when they bootlesse seeke, and finde it not, 
 
 After some sorrow, this amendes is got: 
 
 * In ii. 2, we find Launcelot lamenting his hard life in Shylock's service ; he knows 
 that Bassanio gives "rare new liveries," and we may suppose that in going of errands 
 between Shylock and Bassanio he has gained his knowledge of the superior comforts to 
 be obtained in the service of the latter. He accordingly petitions to be admitted his 
 servant, and he obtains his end; for Bassanio "knows him well," and tells him that 
 this very day Shylock himself has preferred him. This fact alone shows that Shylock— 
 however inwardly he has cherished his hate — has been at least for some little time in 
 familiar intercourse with Bassanio and his friends since the signing of the bond. Mean- 
 while Bassanio has engaged his ship, and is waiting for a fair wind ; and Lorenzo has 
 been courting Jessica. Note also what Jessica says in iii. 2. 279 fol. All this supposes 
 a lapse of time— say a week — since the signing of the bond. 
 
 t For Bassanio's journey to Belmont, etc 
 
 X In iii. I, Shylock says to Tubal: " Go, Tubal, fee me an officer ; bespeak him di/ort- 
 night before." However doubtful we rnay feel as to its flight, this distinct note of time 
 leaves us no choice but to believe in an interval, between this and the preceding scenes, 
 of sufficient length to bring the three-months bond to within a fortnight of its maturity. 
 
 § After the trial Bassanio and Antonio propose to fly towards Belmont early next 
 morning. Portia and Nerissa start for home that night, and arrive on the next night 
 (Day 7) before their husbands. Act V. begins at a late hour that night, and ends two 
 hours before day (Day 8). 
 
ADDENDA, 167 
 
 An other shaft they shoote that direct way 
 As whilome they the first shot ; and be plaine 
 Twentie to one, as I haue heard some say, 
 The former Arrow may be found againe. 
 
 So, as you lost the first eare, gentle brother, 
 
 Venture the second eare, to find the tother. 
 
 Nay, soft and faire, to do that I am loth ; 
 
 So I may happen for to lose them both. 
 Q^ .. ( Better lost than found : who will beweepe thent ? 
 y^tp- y Pools hauing ear es^ yet do want wit to keepe them.'''' 
 
 A breed of barren metal (p. 136). Mr. Furnivall cites Middleton, The 
 Blacke Booke : " coming to repay both the money and the breed of it — for 
 interest may well be called the usurer's bastard," etc. 
 
 Sand-blind {\>. 138). Mr. Furnivall quotes Baret, Alvearie^ 1580: "Sand- 
 blind. Vide Bleare eied, & Poreblind " (that is, purblind) ; and " Poore- 
 blind, or that seeth dimlie . . . Qui ha conrte vetie.^^ 
 
 No master^ sir^ but a poor fnan's son (ii. 2. 43). Mr. Furnivall quotes 
 Sir Thomas Smith's Commonwealth of England (ed. 1612) : "as for gen- 
 tleme, they be made good cheap in England. For whosoeuer studieth 
 the laws of the Realm, who studieth in the Uniuersities, who professeth 
 liberall Sciences : and to be short, who can Hue idely, and without man- 
 uall labour, and will beare the port, charge and countenance of a Gentle- 
 man, hee shall bee called master^ for that is the tytle which men giue to 
 Esquires, and other Gentlemen, and shall bee taken for a Gentleman." 
 
 Cater-cousins (p. 139). W. G. S. {Trans. N'ew Shaks. Soc. 1877-79, P- 
 463) finds an instance of this word in Mabbe's Guzman de Alfarache^ 
 1623: "I was not halfe Cater-cousins with him, because by his meanes, 
 I had lost my Cloake, and sup't vpon a Mule." 
 
 Reply^ reply (iii. 2. 66). The early eds. print '''•How begot, how nour- 
 ished. Replie, replie.^"* H. (" Harvard " ed.) follows Hanmer and 
 Johnson in reading ''''Reply'''' as a stage-direction, though no other instance 
 of such use has been pointed out. As the Camb. editors remark, the 
 words " seem to be required as part of the song by the rhythm, and (if we 
 read eye with the quartos) by the rhyme also." All recent editors except 
 H. retain them in the text. 
 
 Salerio (iii. 3. 214). — It is not strange that the similarity in the names 
 SalarinOy Salanio, and Salerio caused some confusion in the prefixes to 
 the speeches in the early eds. and also here and there in the text; but 
 the modern editors have made deliberate alterations that are less excusa- 
 ble than these slips of the old printers. Several of them have changed 
 Salanio to " Solanio," though the former is the prevailing form in both 
 quartos and folios; and K. (followed by D., H., and others) assumes 
 that Salerio is a misprint for " Solanio." It happens, however, that this 
 name is given with singular uniformity in the early eds. ; and, as W. 
 remarks, "the style of Salerio's speech shows that he is a person of infe- 
 rior rank to Salarino and Salanio." No doubt some critic would be making 
 these latter two gentlemen one, if they did not several times appear on 
 the stage together. 
 
SHAKESPEARE MEMORIAL HALL, STRATFORD. 
 
INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES 
 EXPLAINED. 
 
 a (capering, etc.), 132, 140. 
 
 a' (=he), 139. 
 
 a many, 155. 
 
 abide (=bear), 157. 
 
 accomplished, 154. 
 
 achieve, 151. 
 
 address, 145. 
 
 advice, 161. 
 
 advised, 130. 
 
 advisedly, 165. 
 
 afeard, 144. 
 
 agitation (^cogitation), 155. 
 
 alablaster, 129. 
 
 alas the while ! 137. 
 
 Alcides, 138, 148. 
 
 aleven, 140. 
 
 alien (trisyllable), 160. 
 
 all my whole, 154. 
 
 an (=if ), 131. 
 
 and (==an), 131. 
 
 and so following, 134. 
 
 Andrew, 128. 
 
 angel (coin), 144. 
 
 apparent, 156. 
 
 appropriation, 131. 
 
 approve (=prove), 149. 
 
 argosy, 127. 
 
 as (omitted), 152. 
 
 as who should say, 129. 
 
 aspect (accent), 128, 137. 
 
 at full, 165. 
 
 attempt (=tempt), i6o. 
 
 attended, 163. 
 
 avail (avale), 128. 
 
 aweary, 131. 
 
 balance (plural), 159. 
 Barrabas, 160. 
 bate, 153. 
 
 be (=are), 134, 144, 160. 
 be friends with, 136. 
 bechanced, 128. 
 beefs, 136. 
 beest, 144. 
 
 beholding (=beholden), 135. 
 beshrew, 143, 148. 
 best - conditioned and un- 
 wearied, 152. 
 
 bestow, 140. 
 
 best-regarded, 137. 
 
 bid forth, 142. 
 
 Black-Monday, 142. 
 
 blest or cursed'st, 138. 
 
 bonnet, 132. 
 
 bottom, 128. 
 
 brave, 154. 
 
 break his day, 136. 
 
 break up ( = break open), 
 
 141.. 
 breed of barren metal, 136, 
 
 167. 
 Brutus' Portia, 131. 
 by (=about), 132, 146. 
 
 came by it, 127. 
 
 can, 133. 
 
 carrion (in contempt) , 1 56. 
 
 carrion death, 145. 
 
 cater-cousin, 139, 167. 
 
 cere-cloth, 144. 
 
 ceremony, 165. 
 
 Charybdis, 155. 
 
 charge upon interrogatories, 
 
 .65. 
 cheer, 152, 155, 157. 
 cherubin, 162. 
 childhood proof, 130. 
 circumstance, 130. 
 civil doctor, 165. 
 close (=secret), 143. 
 commandement, 160. 
 commends (noun), 146. 
 commodity, 131, 152. 
 companion (contemptuous), 
 
 ^53- 
 complexion (quadrisyllable), 
 
 137- . 
 compromised, 135. 
 conceit, 129, 153. 
 condition, 133. 
 confiscate (participle), 160. 
 confound, 151. 
 constant, 151. 
 contain, 164. 
 
 contemplation (metre), 153. 
 continent, 150. 
 
 contrive (=plot), 160. 
 conveniency, 157. 
 convenient, 145, 154. 
 cope, 160. 
 
 could not do withal, 154. 
 counterfeit, 150. 
 county (=count), 131. 
 courtesy, 128. 
 cousin, 154. 
 cover, 146, 155. 
 crisped, 149. 
 current, 157. 
 curtsy, 128. 
 
 danger, 158. 
 
 Daniel come to judgment, 159. 
 
 Dardanian wives, 148. 
 
 deny, 152. 
 
 description (quadrisyllable), 
 
 152. 
 desire you of pardon, 160. 
 determine, 157. 
 Dido, 161. , 
 
 disable, 144. 
 discharge, 151, 159. 
 discretion, 155. 
 distinct (accent), 146. 
 do, 127. 
 do we so, 145. 
 doit, 136. 
 doth, 151. 
 doublet, 132. 
 ducat, 133. 
 dull-eyed, 152. 
 dwell, 136. 
 
 eanling, 135. 
 Endymion, 163. 
 enow, 155. 
 envious, 151. 
 envy, 151, 156. 
 Erebus, 163. 
 estate, 146, 151. 
 exceeding (adverb), 128. 
 excess, 135. 
 exclaim on, 150. 
 excrement, 149. 
 exhibit, 141. 
 
lyo 
 
 INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 
 
 fair (play upon), 137. 
 
 faithless, 141. 
 
 fall (transitive), 135. 
 
 fancy (=love), 148. 
 
 father, 139. 
 
 fear, 137, 154, 165. 
 
 fearful, 137. 
 
 fill up (=fulfil), 158. 
 
 fill-horse, 139. 
 
 find forth, 130. 
 
 fire (dissyllable), 146. 
 
 flight (of arrow), 130. 
 
 follow (=insist upon), 159. 
 
 fond, 146, 152. 
 
 fool (adjective), 130, 146. 
 
 fool-gudgeon, 129. 
 
 for (==because), 134. 
 
 forfeit, 152. 
 
 forth, 128, 130, 142. 
 
 fraught, 145. 
 
 from (=away from), 150. 
 
 gaberdine, 135. 
 
 gaged, 130. 
 
 gaping pig, 157. 
 
 garnished, 155. 
 
 gear, 130, 140. 
 
 Gentile (play upon), 143, 156. 
 
 gHster, 145. 
 
 go give, 158. 
 
 go hard, 148. 
 
 go to, 136. 
 
 go we in, 162. 
 
 God bless the mark ! 138. 
 
 God's sonties, 139. 
 
 good, 133. 
 
 good sweet, 155. 
 
 Goodwins, 147. 
 
 gramercy, 139. 
 
 gratify, 160. 
 
 gree, 139. 
 
 guard (=trim), 140. 
 
 gudgeon, 129. 
 
 guiled, 149. 
 
 had better, 132. 
 
 had rather to, 132. 
 
 hair (dissyllable', 152^ 
 
 hairs, 150. 
 
 hangman, 157. 
 
 hard food for Midas, 149. 
 
 hear thee, 140. 
 
 high-day, 147. 
 
 his (=:its), 162. 
 
 hit, 151. 
 
 hood, 143. 
 
 hose (round), 132. 
 
 hour (dissyllable), 146. 
 
 husbandry, 153. 
 
 Hyrcanian, 144. 
 
 I (=me), 152. 
 I were best, 164.' 
 
 I wis, 146. 
 
 if that, 143, 151. 
 
 impeach the freedom of the 
 
 state, 151. 
 imposition, 132, 153. 
 in (—go in), 140. 
 in (=into), 162. 
 in all sense, 164. 
 in supposition, 134. 
 incarnation, 138. 
 Indian beauty, 149. 
 insculped, 144. 
 interest, 134. 
 
 intermission (metre), 151. 
 inter'gatories, 165. 
 
 Jacks, 154. 
 Jacob's staff, 142. 
 Janus, 128. 
 Jewess, 142. 
 judgment, 157. 
 jump, 146. 
 
 keep (=dwell), 152. 
 knap, 147. 
 knave, 137. 
 
 leave (=part with), 164. 
 
 level at, 131. 
 
 liberal, 140. 
 
 Lichas, 138. 
 
 light (play upon) 149, 164. 
 
 like (=likely), 144. 
 
 likely, 147. 
 
 liver, 129, 149. 
 
 living, 150, 165. 
 
 lodged, 156. 
 
 loose, 156. 
 
 love (=lover), 159. 
 
 lover, 153. 
 
 magnificoes, 151. 
 
 main, 157. 
 
 manage (noun), 153. 
 
 marry, 138. 
 
 martlet, 146. 
 
 master (as title), 167. 
 
 masters of passion, 157. 
 
 match, 147. 
 
 may, 133. 
 
 me (expletive), 135, 139- 
 
 Medea, 161. 
 
 mere, 151. 
 
 methought, 135. 
 
 Midas, 149. 
 
 mincing, 154. 
 
 mind of love, 145. 
 
 misbeliever, 135. 
 
 miscarried, 165. 
 
 misery (accent), 159. 
 
 mislike, 137. 
 
 moe, 130, 143. 
 
 moiety, 156. 
 
 more elder, 159. 
 
 musit (= musicians), 162. 
 
 muttons', 136. 
 
 mutual, 163. 
 
 myself (subject), 137. 
 
 narrow seas, 145. 
 
 naughty, 152. 
 
 needs, 133, 141, 159. 
 
 Nestor, 128. 
 
 nice, 137. 
 
 no impediment to let him 
 
 lack, 158. 
 nor (double negative), 131, 
 
 138. 
 nothing undervalued, 131. 
 
 obdurate (accent), 145. 
 
 obliged, 142. 
 
 obscure (accent), 144. 
 
 occasion, 130. 155. 
 
 ocean (trisyllable), I27. 
 
 o'erlooked, 148. 
 
 o'er-stare, 137. 
 
 of (=about), 135, 165. 
 
 of (=by, with), 141. 
 
 of (=for), 142. 
 
 of (omitted), 130, 160. 
 
 of force, 160. 
 
 old (intensive), 161. 
 
 on your charge, 159. 
 
 on 't, 143. 
 
 opinion (quadrisyllable), 127, 
 
 155. 
 opinion of wisdom, 129. 
 Orpheus, 163. 
 ostent, 141, 145. 
 other (plural), 128. 
 overpeer, 127. 
 over-weathered, 143. 
 
 Padua, 153. 
 
 pageant, 127. 
 
 pain (=pains), 140. 
 
 parcel, 133. 
 
 part (=depart), 145. 
 
 parts, 157. 
 
 passion, 145, 157. 
 
 patch, 142. 
 
 patine, 162. 
 
 pawned, 155. 
 
 peep through their eyes, 128. 
 
 peize, 148. 
 
 persuaded with, 151. 
 
 pied, 135. 
 
 pilled, 135. 
 
 play the fool, 129. 
 
 please (impersonal), 134, 136. 
 
 pleasure (verb), 133. 
 
 poesy, 164. 
 
 port, 130, 151. 
 
 Portia, 131. 
 
 possess, 135, 156. 
 
INDEX OF WORDS AND PHRASES EXPLAINED. 171 
 
 post, 147. 
 
 posy, 164. 
 
 prefer, 140. 
 
 presence, 148. 
 
 presently, 131. 
 
 prest, 130. 
 
 prevent, 128. 
 
 prize (=:contest), 150. 
 
 producing holy witness, 135. 
 
 proof, 130. 
 
 proper, 132. 
 
 provided of, 141. 
 
 pursue (accent), 160. 
 
 Pythagoras, 158. 
 
 quaint, 141, 154. 
 quarrelling with occasion,i55- 
 question, 156. 
 
 quicken his embraced heavi- 
 ness, 145. 
 
 rath, 132. 
 
 rather, 132. 
 
 raw, 154. 
 
 reason (=converse), 145. 
 
 regreet, 146. 
 
 remorse, 156. 
 
 reproach (play upon), 142. 
 
 respect, 129, 163. 
 
 respective, 164. 
 
 rest (set up) one's), 139. 
 
 rest you fair, 135. 
 
 Rialto, 134. 
 
 richly left, 130, 165. 
 
 ripe, 135. 
 
 npmg, 14^. 
 
 road, 165. 
 
 royal merchant, 156. 
 
 ruin (=refuse), 146. 
 
 running with thy heels, 138. 
 
 Saba9th (= Sabbath), 156. 
 
 Salerio, 167. 
 
 sand-blind, 138, 167. 
 
 scant, 137. 
 
 scape, 151. 
 
 scrubbed, 164. 
 
 Scylla, 155. 
 
 sealed under for another, 132. 
 
 season, 158. 
 
 seasoned, 149. 
 
 self (adjective), 130. 
 
 sensible, 145, 146. 
 
 shall (=will), 130, 151. 
 
 should, 130, 132, 151. 
 
 show (=appear), 158. 
 
 shows (=represents), 158. 
 
 shrewd, 151. 
 
 Sibylla, 133. 
 
 sisters three, 139. 
 
 skipping spirit, 140. 
 
 slubber, 145. 
 
 smug, 147. 
 
 so . . . as, 133. 
 
 so (=if ), 150. 
 
 so (omitted), 154. 
 
 so (=so be it), 136. 
 
 sola, 162. 
 
 something (adverb), 130. 
 
 sometime, 130. 
 
 sometimes, 130. 
 
 sonties, 139. 
 
 sooth, 127. 
 
 soothsayer, 127. 
 
 Sophy, 137. 
 
 sort (=dispose), 164. 
 
 sort (noun), 132. 
 
 soul (play upon), 157. 
 
 speak me fair, 1 59. 
 
 sped, 146. 
 
 spet, 135. 
 
 spirit (monosyllable), 140. 
 
 spoke (=: spoken), 150. 
 
 spoke us of, 141. 
 
 squander, 134. 
 
 starve, 158. 
 
 state, 151. 
 
 stead, 133. 
 
 Stephano (accent), 162. 
 
 sterve, 158. 
 
 still, r28, 130, 149, 159. 
 
 studied in a fair ostent, 141. 
 
 substance (=amount), 160. 
 
 success, 151. 
 
 suited, 132, 155. 
 
 Sultan Solyman, 137. 
 
 sum of nothing, 150. 
 
 swan-like end, 148. 
 
 sweet, 155. 
 
 swelling port, 130. 
 
 tablfe (of the hand), 140. 
 
 teaches (plural), 136. 
 
 that (with conj.), 143, 155. 
 
 the which, 133? 1 53- 
 
 thee (=thou), 140. 
 
 then (=than), 131. 
 
 therefore (position of), 129. 
 
 this (=all this), 128. 
 
 thorough (=through), 144. 
 
 throughfare, 144. 
 
 throughly, 144, 158. 
 
 thrift, 131. 
 
 throstle, 132. 
 
 to-night (=last night), 142. 
 
 too-too, 143. 
 
 tranect, 154. 
 
 Tripolis, 134. 
 
 tricksy, 155. 
 
 Troilus, 161. 
 
 truth (=honesty), 159. 
 
 tucket, 163. 
 
 turquoise, 148. 
 
 uncapable, 155. 
 undertook, 141. 
 
 undervalued, 130, 144. 
 unhandled colts, 163. 
 unthrift, 162. 
 untread again, 143. 
 upon more advice, 161. 
 upon my power, 157. 
 upon supposed fairness, 149. 
 upon the hip, 134, 160. 
 urge, 165. 
 usance, 134. 
 use, 159, 160. 
 usury, 134. 
 
 vail, 128. 
 
 vantage, 150. 
 
 vasty, 144. 
 
 venture, 128. 
 
 Venus' pigeons, 142. 
 
 very (adjective), 151, 159. 
 
 via! 138. 
 
 vild (=vile), 132. 
 
 vinegar aspect, 128. 
 
 virtue, 164. 
 
 waft (=wafted), 161. 
 waste, 153. 
 wealth, 165. 
 
 weeping philosopher, 132. 
 what (=what a), 141. 
 what (of impatience), 141. 
 where (=whereas), 156. 
 which (omitted), 131. 
 which (the), 133, 153. 
 which (=who), 144, 163. 
 whiles, 133. 
 
 who (omitted), 129, 156. 
 who (=which), 144, 158. 
 who (=whom), 131, 143. 
 who ( with supplementary 
 
 pronoun), 136. 
 why, so, 148. 
 wilful stillness, 129. 
 will, 142. 
 
 will (verb omitted), 141, 150. 
 wit, 137. 
 with all my heart (play upon), 
 
 i6o. 
 with imagined speed, 154. 
 within his danger, 158. 
 within the eye of honour, 130. 
 wives (=women), 148. 
 would, 134. 
 wracked, 147. 
 writ, 141 
 wroth, 146. 
 wry-necked fife, 142. 
 
 yeanling, 135. 
 yet (with negative), 146. 
 younger (=younker), 143. 
 yours (dissyllable), 148. 
 ywis, 146. 
 
ANNE HATHAWAY S COTTAGE AT SHOTTERY. 
 
SHAKESPEARE. 
 
 WITH NOTES BY WM. J. EOLFE, A.M. 
 
 The Merchant of Venice. 
 
 The Tempest. 
 
 Julius Caesar. 
 
 Hamlet. 
 
 As You Like It. 
 
 Henry the Fifth. 
 
 Macbeth. 
 
 Henry the Eighth. 
 
 Midsummer-Night's Dream. 
 
 Richard the Second. 
 
 Richard the Third. 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 Othello. 
 
 Twelfth Night. 
 
 The Winter's Tale. 
 
 King John. 
 
 Henry IV. Part I. 
 
 Heni7 IV. Tart II. 
 
 King Lear. 
 
 Taming of the Shrew. 
 
 All 's Well That Ends Well. 
 
 Coriolanus. 
 
 Comedy of Errors. 
 
 Cymbeline. 
 
 Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 Measure for Measure. 
 
 Two gentlemen of Verona. 
 
 Love's Labour 's Lost. 
 
 Timon of Athens. 
 
 Henry VI. Part I. 
 
 Henry VI. Part II. 
 
 Henry VI. Part III. 
 
 Troilus and Cressida. 
 
 Pericles, Prince of Tyre. 
 
 The Two Noble Kinsmen. 
 
 Poems. 
 
 Sonnets. 
 
 Illustrated. 16xM0, Cloth, 56 crs. per Vol. ; Paper, 40 cts. per Vol. 
 
 In the preparation of this edition of the English Classics it has been 
 the aim to adapt them for school and home reading, in essentially the 
 same way as Greek and Latin Classics are edited for educational pur. 
 poses. The chief requisites are a pure text (expurgated, if necessary), 
 and the notes needed for its thorough explanation and illustration. 
 
 Each of Shakespeare's plays is complete in one volume, and is pre- 
 ceded by an Introduction containing the " History of the Play," the 
 *' Sources of the Plot," and "Critical Comments on the Play." 
 
 From Horace Howard Furness, Ph.D., LL.D., Editor of the '^New Vario- 
 rum Shakefipeare.'''' 
 No one can examine these volumes and fail to be impressed with the 
 conscientious accuracy and scholarly completeness with which they are 
 edited. The educational purposes for which the notes are written Mr 
 Rolfe never loses sight of, but like "a well-expeiienc d archer liits tlie 
 mark his eye doth level at." 
 
Rolfe^s Shakespeare. 
 
 From F. J. Furnivall, Director of the New Shakspere Society^ London, 
 
 The merit I see in Mr. Rolfe's school editions of Shakspere's Plays 
 over those most widely used in England is that Mr. Rolfe edits the plays 
 as works of a poet, and not only as productions in Tudor English. Some 
 editors think that all they have to do with a play is to state its source 
 and explain its hard words and allusions ; they treat it as they would a 
 charter or a catalogue of household furniture, and then rest satisfied. 
 But Mr. Rolfe, while clearing up all verbal difficulties as carefully as any 
 Dryasdust, always adds the choicest extracts he can find, on the spirit 
 and special " note " of each play, and on the leading characteristics of its 
 chief personages. He does not leave the student without help in getting 
 at Shakspere's chief attributes, his characterization and poetic power. 
 And every practical teacher knows that while every boy can look out 
 hard words in a lexicon for himself, not one in a score can, unhelpec, 
 catch points of and realize character, and feel and express the distinctive 
 individuality of each play as a poetic creation. 
 
 From Prof. Edward Dov^den, LL.D., of the University of Dubliiiy 
 Author of ^^ Shakspere : His Mind and Art,'''* 
 
 I incline to think that no edition is likely to be so useful for school and 
 home reading as yours. Your notes contain so much accurate instruc- 
 tion, with so little that is superfluous ; you do not neglect the aesthetic 
 study of the play ; and in externals, paper, type, binding, etc, you make 
 a book "pleasant to the eyes" (as well as "to be desired to make one 
 wise ") — no small matter, I think, with young readers and with old. 
 
 From Edwin A. Abbott, M.A., Author of ^^ Shakespearian Grammar.'''' 
 I have not seen any edition that compresses so much necessary infor- 
 mation into so small a space, nor any that so completely avoids the com- 
 mon faults of commentaries on Shakespeare — needless repetition, super- 
 fluous explanation, and unscholar-like ignoring of difficulties. 
 
 From Hiram Corson, M.A., Professor of Anglo-Saxon and English 
 Literatu7'e^ Cornell University^ Ithaca^ N'. K 
 
 In the way of annotated editions of separate plays of Shakespeare, for 
 educational purposes, I know of none quite up to Rolfe's. 
 
Rolfe^s Shakespeare. 
 
 From Prof. F. J. Child, of Harvard University, 
 I read your " Merchant of Venice" with my class, and found it in every 
 respect an excellent edition. I do not agree with my friend White in the 
 opinion that Shakespeare requires but few notes — that is, if he is to be 
 thoroughly understood. Doubtless he may be enjoyed, and many a hard 
 place slid over. Your notes give all the help a young student requires, 
 and yet the reader for pleasure will easily get at just what he wants. 
 You have indeed been conscientiously concise. 
 
 Under date of July 25, 1 879, Prof. Child adds : Mr. Rolfe's editions 
 of plays of Shakespeare are very valuable and convenient books, whether 
 for a college class or for private study. I have used them with my 
 students, and I welcome every addition that is made to the series. They 
 show care, research, and good judgment, and are fully up to the time in 
 scholarship. I fully agree with the opinion that experienced teachers 
 have expressed of the excellence of these books. 
 
 ■ From Rev. A. P. Peabody, D.D., Professor in Harvard University. 
 
 I regard your own work as of the highest merit, while you have turned 
 the labors of others to the best possible account. I want to have the 
 higher classes of our schools introduced to Shakespeare chief of all, and 
 then to other standard English authors ; but this cannot be done to ad- 
 vantage, unless under a teacher of equally rare gifts and abundant leisure, 
 or through editions specially prepared for such use. I trust that you 
 will have the requisite encouragement to proceed with a work so hap- 
 pily begun. 
 
 From the Examiner and Chronicle^ N. Y. 
 
 We repeat what we have often said, that there is no edition of Shake- 
 speare's which seems to us preferable to Mr. Rolfe's. As mere specimens 
 of the printer's and binder's art they are unexcelled, and their other 
 merits are equally high. Mr. Rolfe, having learned by the practical ex- 
 perience of the class-room what aid the average student really needs in 
 order to read Shakespeare intelligently, has put just that amount of aid 
 into his notes, and no more. Having said what needs to be said, he stopt 
 there. It is a rare virtue in the editor of a classic, and we are propor- 
 tionately grateful for it. 
 
Rolfe's Shakespeare. 
 
 From the N. V. Times, 
 
 This work has been done so well that it could hardly have been done 
 better. It shows throughout knowledge, taste, discriminating judgment, 
 and, what is rarer and of yet higher value, a sympathetic appreciation of 
 the poet's moods and purposes. 
 
 From the Pacific School yountal^ San Fraticisco. 
 This edition of Shakespeare's plays bids fair to be the most valuable 
 aid to the study of English literature yet published. For educational pur- 
 poses it is beyond praise. Each of the plays is printed in large clear type 
 and on excellent paper. Every difficulty of the text is clearly explained 
 by copious notes. It is remarkable how many new beauties one may dis- 
 cern in Shakespeare with the aid of the glossaries attached to these books. 
 . . . Teachers can do no higher, better work than to inculcate a love 
 for the best literature, and such books as these will best aid them in 
 cultivating a pure and refined taste. 
 
 F7'om the Christia^t Union^ N. V. 
 
 Mr. W, J. Rolfe's capital edition of Shakespeare — by far the best edi- 
 tion for school and parlor use. We speak after some practical use of it 
 in a village Shakespeare Club. The notes are brief but useful ; and the 
 necessary expurgations are managed with discriminating skill. 
 
 From the Academy^ London. 
 Mr. Rolfe's excellent series of school-editions of the Plays of Shake- 
 speare. . . . Mr. Rolfe's editions differ from some of the English ones 
 in looking on the plays as sotilething more than word-puzzles. They give 
 the student helps and hints on the characters and meanings of the plays, 
 while the word-notes are also full and posted up to the latest date. . . . 
 Mr. Rolfe also adds to each of his books a most useful " Index of Words 
 and Phrases explained." 
 
 Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
 Any of the cibove works ivill be sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of tJte 
 United States, on receipt of the price. 
 

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