The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [Vol. 2 of 9]

Por. Inquire the Jew’s house out, give him this deed

And let him sign it: we’ll away to-night

And be a day before our husbands home:

This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.

Enter Gratiano.

005 Gra. Fair sir, you are well o’erta’en:

My Lord Bassanio upon more advice

Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat

Your company at dinner.

That cannot be:

009 His ring I do accept most thankfully:

010 And so, I pray you, tell him: furthermore,

I pray you, show my youth old Shylock’s house.

Gra. That will I do.

Sir, I would speak with you.

I’ll see if I can get my husband’s ring, [Aside to Portia.

Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.

015 Por. [Aside to Ner.] Thou mayst, I warrant. We shall have old swearing

That they did give the rings away to men;

But we’ll outface them, and outswear them too.

[Aloud] Away! make haste: thou know’st where I will tarry.

Ner. Come, good sir, will you show me to this house? [Exeunt.

001 Lor. The moon shines bright: in such a night as this,

When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees

And they did make no noise, in such a night

004 Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls,

005 And sigh’d his soul toward the Grecian tents,

006 Where Cressid lay that night.

In such a night

Did Thisbe fearfully o’ertrip the dew,

And saw the lion’s shadow ere himself.

And ran dismay’d away.

In such a night

010 Stood Dido with a willow in her hand

011 Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love

To come again to Carthage.

In such a night

Medea gather’d the enchanted herbs

That did renew old Æson.

In such a night

015 Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew

And with an unthrift love did run from Venice

As far as Belmont.

017 In such a night

Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well,

Stealing her soul with many vows of faith

And ne’er a true one.

020 In such a night

021 Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,

Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

Jes. I would out-night you, did no body come;

But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter Stephano.

025 Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?

Steph. A friend.

Lor. A friend! what friend? your name, I pray you, friend?

Steph. Stephano is my name; and I bring word

My mistress will before the break of day

030 Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about

By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays

032 For happy wedlock hours.

Who comes with her?

Steph. None but a holy hermit and her maid.

034 I pray you, is my master yet return’d?

035 Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him.

But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,

037 And ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

Enter Launcelot.

Laun. Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!

040 Lor. Who calls?

041 Laun. Sola! did you see Master Lorenzo? Master Lorenzo, sola, sola!

Lor. Leave hollaing, man: here.

Laun. Sola! where? where?

045 Lor. Here.

Laun. 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.

049 Lor. Sweet soul, let’s in, and there expect their coming.

050 And yet no matter: why should we go in?

051 My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,

Within the house, your mistress is at hand;

053 And bring your music forth into the air. [Exit Stephano.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!

055 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

059 Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:

060 There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st

But in his motion like an angel sings,

062 Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;

063 Such harmony is in immortal souls;

But whilst this muddy vesture of decay

065 Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

Enter Musicians.

066 Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn!

With sweetest touches pierce your mistress’ ear,

068 And draw her home with music. [Music.

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

070 Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive:

For do but note a wild and wanton herd,

Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,

Which is the hot condition of their blood;

075 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

079 By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet

080 Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods;

Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage,

082 But music for the time doth change his nature.

The man that hath no music in himself,

Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,

085 Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,

087 And his affections dark as Erebus:

Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.

Enter Portia and Nerissa.

Por. That light we see is burning in my hall.

090 How far that little candle throws his beams!

So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

092 Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.

Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less:

A substitute shines brightly as a king,

095 Until a king be by; and then his state

Empties itself, as doth an inland brook

Into the main of waters. Music! hark!

098 Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house.

Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect:

100 Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.

101 Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.

Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,

When neither is attended; and I think

The nightingale, if she should sing by day,

105 When every goose is cackling, would be thought

106 No better a musician than the wren.

How many things by season season’d are

To their right praise and true perfection!

109 Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion,

110 And would not be awaked. [Music ceases.

110 That is the voice,

Or I am much deceived, of Portia.

112 Por. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo,

By the bad voice.

Dear lady, welcome home.

114 Por. We have been praying for our husbands’ healths,

115 Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.

Are they return’d?

Madam, they are not yet;

But there is come a messenger before,

To signify their coming.

Go in, Nerissa;

Give order to my servants that they take

120 No note at all of our being absent hence;

121 Nor you, Lorenzo; Jessica, nor you. [A tucket sounds.

122 Lor. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet:

We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not.

Por. This night methinks is but the daylight sick;

125 It looks a little paler: ’tis a day,

Such as the day is when the sun is hid.

Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their followers.

Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes,

If you would walk in absence of the sun.

Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light;

130 For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,

131 And never be Bassanio so for me:

132 But God sort all! You are welcome home, my lord.

Bass. I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend.

This is the man, this is Antonio,

135 To whom I am so infinitely bound.

Por. You should in all sense be much bound to him,

For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.

Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of.

Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house:

140 It must appear in other ways than words,

Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.

Gra. [To Nerissa] By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong;

In faith, I gave it to the judge’s clerk:

Would he were gelt that had it, for my part,

145 Since you do take it, love, so much at heart.

Por. A quarrel, ho, already! what’s the matter?

Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring

148 That she did give me, whose posy was

For all the world like cutler’s poetry

150 Upon a knife, ‘Love me, and leave me not.’

Ner. What talk you of the posy or the value?

152 You swore to me, when I did give it you,

153 That you would wear it till your hour of death,

And that it should lie with you in your grave:

155 Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths,

You should have been respective, and have kept it.

157 Gave it a judge’s clerk! no, God’s my judge,

158 The clerk will ne’er wear hair on’s face that had it.

Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man.

160 Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man.

Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,

162 A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy,

No higher than thyself, the judge’s clerk,

A prating boy, that begg’d it as a fee:

165 I could not for my heart deny it him.

166 Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you,

To part so slightly with your wife’s first gift;

A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger

169 And so riveted with faith unto your flesh.

170 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

Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth

That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano,

175 You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief:

An ’twere to me, I should be mad at it.

Bass. [Aside] 177 Why, I were best to cut my left hand off,

And swear I lost the ring defending it.

Gra. My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away

180 Unto the judge that begg’d it and indeed

Deserved it too; and then the boy, his clerk,

That took some pains in writing, he begg’d mine;

And neither man nor master would take aught

But the two rings.

What ring gave you, my lord?

185 Not that, I hope, which you received of me.

Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault,

I would deny it; but you see my finger

Hath not the ring upon it, it is gone.

189 Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth.

190 By heaven, I will ne’er come in your bed

Until I see the ring.

Nor I in yours

Till I again see mine.

Sweet Portia,

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,

If you did know for whom I gave the ring,

195 And would conceive for what I gave the ring,

And how unwillingly I left the ring,

When nought would be accepted but the ring,

You would abate the strength of your displeasure.

Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,

200 Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,

201 Or your own honour to contain the ring,

You would not then have parted with the ring.

What man is there so much unreasonable,

If you had pleased to have defended it

205 With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty

To urge the thing held as a ceremony?

Nerissa teaches me what to believe:

I’ll die for’t but some woman had the ring.

209 Bass. No, by my honour, madam, by my soul,

210 No woman had it, but a civil doctor,

211 Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,

And begg’d the ring; the which I did deny him,

213 And suffered him to go displeased away;

214 Even he that did uphold the very life

215 Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady;

I was enforced to send it after him;

I was beset with shame and courtesy;

My honour would not let ingratitude

So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady;

220 For, by these blessed candles of the night,

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

222 The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.

Por. Let not that doctor e’er come near my house:

Since he hath got the jewel that I loved,

225 And that which you did swear to keep for me,

I will become as liberal as you;

I’ll not deny him any thing I have,

No, not my body nor my husband’s bed:

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

230 Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus:

If you do not, if I be left alone,

Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own,

233 I’ll have that doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advised

235 How you do leave me to mine own protection.

Gra. Well, do you so: let not me take him, then;

For if I do, I’ll mar the young clerk’s pen.

Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels.

239 Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwithstanding.

240 Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong;

And, in the hearing of these many friends,

I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes,

Wherein I see myself,—

Mark you but that!

244 In both my eyes he doubly sees himself;

245 In each eye, one: swear by your double self,

And there’s an oath of credit.

Nay, but hear me:

Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear

I never more will break an oath with thee.

249 Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth;

250 Which, but for him that had your husband’s ring,

Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again,

My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord

Will never more break faith advisedly.

Por. Then you shall be his surety. Give him this,

255 And bid him keep it better than the other.

Ant. Here, Lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring.

Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor!

258 Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio;

For, by this ring, the doctor lay with me.

260 Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano;

For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor’s clerk,

262 In lieu of this last night did lie with me.

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways

264 In summer, where the ways are fair enough:

265 What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserved it?

Por. Speak not so grossly. You are all amazed:

Here is a letter; read it at your leisure;

It comes from Padua, from Bellario:

There you shall find that Portia was the doctor,

270 Nerissa there her clerk: Lorenzo here

Shall witness I set forth as soon as you,

272 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

275 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.

I am dumb.

280 Bass. Were you the doctor and I knew you not?

Gra. Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold?

Ner. Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it,

Unless he live until he be a man.

Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow:

285 When I am absent, then lie with my wife.

Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life and living;

For here I read for certain that my ships

288 Are safely come to road.

How now, Lorenzo!

My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.

290 Ner. Ay, and I’ll give them him without a fee.

There do I give to you and Jessica,

From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,

After his death, of all he dies possess’d of.

Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way

Of starved people.

295 It is almost morning,

And yet I am sure you are not satisfied

297 Of these events at full. Let us go in;

298 And charge us there upon inter’gatories,

And we will answer all things faithfully.

300 Gra. Let it be so: the first inter’gatory

That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is,

Whether till the next night she had rather stay,

303 Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:

But were the day come, I should wish it dark,

305 That I were couching with the doctor’s clerk.

Well, while I live I’ll fear no other thing

So sore as keeping safe Nerissa’s ring. [Exeunt.