Usurer!
Usurer!
"If a man is righteous,
and does what is lawful and right,
"if he has not exacted usury
nor taken any increase
"but has withdrawn his hand
from all iniquity
"and executed true judgment
between men and men,
"if he has walked in my statutes
"and kept my judgment faithfully,
then he is just and he shall surely live.
"But if he has exacted usury
and taken increase,
"shall he then live?
"No, he shall not live. If he has
done any of these abominations..."
"...he shall surely die, says the Lord."
And yet you live
by theft and robbery...
Antonio.
Antonio.
Bassanio.
Wind's coming back, sir.
Signior Lorenzo.
Jessica.
In truth,
I know not why I am so sad.
It wearies me. You say it wearies you.
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me
that I have much ado than know myself.
Your mind is tossing on the ocean.
Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
the better part of my affection
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 fear
misfortune to my ventures
out of doubt would make me sad.
My wind, cooling my broth,
would blow me to a fever if I thought what
harm a wind too great might do at sea.
Believe me, no.
Why, then you're in love.
Fie, fie, fie!
Not in love either?
Then let us say you are sad
because you are not merry.
Here comes my lord Bassanio.
- Good morrow, my good lord.
- Good signiors. When shall we laugh?
We shall make our leisures
to fit in with yours.
- Bassanio.
- Signior.
My lord Bassanio, since you have found
Antonio, we too will leave you.
You look not well, Signior Antonio.
You have too much respect
upon the world.
They lose it that do buy it with much care.
I hold the world but
as the world, Gratiano -
a stage where every man
must play his part, and mine a sad one.
Come, good Lorenzo.
Fare thee well awhile.
I'll end my exhortation after dinner.
Fare thee well.
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing,
more than any man in all of Venice.
Well?
Tell me now...
that which today
you promised to tell me of.
'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
how much I have disabled mine estate,
but my chief care is to come
squarely out of the great debts
wherein my youth, something too prodigal,
has left me pledged.
To you, Antonio,
I owe the most in money and in love,
and from your love I have a warranty
to unburden all my plots and purposes
how to get clear of all the debts I owe.
Pray, good Bassanio, let me know it.
And, if it stand, as you yourself still do,
within the eye of honour,
be assured my purse, my person,
my extremest means
lie all unlocked to your occasion.
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, no less a beauty
than 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.
O my Antonio,
had I but the means
to hold a rival place with one of them
then I should questionless be fortunate.
Thou knowest my fortunes are at sea.
Neither have I money nor commodity
to raise a present sum.
Therefore, go forth.
Try what my credit can in Venice do.
It shall be racked, even to the uttermost,
to furnish you to Belmont,
and fair Portia.
I swear to you, Nerissa,
- I am more weary of this great world.
- You would be, sweet madam,
if your miseries were as plentiful
as your good fortunes are.
And yet, from what I see,
they are as sick that have it in excess
as those that starve with nothing.
If doing were as easy
as knowing what were good to do,
chapels had been churches,
and poor men's cottages princes' palaces.
But this reasoning is
not in the way to choose me a husband.
O me, the word "choose"!
I may neither choose who I would
nor refuse who I dislike.
So is the will of a living daughter
ruled by a dead father.
Is it not hard, Nerissa,
that I cannot choose one nor refuse none?
Your father was always virtuous,
and holy men, at their death,
have good inspirations.
Therefore the lottery, that he devised
in these three chests
of gold and silver and lead,
so that who chooses his meaning
chooses you,
will no doubt only be guessed, rightly,
by someone who you shall rightly love.
Right.
What warmth is there
in your affection
towards any of these princely suitors
that are already come?
Pray name them, and
as you name them I will describe them,
and, according
to my description, level at my affection.
How say you of the French lord,
Monsieur Le Bon?
Oh, God.
God made him,
and therefore let him pass for a man.
I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he...!
What say you to Falconbridge,
the young baron of England?
How oddly he's suited!
And the Duke of Saxony's nephew?
Very vilely in the morning
when he is sober,
and most vilely in the afternoon
when he is drunk.
O Nerissa!
Wait! Wait.
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.
Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee,
set a deep glass of Rhenish wine
on the contrary casket.
I will do anything, Nerissa,
ere I will be married to a sponge.
Three thousand ducats.
Well.
Ay, sir, for three months.
For three months?
- Well...
- For which, as I told you,
Antonio shall be bound.
Antonio shall be bound?
Well...
May you help me? Will you pleasure me?
Should I know your answer?
Three thousand ducats for three months,
and Antonio bound.
Your answer to that.
Antonio is a good man.
Have you heard any imputation
to the contrary?
No. No, no, no, no. My meaning
in saying that he is a good man
is to have you understand
that he is of good credit.
Yet his means are in question.
He hath a ship bound for Tripolis,
another to the Indies.
I understand moreover, upon the Rialto,
he hath a third ship at Mexico,
a fourth for England,
and other ventures
he hath squandered abroad.
But ships are but boards,
sailors are but men,
there be land rats and water rats,
water thieves and land thieves.
I mean pirates.
Then there is the peril of waters,
winds and rocks.
The man is, notwithstanding,
of good credit.
Three thousand ducats.
I think I may take his bond.
- Be assured you may.
- May I speak with Antonio?
If it please you, dine with us.
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, walk
with you, talk with you, and so following,
but I will not eat with you,
nor drink with you,
nor pray with you.
Who is he comes here?
This is Signior Antonio. Antonio!
Antonio.
How like a fawning publican he looks.
Shylock! Shylock, do you hear?
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.
But Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
will furnish me.
Benjamin. Go, seek out Tubal.
But soft, how many months?
Rest you fair, good signior.
Your worship was the last man
in our mouths.
- Is he possessed how much you would?
- Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
And for three months.
Ah, I forgot. Three months, you told me so.
But soft, erm... me thought you said
you neither lend nor borrow with interest.
- I do never use it.
- Well.
Three thousand ducats,
'tis a good round sum.
Launcelot.
The rates.
Three months... from twelve.
Let me see the rate.
Well, Shylock,
shall we be beholden to you?
Signior Antonio...
many a time, and oft in the Rialto,
you have reviled me
about my moneys and my usances.
Still, I have borne it with a patient shrug,
for sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
You call me misbeliever,
cut-throat dog,
and spit upon my Jewish gaberdine.
And all for use of that which is my own.
Well, it now appears you need my help.
You come to me and you say,
"Shylock, we would have money."
You say so. You, that did void
your rheum upon my beard
and kick me as you spurn a stranger cur
over your threshold.
Money is your suit.
What should I say to you?
Should I not say, "Hath a dog money?
"Is it possible a cur can lend
three thousand ducats?"
Or shall I bend low
and, in a slavish voice, with bated breath
and whispering humbleness say this -
"Fair sir, you spat on me
on Wednesday last,
"you spurned me such a day,
another time you called me dog.
"For these courtesies,
I'll lend you thus much moneys."
I'm as like to call you so again,
to spit on you again, to spurn you too.
If you would lend this money,
lend it not unto your friends.
For when did friendship take
a breed for barren metal from his friends?
Lend it rather to your enemy who,
if he break,
you may with better face exact the penalty.
Why, look how you storm.
I would be friends with you
and have your love.
Forget the stains
that you have shamed me with.
Supply your present wants, and take not
a drop of interest for my moneys...
...and you'll not hear me.
This is kind I offer.
- This is kindness.
- No...
This kindness I will show.
Go with me to a notary
and 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 a sum or sums
as are expressed in the condition,
let the forfeit be nominated...
for an equal pound of your fair flesh
to be cut off and taken
in what part of your body pleaseth me.
Content, i'faith.
I'll seal to such a bond,
and say there is much kindness in the Jew.
You shall not seal such a bond for me.
I'd rather live in my necessity.
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.
O father Abraham,
what these Christians are,
whose own hard dealings teaches them
suspect the thoughts of others.
I pray you, tell me this.
If he should break his day, what should
I gain by the exaction of the forfeiture?
A pound of a 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.
Shylock...
I will seal unto this bond.
Dislike me not for my complexion,
the shadowed livery of the burnished sun,
to whom I am a neighbour and near bred.
Yallah! Yallah!
Bring me the fairest creature
northward born,
where the sun's 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 feared the valiant.
Yea, by my love I swear, the most regarded
virgins of our clime have loved it too.
I would not change this hue, except
to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
In terms of choice, I am not solely led
by nice direction of a maiden's eyes.
Instead, the lottery of my destiny bars me
the right of voluntary choosing.
But if my father had not restrained me,
and hedged me by his wit
to yield myself as wife
to him who wins me
by that means I told you,
yourself, renowned prince,
then stood as fair as... any comer
I have looked on yet for my affection.
Even for that, I thank you.
Therefore, I pray you, lead me
to the caskets to try my fortune.
Yes?
I pray you, Leonardo, these
things being bought and orderly bestowed,
return in haste, for I do feast tonight
my best esteemed acquaintance.
Let supper be ready
at the latest by nine o'clock.
See that these letters are delivered.
And put the livery to the making.
Certainly my conscience would forbid me
to run from this Jew, my master.
Ho!
I pray you, which way to the master Jew's?
Do you not know me, Father?
Lord, how art thou changed!
How dost thou and thy master agree?
I brought him a present.
Famished in his service, Father.
I'm glad you've come.
Give your present to one master Bassanio,
who indeed gives rare new liveries.
Si.
Bassanio!
Bassanio!
- Gratiano.
- I have a suit to you.
- You have obtained it.
- You must not deny me -
I must go with you to Belmont.
Why, then you must. But hear thee, you are
too wild, too rude, too bold of voice,
things that become you happily enough
and in such eyes as ours appears not false.
But where you are not known, why,
there they show something too... liberal.
Pray you, take pain to dilute with some
cold drops of modesty your skipping spirit,
lest through your wild behaviour
I be misconstrued in the place I go
and lose my hopes.
Signior Bassanio, hear me.
If I do not put on a sober habit, talk with
respect, and swear but now and then,
look demurely,
nay more, while grace is saying,
hood mine eyes thus with my hat
and sigh and say, "Amen,"
never trust me more.
Well, we shall see your bearing.
Oof!
Nay, but I bar tonight.
You shall not gauge me
by what we do tonight.
God bless your worship.
Signior Bassanio.
Many thanks.
Would you something from me?
- Here is my son, sir, a poor boy.
- Not a poor boy, sir,
but the rich Jew's man that would, sir,
as my father shall specify.
He hath a great infection, sir,
as one would say, to serve.
Indeed, sir. The short and the long is,
I serve the Jew, and have a desire,
as my father shall specify.
To be brief, the very truth is, as my father,
being an old man, shall fruitify unto you...
I have here a dish of doves
I would bestow upon your worship.
And my suit is...
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.
One speak for both. What would you?
- Serve you, sir.
- That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
You have obtained your suit,
if it be preferment
to leave a rich Jew's service
to become the follower
of so poor a gentleman.
The old proverb is very well parted
between my master Shylock and you, sir.
You have the grace of God, sir,
and he has enough.
You speak it well. Give him a livery more
guarded than his fellows'. See it done.
I'm sorry you will leave my father so.
Our house is hell, and you, a merry devil,
did rob it of some taste of tediousness.
And Launcelot, soon at supper
shall you 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 talk with thee.
Adieu.
Tears exhibit my tongue.
Most beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew.
O Lorenzo, if thou keep promise,
I shall end this strife,
becoming Christian and your loving wife.
Jessica?
Well.
You will see, your eyes will be the judge,
the difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.
You will not gourmandise with him,
as you have done with me,
nor sleep and snore and wear apparel out.
Not with him.
- Jessica, I say!
- Why, Jessica.
Who bids you call?
I do not bid you call.
Your worship was used to say
I could do nothing without bidding.
Oh.
Call you?
- What's your will?
- I am bid forth to supper, Jessica.
There are my keys.
Wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love.
Oh, they flatter me.
Yet I will go and feed
upon the prodigal Christian.
Jessica, my girl, look to my house.
Oh, I am right loath to go.
There is some ill a-brewing
towards my rest,
for I did dream of money bags tonight.
I beseech you, sir, go.
My young master expects your reproach.
And so do I his.
And they have conspired together.
I will not say you shall see a masque,
but if you do, it was not for nothing
that my nose fell a-bleeding
on Black Monday last
at six o'clock in the morning.
What, are there masques?
Hear you me, Jessica,
clamber not you up to the casements then,
nor thrust your head into the public street
to gaze on Christian fools
with varnished faces.
Let not the sound of shallow foppery
enter my sober house.
Oh, by Jacob's staff, I swear I have
no mind of feasting forth tonight.
But I will go.
Go you before, sirrah. Say I will come.
I will go before, sir.
Mistress, look out the window for all this.
There will come a Christian boy
will be worth a Jewess' eye.
What says that fool
of Hagar's offspring, ha?
His words were, "Farewell, mistress."
Nothing else.
The fool is kind enough
but a huge feeder.
Snail-slow in profit,
and he sleeps by day more than a tomcat.
Therefore, I part with him.
Well, Jessica, go in.
Perhaps I will return immediately.
Do as I bid you.
Farewell.
And if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost.
How do I know if I do choose the right?
The one of them
contains my picture, Prince.
If you choose that, then I am yours withal.
Some god direct my judgment!
Let me see.
"Who chooseth me
must give and hazard all he hath."
- Hmm...
- Must give? For what?
For lead? Hazard for lead?
This casket, my friends, threatens.
Men who hazard all
do it in hope of fair advantages.
A golden mind stoops not
to shows of dross, eh?
I'll then nor give nor hazard
aught for lead, ah? Mm-mm.
What says the silver with her virgin hue?
"Who chooseth me...
"shall gain as much as he deserves."
Pause there, Morocco,
and weigh thy value
with an even hand, ha?
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
and in graces, and in qualities of breeding!
What if I stray no further but choose here?
Hmm...
"Who chooseth me...
"will gain what many men...
"desire."
- Hmm...
- Huh?
Why, that's the lady!
All of the world desires her!
From the four corners of the earth,
they come to kiss this shrine,
this mortal-breathing saint.
Deliver me the key.
Here do I choose, and thrive as I may.
There, take it, Prince.
And if my form lie there, I am yours.
Ha!
O hell.
What have we here?
"All that glistens is not gold.
"Often have you heard that told.
"Gilded tombs do worms enfold.
"Fare you well...
"but your suit is cold."
For all of my fortune, Shylock,
I give thanks.
To best-esteemed acquaintances.
Antonio, good health.
I know the hand. In faith, it is a fair hand,
and whiter than the paper it writ on
is the fair hand that writ.
Love-news, in faith.
Meet me tonight.
This is the penthouse under which
Lorenzo desired us to make stand?
His hour is almost past.
And it is a marvel he outstays his hour
for lovers always run before the clock.
That ever holds.
Who rises from a feast with
that keen appetite that he sits down?
Sweet friends,
your patience for my long delay.
Ho! Who's within?
Who are you?
Tell me for more certainty,
albeit I swear that I do know your tongue.
Lorenzo and thy love.
Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed,
for who I love so much?
And now who knows but you, Lorenzo,
whether I am yours?
Heaven and thy thoughts are witness
that thou art.
Here! Catch this casket.
No!
It is worth the pains.
I'm glad 'tis night. You do not look on me
for I am much ashamed of my disguise.
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 into a boy.
Descend, for you must be my torchbearer.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,
and I should be obscured.
So are you, sweet,
even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once,
for the close night doth play the runaway.
I will gild myself with some more ducats
and be with you straight.
Contend 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 proved herself.
And therefore, like herself,
wise, fair and true,
shall she be placed in my constant soul.
No!
Who's there?
- Signior Antonio!
- Fie, fie, Gratiano.
'Tis ten o'clock, our friends all wait for you.
No masque tonight.
The wind has come about,
Bassanio soon will come aboard.
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
Jessica!
Jessica!
Jessica!
I will make some speed of my return.
Hurry not business for my sake,
but stay the very riping of the time.
And for the Jew's bond that he has
of thee, let it not enter your mind of love.
- Leva i remi.
- Rema.
Avanti!
Be merry and employ
your chiefest thoughts to courtship,
such fair displays of love
as may conveniently become you there.
Tira!
Oh... ehi! Oh... ehi!
Oh... ehi! Oh... ehi!
No!
No!
No, no.
Jessica!
No.
I never heard
a passion so confused,
so strange, outrageous and so variable
as the dog Jew did utter in the streets.
"My daughter! O my ducats!
O my daughter!"
The villain Jew with outcries
raised the Duke
who went with him
to search Bassanio's ship.
He came too late, the ship was under sail.
Let good Antonio look he keep his day
or he shall pay for this.
Marry, well remembered.
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 wished in silence that it were not his.
Madam! Madam!
Madam!
Oh... Madam!
Quick! Quick!
I pray you, the Prince of Aragon
hath taken his oath
and comes to his election presently.
¡Música!
"Who chooses me
must give and hazard all he has."
You shall look fairer ere I give or hazard.
What says the golden chest?
Ha! Let me see.
"Who chooses me shall gain
what many men desire."
I will not choose what many men desire
because I will not jump
with common spirits
and rank me with the barbarous multitude.
"Who chooses me
"shall get as much as he deserves."
And well said, too.
I will assume desert.
Give me a key for this
and instantly unlock my fortunes here.
Too long a pause
for that which you find there.
What's here?
The portrait of a blinking idiot
presenting me a schedule?
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize?
Are my deserts no better?
To offend and judge are distinct offices
and of opposed natures.
With one fool's head
I came to woo.
But I go away with two.
Antonio's ship is wrecked,
gone down with all hands,
all merchandise lost.
Come on up! Come on up.
Who is that there?
- Jew!
- The Jew! Hey!
Take some pleasure with us!
Taste my Christian flesh!
- What news on the Rialto?
- Why, yet it lives there unchecked
that Antonio hath a ship of rich lading
wrecked 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.
What say you?
I would it might prove
the end of his losses.
How now, Shylock?
What news amongst the merchants?
You knew of my daughter's flight.
None so well.
None so well as you.
And Shylock for his own part
knew the bird was fledged
and then it is the complexion of them all
to leave the dam.
She be damned for it.
Tell us, do you hear whether Antonio
have had any loss at sea or no?
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 Christian courtesy.
Let him look to his bond.
Hello, Jew!
I'm sure if he forfeit you'll not take
his flesh. What's that good for?
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,
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, 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.
If a Jew wrong a Christian,
what is his humility? Revenge.
If a Christian wrong a Jew,
what should his sufferance be
by Christian example?
Why, revenge.
The villainy you teach me I will execute.
And it shall go hard
but I will better the instruction.
Antonio is at his house.
We should speak with him.
How now, Tubal?
What news from Genoa?
- Have you found my daughter?
- I often came where I did hear of her
but cannot find her.
Why...
there, there, there.
A diamond gone.
Cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfurt.
The curse never fell upon our nation
till now.
I never felt it.
Till now.
I would my daughter were dead at my foot
and the jewel in her ear.
No news of them?
Loss upon loss.
The thief gone with so much
and so much to find the thief.
And no satisfaction, no revenge,
no luck stirring
but what lights on my shoulders.
No sighs
but of my breathing.
No tears but of my shedding.
Yes, other men have ill luck, too.
Antonio, as I heard in Genoa.
What?
What, what? Ill luck?
There's a ship, wrecked,
coming from Tripolis.
Oh, I thank God.
I thank God.
Oh!
Heard you in Genoa what?
Your daughter spent in Genoa,
as I heard,
one night, four score ducats.
Oh, you stick a dagger in me.
I shall never see my gold again.
Four score ducats!
At a sitting!
Four score ducats!
There came various of Antonio's creditors
in my company to Venice
- that swear he cannot choose but break.
- I am very glad of it.
I'll plague him.
I'll torture him. I am glad of it.
One of them showed me a ring
he had of your daughter
for a monkey.
How dare her!
Tubal, you torture me.
It was my turquoise.
I had it of Leah, her mother,
when I was a bachelor.
I would not have given it away
for a wilderness of monkeys.
But Antonio is certainly undone.
That is true.
Tubal, go, find me an officer.
Bespeak him a fortnight before.
I will have Antonio's heart if he forfeit.
Go, go, Tubal -
at our synagogue, good Tubal.
Oh... ehi!
Madam!
There is alighted at your gate
a young Venetian,
one who comes to signify
the approaching of his lord.
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... oh! Forerunner
comes before his lord.
No more, I pray you. I'm half afraid
you will say anon he is some kin to you,
you spin such high-day wit in praising him.
Come. Come, Nerissa,
for I long to see quick Cupid's post
that comes so mannerly.
Bassanio, lord Love, if your will it be.
There's something tells me,
but it is not love.
I would not lose you.
And yourself knows
hate counsels not in such a quality.
I would detain you here a month
or two before you venture for me.
I could teach you
how to choose right
but then I'd break my oath.
That will I never do.
So may you miss me
and if you do, you make me wish that sin
that I had broke my oath.
Contend me with your eyes
for they have o'erlooked 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.
Let me choose,
for as I am, I live upon the rack.
Upon the rack, Bassanio?
Then confess what
treason there is mingled with your love.
None but that ugly treason of mistrust
which makes me fear
the enjoying of my love.
Ay but I fear you speak upon the rack,
when men enforced do speak anything.
Promise me life
and I'll confess the truth.
Well, then,
confess and live.
Confess and love has been
the very sum of my confession.
But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
Away, then.
I am locked in one of them.
♪ Tell me where is fancy bred ♪
♪ Or in the heart or in the head? ♪
♪ How begot ♪
♪ How nourished ♪
♪ Reply ♪
♪ Reply ♪
♪ Reply ♪
♪ Reply... ♪
So may the outward shows
be least themselves.
The world is still deceived
with ornament.
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
but being seasoned 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?
Look on beauty
and you shall see
'tis purchased
by the weight.
Therefore, thou gaudy gold,
I will none of you.
Nor none of you, O pale and common
drudge between man and man.
But you, O meagre lead,
which rather threatenest
than dost promise aught,
your paleness moves me more...
than eloquence.
Here choose I.
Joy be the consequence.
O love, be moderate, allay your ecstasy,
I feel too much your blessing -
make it less for fear I surfeit.
What find I here?
Fair Portia's counterfeit.
Oh, what demi-goddess
comes so near creation?
Move these eyes? Or whether, riding on
the balls of mine, seem they in motion?
But her eyes -
how could he see to do them?
But look how far
the substance of my praise
does wrong this shadow
in underpraising it,
so far this shadow
doth limp behind the substance.
Here's the scroll -
the continent and summary of my fortune.
"You that choose not by the view
"Chances fair and chooses true
"Since this fortune falls on you
"Be content and seek no new
"If you be well pleased with this
"Then hold your fortune for your bliss
"Turn you where 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.
Like one of two contending in a prize
That thinks he has done well
in people's eyes
Hearing applause and universal shout
Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt
As doubtful whether what I see be true
Until confirmed, signed, ratified
by you
You see me, lord Bassanio,
where I stand, such as I am.
Though for myself alone
I would not be ambitious in my wish
to wish myself much better,
yet for you,
I would be treble 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 something
which, to term in gross,
is an unlessoned girl,
unschooled, unpractised.
Happy in this,
she is not yet so old that she may learn.
Happier than this,
she is not bred so dull that she may learn.
Happiest of all,
is that her gentle spirit
commits itself to yours to be directed
as by her governor,
her lord,
her king.
This house, these servants,
and this same myself
are yours,
my lord's.
I give them with this ring,
which when you part from,
lose or give away,
let it presage the ruin of your love.
And give me vantage to exclaim on you.
Madam,
you have bereft me of all words.
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins,
there is such confusion in my powers.
But when this ring parts from this finger
then parts life from hence -
O, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead.
My lord Bassanio, my gentle lady,
I wish you all the joy that you can wish
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.
With all my heart.
If you can get a wife.
I thank you, your lordship,
you have got me one.
My eyes, my lord,
can look as swift as yours.
You saw the mistress,
I beheld the maid.
Is it true, Nerissa?
- Madam, it is!
- Oh!
And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
Yes, faith, my lord.
Our feast shall be much honoured
in your marriage.
We'll play with them
the first boy for a thousand ducats.
- What, with stake down?
- No.
We shall never win at that sport
with stake down.
Ho, there! Ho!
But who comes here?
There are some shrewd contents
in yond same paper,
that do steal the colour
from Bassanio's cheek.
Some dear friend dead, else nothing
in the world could turn the constitution
of any constant man.
What, worse and worse!
With leave, Bassanio,
I am half yourself
and I must freely have half of anything
that this same letter brings you.
O sweet Portia,
they are a few of the unpleasantest words
that ever blotted paper.
Gentle lady,
when I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you
all the wealth I had ran in my veins -
I was a gentleman 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 estate was nothing,
I should have told you
I was worse than nothing,
for, indeed, I have engaged myself
to a dear friend,
who engaged my dear friend
to his mere enemy
to feed my means.
Here is a letter, lady.
The paper is the body of my friend
and every word in it a gaping wound
issuing life-blood.
But is it true, Salerio? What,
all his ventures failed? What, not one hit?
From Tripolis, from Mexico, from England?
Not one, my lord.
Besides it appears that if he had
the present money to discharge the Jew,
he would not take it.
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.
When I was with him,
I have heard him swear
to Tubal and to Cush, his countrymen,
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.
Is it your dear friend
that is thus in trouble?
The dearest friend to me.
What sum owes he the Jew?
For me, three thousand ducats.
No more?
Pay him six thousand and deface the bond.
Double six thousand and then treble that
before a friend of this description should
lose a hair through Bassanio's fault.
Let me hear the letter of your friend.
"Sweet Bassanio, my ships have
all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel,
"my estate is very low.
"My bond to the Jew is forfeit and since
in paying it, it is impossible I should live,
"all debts are cleared between you and I,
"if I might but see you at my death.
"Notwithstanding, use your pleasure -
"if love do not persuade you to come,
let not my letter."
O love,
dispatch all business and be gone!
First...
go with me to church and call me wife.
Then away to Venice, to your friend.
For never shall you lie by Portia's side
with an unquiet soul.
You shall have gold to pay
the petty debt twenty times over.
When it is paid,
bring your true friend along.
Meantime, myself and Nerissa
will live as maids and widows.
Come, away,
for you shall hence
upon your wedding day.
Gaoler, look to him, tell me not of mercy.
This is the fool that lent out money gratis.
Gaoler, look to him.
Hear me yet, good Shylock.
I'll have my bond.
Speak not against my bond.
I have sworn an oath
that I will have my bond.
You called me dog before you had a cause.
But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.
The duke will grant me justice.
I do wonder, you wicked gaolers,
you are so fond
to come abroad with him at his request.
- I pray you, hear me speak!
- I'll have my bond,
I will not hear you speak.
I'll have my bond, therefore speak no more.
I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool,
to shake their head, relent and sigh
and yield to Christian intercessors.
I'll have no speaking, follow not.
I will have my bond.
It is the most impenetrable cur
that ever kept with men.
Let him alone.
I'll follow him no more
with bootless prayers.
He seeks my life.
His reason well I know.
I'm sure the duke will never grant
this forfeiture to hold!
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.
Therefore, go.
Oh!
These griefs and losses have so bated me
that I shall hardly find a pound of flesh
tomorrow for my bloody creditor.
Pray God Bassanio come
to see me pay his debt.
Then I care not.
Madam, 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 kindness would allow you.
I never did repent for doing good,
I shall not now.
For in companions that do
converse and waste the time together
there needs must be 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 bestowed
in purchasing the semblance of my soul
from out of this state of hellish cruelty.
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 my own part, I have towards heaven
breathed a secret vow
to live in prayer and contemplation,
only attended by Nerissa here,
- until my husband and her lord's return.
- Madam, with all my heart,
I shall obey you in all fair commands.
Fair thoughts and happy hours
attend on you.
Go, speed to Padua, render this
into my cousin's hands, old Bellario.
Go!
Is it not so, cousin Bellario?
♪ How sweet the rose... ♪
See, Jessica.
Look how the floor of heaven is
thick inlaid with patterns of bright gold.
Is not the smallest orb that you behold
but in his motion like an angel sings?
Such harmony is in immortal souls.
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
doth grossly close it in,
- we cannot hear it.
- Hm.
I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
The reason is your spirits are attentive.
The man that hath no music in himself
nor is not moved
with concord of sweet sounds
is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils.
The motions of his spirit are
as dull as night
and his affections are as dark as Erebus.
Let no such man be trusted.
Mark the music.
♪ Sweet rose... ♪
We shall see our husbands
before they think of us.
Shall they see us?
They shall, Nerissa,
but in such a habit that they shall think
we are accomplished with what we lack.
I'll hold you any wager, when we are both
accoutred like young men,
I'll prove the prettier fellow of the two.
Go one and call the Jew
to the court.
Make room and let him stand
before our face.
He is come, my lord.
Shylock, the world thinks,
and I think so, too,
that you but lead'st this fashion
of your malice to the last hour of the act
and then 'tis thought
you'll show your mercy and remorse,
more strange than is
your strange apparent cruelty.
What say you, Jew?
We all expect a gentle answer.
I have informed your grace
of what I purpose
and by our holy Sabbath have I sworn
to have the due and forfeit of my bond.
If you deny it,
let the danger light upon your charter
and your city's freedom.
You'll ask me why I rather choose
to have a weight of human flesh
than to receive three thousand ducats.
I'll not answer that.
But, say, it is my humour - is it answered?
What if my house be troubled by a rat
and I am pleased to give
ten thousand ducats to have it killed?
- What, are you answered yet?
- No.
Some men there are love not a gaping pig,
some that are mad if they behold a cat
and others when the bagpipe sings
in the nose cannot contain their urine.
For affection, master of passion, sways it
to the mood of what it likes or loathes.
Now for your answer.
As there is no firm reason to be rendered
why he cannot abide a gaping pig,
why he, a harmless, necessary cat,
why he a woollen bagpipe,
but of force must yield
to such inevitable shame
as to offend himself being offended,
so can I give no reason,
nor will I not,
more than a lodged hate
and a certain loathing I bear Antonio,
that I follow thus
this losing suit against him.
- Are you answered?
- No!
This is no answer, you unfeeling man,
to excuse the current of your cruelty.
I am not bound to please you
with my answers.
Do all men kill the things they do not love?
Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
Every offence is not a hate at first.
You would have a serpent sting you twice?
I pray you,
think you question with the Jew:
You may as well go stand upon the beach
and bid the main flood lower
its usual height.
You may as well question with the wolf
why he has made
the ewe bleat for the lamb.
You may as well do anything most hard
as seek to soften that
than which what's harder, his Jewish heart.
Therefore I do beseech you, make
no more offers, use no farther means,
but with all just and plain conveniency
let me have judgment
and the Jew his will.
No! No!
You loaned three thousand ducats.
Here is six.
If every ducat in six thousand ducats
were in six parts and every part a ducat
I would not draw them,
I would have my bond.
How shall you hope for mercy,
giving none?
What judgment should I fear,
doing no wrong?
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.
Their palates seasoned with your food.
You will answer, "The slaves are ours."
So do I answer you.
The pound of flesh that I demand of him
is dearly bought.
'Tis mine.
'Tis mine!
'Tis mine.
And I will have it.
If you deny me, fie upon your law.
There is no force in the decrees of Venice.
I stand for judgment.
Answer.
Shall I have it?
Silence! Silence!
Silence! Upon my power
I may dismiss this court
unless Bellario, a learned doctor
that I have sent for to determine this,
- come here today.
- My lord!
Here stays without a messenger
with letters from the doctor
new come from Padua.
Come you from Padua, from old Bellario?
From both, my lord.
Bellario greets your grace.
Why do you whet your knife so earnestly?
To cut the forfeiture
from that bankrupt there.
Can no prayers pierce you?
No, none that you have
wit enough to make.
Be you damned, inexecrable dog
and for your life let justice be accused.
Till you can rail the seal from off my bond,
you but offend your lungs
to speak so loud.
Prepare your wit, good youth,
or it will fall to cureless ruin.
I stand here for law.
- I stand for law!
- Silence! Silence!
This letter does commend
a young and learned doctor to our court.
- Well, where is he?
- He attendeth here hard by
to know your answer,
whether you'll admit him.
Go, give him
courteous conduct to this place.
Meantime, the court
shall hear Bellario's letter.
"Your grace shall understand that
at the receipt of your letter, I am very sick
"but in the instant your messenger came
there was with me a young doctor of Rome
"whose name is Balthasar.
"He comes at my asking to take my place.
"I beseech you,
let his lack of years be no impediment,
"for I never knew so young a body
with so old a head.
"I leave him to your gracious acceptance."
You heard Bellario, what he writes.
Oh, and here, I take it, is the doctor come.
You are welcome.
Take your place.
Are you acquainted with the difference that
holds this present question in the court?
I am informed thoroughly of the case.
Which is the merchant here
and which the Jew?
Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
- Is your name Shylock?
- Shylock is my name.
Of a strange nature is the suit you follow,
yet in such rule that the Venetian law
cannot deny you as you do proceed.
- You stand within his power, do you not?
- Ay, so he says.
- Do you confess the bond?
- I do.
Then must the Jew be merciful.
On what compulsion must I? Tell me that.
The quality of mercy is not strained,
it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
upon the place beneath.
It is twice blessed -
it blesseth him that gives
and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mighty.
It becomes the throned monarch
better than his crown.
His sceptre shows the force
of temporal power,
the attribute to awe and majesty wherein
doth sit the dread and fear of kings.
But mercy is above this sceptred sway.
It is enthroned in the heart of kings.
It is an attribute to God himself
and earthly power doth then show
likest God's
when mercy seasons justice.
Therefore, Jew,
though justice be your plea,
consider this.
That in the course of justice,
none of us should see salvation.
We do pray for mercy
and that same prayer doth teach us all
to render the deeds of mercy.
I have spoke thus much
to mitigate the justice of your plea,
which if you follow
this strict course of Venice
must needs give sentence
against the merchant there.
My deeds upon my head.
I crave the law,
the penalty and forfeit of my bond.
- Is he not able to discharge the money?
- Yes, here I tender it for him in court,
yea, twice the sum.
If that is not enough,
I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er
on forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart!
If this is not enough it must appear
that malice bears down on truth.
I beseech you,
wrest once the law to your authority -
to do a great right, do a little wrong
and curb this cruel devil of his will.
It must not be. There is no power in Venice
can alter a decree established.
'Twill be recorded for a precedent
and many an error of the same example
will rush into the state.
- It cannot be.
- A Daniel come to judgment.
Yea, a Daniel.
O wise young judge, how I do honour you.
I pray you, let me look upon the bond.
Most reverend doctor, here it is.
Shylock, there is twice the money
offered you.
An oath, an oath.
I have an oath in heaven.
Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
No. Not for Venice.
Why, this bond is forfeit
and lawfully at this time
the Jew may claim a pound of flesh
to be by him cut off
nearest the merchant's heart.
Be merciful.
Take twice your money,
bid me tear the bond.
When it is paid, according to the terms.
Most heartily I do beseech the court
to give the judgment.
Then thus it is. You must prepare
your bosom for his knife.
O noble judge, excellent young man.
For the intent and purpose of the law
has full relation to the penalty
which here appeareth due upon the bond.
'Tis very true, O wise and upright judge.
How much more elder are you
than you look.
- Therefore, lay bare your bosom.
- Ay, his breast.
So says the bond, does it not,
noble judge?
Nearest the heart.
- Those are the very words.
- It is so.
Are there balances here
to weigh the flesh?
I have them here.
Have by some surgeon, Shylock,
on your charge
to stop his wounds
lest he should bleed to death.
Is it so nominated in the bond?
It is not so expressed but what of that?
'Twere good you do so much for charity.
I cannot find it. 'Tis not in the bond.
You, merchant, have you anything to say?
But little.
I am armed and well prepared.
Give me your hand, Bassanio.
Fare thee well.
Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you.
For herein doth Fortune show herself
more kind than is her custom.
Commend me to thy honourable wife.
Tell her the process of Antonio's end.
Say how I loved you,
speak me fair in death.
And when the tale is told,
bid her be judge
whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent but you
that you shall lose your friend
and you repent not that he pays your debt.
For if the Jew do cut but deep enough
I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.
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 your life.
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all,
here to this devil
to deliver you.
I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love -
I would she were in heaven,
so she could entreat some power
to change this cursed Jew!
I have a daughter!
Would that any of the stock of Barrabas
been her husband
rather than a Christian.
We trifle time. I pray you, pursue sentence.
You may proceed.
A pound of that same
merchant's flesh is yours.
The court awards it
and the law does give it.
Most rightful judge.
And you must cut this flesh
from off his breast.
The court awards it and the law allows it.
Most learned judge.
A sentence.
Come.
Prepare.
- Tarry a little!
- Aah!
There is something else.
This bond does give you here
no drop of blood.
The words expressly are a pound of flesh.
Take then your bond,
take then your pound of flesh,
but in the cutting of it,
if you do shed one drop of Christian blood,
your lands and goods
are by the laws of Venice confiscate
unto the state of Venice.
O upright judge!
Mark, Jew. Learned judge!
Is that the law?
Yourself shall see the act.
For as you urge on justice,
be assured you shall have justice
more than you desire.
Well.
I take the offer, then.
Pay the bond twice
and let the Christian go.
- Here is the money.
- Soft. The Jew shall have all justice.
No haste. He shall have nothing
but the penalty.
Therefore, prepare you to cut off the flesh.
Shed then no blood
nor cut you less nor more
but just a pound of flesh.
If you take more or less than a just pound
be it but so much
as makes it light or heavy
in the substance or division
of the twentieth part of one poor scruple,
nay, if the scale do turn
but in the estimation of a hair,
you die
and all your goods are confiscate.
A second Daniel!
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip!
Why does the Jew pause?
Shall I not have even my principal?
You shall have nothing but your forfeiture,
to be so taken at your peril, Jew.
Why, then the devil give him good of it.
- I'll stay no longer question.
- Tarry, Jew.
The law has yet another hold on you.
It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
if it be proved against an alien
that by direct or indirect attempts
he seek the life of any citizen,
the party 'gainst which he does contrive
shall seize one half of 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 you stand.
Down, therefore,
and beg mercy of the Duke.
Beg that you may have leave
to hang yourself.
That you shall see the difference
in our spirit, I pardon you your life
before you ask it.
For half your wealth, it is Antonio's, the
other half shall come to the general state.
Nay, take my life and all -
pardon not that.
You take my house when you take the prop
that doth sustain my house.
You take my life
when you take the means whereby I live.
What mercy can you render him, Antonio?
A halter gratis,
nothing else, for God's sake.
So please my lord the Duke
and all the court
forego the fine of one half of his goods.
I am content so he will let me use
the other half, in trust,
relinquish it upon his death
unto the gentleman
that lately stole his daughter.
One thing provided more,
that, for this favour,
he shall presently become a Christian.
He shall do this
or else I do recant the pardon
I late pronounced here.
Are you contented, Jew?
What do you say?
Oh...
I am contented.
Clerk, prepare a deed of gift.
I pray you, give me leave to go from hence.
I... I am not well.
I will... Send a deed after me
and I will sign it.
Get you gone, then, but do it.
Court dismissed.
Most worthy gentleman,
I and my friend have by your wisdom
been this day acquitted
of most grievous penalties,
in lieu whereof, three thousand ducats,
due unto the Jew
we freely pay your courteous pains withal.
- Mm.
- And stand indebted, over and above,
in love and service to you ever more.
He is well paid that is well satisfied
and I, delivering you, am satisfied
and therein do account myself well paid -
fare you well.
Dear sir, of force
I must attempt you further.
Take some remembrance of us,
as a tribute, not as a fee.
Run me two things, I pray you.
Not to deny me and to pardon me.
You press me far, therefore I will yield.
Give me your gloves.
I'll wear them for your sake.
And for your love,
I'll take this ring from you.
Do not draw back your hand,
I'll take no more,
and you, in love, shall not deny me this.
This ring... Good sir, alas, it is a trifle,
I would not shame myself to give you this.
I will have nothing else but only this.
There's more depends on this
than on the value.
The dearest ring in all of Venice will I give
to you, and find it out by proclamation,
only for this, I pray you, pardon me.
Oh, I see, sir.
You are liberal in offers,
you taught me first to beg,
and now methinks you teach me
how a beggar should be answered.
This ring was given me by my wife.
Oh!
And when she put it on she made me vow
that I should neither sell nor give
nor lose it.
That 'scuse serves many men
to save their gifts
and if your wife be not a madwoman,
then know her well
I have deserved this ring.
She would not hold out enemy forever
for giving it to me.
My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring.
Let not his deserving and my love as well
be valued 'gainst
your wife's commandment.
Enquire the Jew's house out.
Give him this deed and let him sign it.
Ho! My lord Bassanio upon more advice
has sent you here this ring.
He does entreat your company at dinner.
That cannot be.
His ring I do accept most thankfully.
I pray you tell him.
Furthermore, I pray you show my youth
to old Shylock's house.
That will I do.
I'll see if I can get my husband's ring which
I did make him swear to keep forever.
Dear ladies, welcome home.
We have been praying
for our husbands' welfare,
whose speed
we hope the better for our words.
This night, methinks,
is but the daylight sick.
It looks a little paler.
'Tis a day such as the day is
when the sun is hid.
- Ho!
- Peace.
You're welcome home, my lord.
I thank you, madam.
Give welcome to my friend.
This is the man, this is Antonio
to whom I am so infinitely bound.
You should in all sense
be much bound to him,
for as I hear he was much bound for you.
No more than I am well acquitted of.
Sir, you are welcome to our house.
It must appear in other ways than words
so I cut short this breathing courtesy.
By yonder moon,
I swear you do me wrong.
In faith I gave it to the judge's clerk.
Would he were gelded
that had it, for my part,
since you do take it, love,
so much at heart.
A quarrel, ho, already? What's the matter?
About a hoop of gold,
a paltry ring that she did give me,
whose motto was for all the world
like cutler's poetry upon a knife.
"Love me and leave me not."
What talk you of the motto
or the value?
You swore to me when I did give it you
that you would wear it
till your 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 to a judge's clerk!
- I gave it to a youth,
a kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy,
no higher than thyself, the judge's clerk.
You were to blame,
I must be plain with you,
to part so slightly with your wife's first gift.
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 lose it
nor pluck it from his finger
for all the wealth that the world masters.
Why, I were best to cut my left hand off
and swear I lost the ring defending it.
- My lord Bassanio gave his ring away.
- Hm?
Unto the judge that begged it
and indeed deserved it, too.
And then the boy, his clerk, that took
some pain in writing, he begged mine
and neither man nor master
would take aught but the two rings.
If I could add a lie onto a fault
I would deny it
but you see my finger
has not the ring upon it, it is... gone.
Even so void is your false heart of truth.
By heaven, I will ne'er come into 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,
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.
If you had known the virtue of the ring
or half her worthiness
who did give the ring,
or your own honour to contain the ring,
you would not then
have parted with the ring.
Nerissa teaches me what to believe.
I'll die for it but some woman has that ring.
No, by honour, madam,
by my soul, no woman had it
but a civil doctor,
which did refuse three thousand ducats
of me and begged the ring
the which I did refuse him,
and suffered him, displeased, to go away,
even he that had held up
the very life of my dear friend.
What should I say, sweet lady?
I was enforced to send it after him.
Let not that doctor come near my house.
Since he has got the jewel that I loved and
that which you did swear to keep for me,
I will become as liberal as you -
I'll not deny him anything I have.
No, not since my body,
nor my husband's bed,
know him I shall, I am sure of that.
Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong
and in the hearing of these many friends,
I swear to you, even by thine own fair eyes,
I never more will break an oath with thee.
I once did lend my body
for his wealth.
I dare be bound again,
my soul upon the forfeit,
that your lord...
will never more break faith advisedly.
Then you shall be his surety.
Give him this.
And bid him keep it better
than the other.
My lord Bassanio, swear to keep this ring.
By heaven, 'tis the same I gave the doctor.
I had it of him. Pardon me, Bassanio,
for, by this ring, the doctor lay with me.
And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano,
for that same scrubbed boy,
the doctor's clerk,
in lieu of this last night did lie with me.
Why...
This is like
the mending of the highways in summer,
when the ways are fair enough.
What, are we cuckolds
ere we have deserved it?
Speak not so grossly.
You are all amazed.
Bassanio...
Here is a letter,
it comes from Padua, from old Bellario.
There you shall read
that Portia was the doctor,
Nerissa there her clerk.
Lorenzo here shall witness
I set forth as soon as you
and only just now returned.
Were you the doctor and I knew you not?
Were you the clerk
that is to make me a cuckold?
Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it
unless he live to be a man.
Sweet doctor,
you shall be my bedfellow.
When I am absent, then lie with my wife.
How now, Lorenzo?
My clerk has some good comforts too
for you.
Ay, there do I give to you and Jessica
from the rich Jew
a special deed of gift after his death
of all he dies possessed of.
Oh!
Fair ladies, you drop manna
in the way of starved people.
It is almost morning
and yet, I am sure you are not satisfied
with these events at full.
Let us go in.
And I will answer all things faithfully.
Well, let it be so.
The first inter'gatory
that my Nerissa shall be sworn on is
whether till the next night
she had rather stay or go to bed now,
being two hours today.
But were the day come,
I should wish it dark
till I were couching the doctor's clerk.
Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing
so sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring.
♪ The world was all before them ♪
♪ Ah ♪
♪ Where to choose their place of rest ♪
♪ Ah ♪
♪ And Providence their guide ♪
♪ They hand in hand ♪
♪ Took their wand'ring steps ♪
♪ And slow ♪
♪ Through Eden ♪
♪ Took their solitary way ♪
♪ Ah... ♪
♪ The ring is on my hand ♪
♪ And the wreath is on my brow ♪
♪ Satin and jewels grand ♪
♪ Are all at my command ♪
♪ And I am happy now ♪
♪ And my lord, he loves me well ♪
♪ But when first he breathed his vow ♪
♪ I felt my bosom swell ♪
♪ For the words rang as a knell ♪
♪ And the voice seemed his who fell ♪
♪ In the battle down the dell ♪
♪ And who is happy now ♪
♪ But he spoke to reassure me ♪
♪ And he kissed my pallid brow ♪
♪ While a reverie came o'er me ♪
♪ And to the churchyard bore me ♪
♪ And I sighed to him before me ♪
♪ Thinking him dead D'Elormie ♪
♪ "Oh, I am happy now!" ♪
♪ Ah... ♪
♪ And I am happy now ♪
♪ And thus the words were spoken ♪
♪ And this the plighted vow ♪
♪ And though my faith be broken ♪
♪ And though my heart be broken ♪
♪ Here is a ring, as token ♪
♪ That I am happy now ♪
♪ Would God I could awaken ♪
♪ For I dream I know not how ♪
♪ And my soul is sorely shaken ♪
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