Enter the Duke, the Senators, Anthonio, Bassanio, Gratiano,
Anth. Ready, so please your grace.
Duke. I'm forry for thee; thou art come to answer
A ftony adversary, an inhuman wretch,
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
From any dram of mercy.
Anth. I have heard,
Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify His rig'rous course; but fince he stands obdurate, And that no lawful means can carry me
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To fuffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and rage of his.
Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court. Sal. He's ready at the door: he comes, my lord.
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, 'tis thought, Thoul't show thy mercy, and remorse, more strange 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 lose 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 hudled on his back; Enough to press a royal merchant down, And pluck commiferation of his state
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.
Shy. I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose; And by our holy fabbath have I fworn, To have the due and forfeit of my bond. If you deny it, let the danger light Upon your charter, and your city's freedom. You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive Three thousand ducats? I'll not answer that. But, say, it is my humour; is it answered ? What if my house be troubled with a rat, And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats To have it bane'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 ; And others, when the bagpipe sings i' th' nose, Cannot contain their urine for affection. * Masterless passion sways us to the mood Of what it likes, or loaths. Now for your answer : As there is no firm reason to be render'd,
Why he cannot abide a gaping pig, Why he a harmless necessary cat, Why Why he a woollen bagpipe, but of force Must yield to fuch inevitable shame, As to offend, himself being offended;
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
• That is, they are so affected with it.
More than a lodg'd hate, and a certain loathing, I bear Anthonio, that I follow thus
A losing suit against him. Are you answered? Baff. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, T'excuse the current of thy cruelty.
Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my answer. Baff. Do all men kill the thing they do not love? Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill? Baff. Ev'ry offence is not a hate at first.
Shy. What, would'st thou have a ferpent fting thee twice? Anth. I pray you, think you question with a 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, When you behold the ewe bleat for the lamb; You may as well forbid the mountain pines To wag their high tops, and to make a noife When they are fretted with the gufts of heav'n; 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 befeech you, Make no more offers, use no farther means, But, with all brief and plain conveniency, Let me have judgment, and the Jew his will. Baff. For thy three thousand ducats here is fix.
Shy. If ev'ry ducat in fix thousand ducats Were in fix parts, and ev'ry part a ducat, I would not draw them, I would have my bond. Duke. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rend'ring none? Shy. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong? You have among you many a purchas'd flave, Which, like your affes, and your dogs, and mules, You use in abject and in slavish part, 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
I stand for judgment; answer; shall I have it?
Duke. Upon my pow'r I may dismiss this court,
Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, Whom I have fent for to determine this, Come here to-day.
Sal. My lord, here stays without A messenger with letters from the doctor, New come from Padua.
Duke. Bring us the letters; call the messengers. Baff. Good cheer, Anthonio! what, man, courage yet! The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all, Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.
Anth. I am a tainted weather of the flock, Meeteft for death: the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me. You cannot better be employ'd, Baffanio, Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.pr/books/content?id=5MH4o_KJMP8C&output=html_text&pg=PA63&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=foul&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U3rkiKjpg4drFlMKik4Tf01NDX3HQ&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=263,864,248,23)
Enter Nerissa dress'd like a lawyer's clerk.
Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario? Ner. From both, my lord: Bellario greets your grace. Baff. Why doft thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
[the Jew whetting his knife on the fole of his shoe.
Shy. To cut the forfeit from that bankrupt there. Gra. Not on thy fole, but on thy foul, harsh Jew, Thou mak'st thy knife keen; for no metal can, No not the hangman's axe, bear half the keenness
Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? Shy. No, none that thou haft wit enough to make, Gra. O, be thou damn'd, inexorable dog, And for thy life let juftice be accus'd! Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith, To hold opinion with Pythagoras, That fouls of animals infuse themselves
Into the trunks of men. Thy currish spirit Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human flaughter, Ev'n from the gallows did his fell foul fleet, And, whilft thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam, Infus'd itself in thee; for thy defires
Are wolfish, bloody, starv'd, and ravenous.
Shy. Till thou canst rail the feal 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?
Ner. He attendeth here hard by
To know your answer, whether you'll admit him. Duke. With all my heart. - Some three or four of you,
Go, give him courteous conduct to this place : Meantime, the court shall hear Bellario's letter.
YOUR grace shall understand, that, at the receipt of your letter, I am very fick : the instant that your messenger came, in loving visitation was with me a young doctor of Rome, his name is Balthafar: I acquainted him with the cause in controversy between the Jew and Anthonio the merchant. We turn'do'er many books together: he is furnish'd with my opinion; which, bettered with his own learning, (the greatness whereof I cannot enough commend) comes with him at my importunity, to fill up your grace's request in my stead. I beseech you, let his lack of years be no impediment to let bim lack a reverend estimation; for I never knew so young a body
« AnteriorContinuar » |