ACT IV. SCENE I. Venice. A Court of Justice. Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes; Antonio, Bassanio, Gratiano, Salarino, Salanio, and others. Duke. What, is Antonio here? Ant. Ready, so please your grace. Duke. I am sorry for thee; thou art come to an swer A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch Uncapable of pity, void and empty Ant. I have heard, Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate, And that no lawful means can carry me Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose My patience to his fury; and am arm'd Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court. Enter Shylock. Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our face. Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, *Hatred, malice. + Pity. Seeming. § Whereas. That have of late so huddled on his back; From brassy bosoms, and rough hearts of flint, We all expect a gentle answer, Jew. Shy. I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose; And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn, To have the due and forfeit of my bond: If you deny it, let the danger light Upon your charter, and your city's freedom. A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd? Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my an swer. * Particular fancy. + Crying. + Prejudice. Bass. Do all men kill the things they do not love? Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill? Bass. Every offence is not a hate at first. Shy. What, would'st thou have a serpent sting thee twice? Ant. I pray you, think you question* with the You may as well go stand upon the beach, As seek to soften that (than which what's harder?) none? Shy. What judgement shall I dread, doing no wrong? You have among you many a purchas'd slave, Because you bought them :-Shall I say to you, * Converse. If you deny me, fye upon your law! There is no force in the decrees of Venice: I stand for judgement: answer; shall I have it? Whom I have sent for to determine this, Salar. My lord, here stays without Duke. Bring us the letters; Call the messenger. Bass. 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. Ant. I am a tainted wether of the flock, Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me: You cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio, Than to live still, and write mine epitaph. Enter Nerissa, dressed like a lawyer's clerk. Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario? Ner. From both, my lord: Bellario greets your [Presents a letter. grace. Bass. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? Shy. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. Gra. 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 Of thy sharp envy*. Can no prayers pierce thee? Shy. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. Gra. 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, Are wolfish, bloody, starv'd, and ravenous. Shy. Till thou can'st rail the seal from off my bond, Thou but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud: Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend A young and learned doctor to our court:— Where is he? Ner. Go give him courteous conduct to this place.- [Clerk reads.] Your grace shall understand, that, at the receipt 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 furnish'd with my opinion; which, better'd with his own learning (the greatness whereof I cannot enough commend), comes with him, at my importunity, to fill up your grace's request in my stead. I beseech you, let his lack of years be no impediment to let him lack a reverend estimation; for I never knew so young a body with so old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his commendation. Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes: And here, I take it, is the doctor come.— Enter Portia, dressed like a doctor of laws. Give me your hand: Came you from old Bellario? |