William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William Shakespeare

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 anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge.

       NERISSA. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these 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.

       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 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 pray God grant 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 company of the Marquis of Montferrat?

       PORTIA.

       Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so was he called.

       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 a SERVANT.]

       How now! what news?

       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 tonight.

       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 complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. Come, Nerissa. Sirrah, go before. Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door.

       [Exeunt]

      SCENE 3. Venice. A public place

       [Enter BASSANIO and 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?

       BASSANIO. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your answer?

       SHYLOCK.

       Three thousand ducats, for three months, and Antonio bound.

       BASSANIO.

       Your answer to that.

       SHYLOCK.

       Antonio is a good man.

       BASSANIO.

       Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?

       SHYLOCK. Ho, no, no, no, no: my meaning in saying he is a good man is to have you understand me that he is sufficient; yet his means are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand, moreover, 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 thousand ducats-I think I may take his bond.

       BASSANIO.

       Be assured you may.

       SHYLOCK. I will be assured I may; and, that I may be assured, 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?

       [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

       The rate of usance here with us in Venice.

       If I can catch him once upon the hip,

       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 well-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?

       Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,

       Will furnish me. But soft! how many months

       Do you desire? [To ANTONIO] Rest you 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’ll break a custom. [To BASSANIO] Is he yet possess’d

       How much ye would?

       SHYLOCK.

       Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.

       ANTONIO.

       And for three months.

       SHYLOCK.

       I had forgot; three months; you told me so.

       Well then, your bond; and, let me see. But hear you,

       Methought you said you neither lend nor borrow

       Upon advantage.

       ANTONIO.

       I do never use it.

       SHYLOCK.

       When Jacob graz’d his uncle Laban’s sheep,—

       This Jacob from our holy Abram was,

       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,

       Directly interest; mark what Jacob did.

       When Laban and himself were compromis’d

       That all the eanlings which were streak’d and pied

       Should fall as Jacob’s hire, the ewes, being rank,

       In end of autumn turned to the rams;

       And when the work of generation was

       Between these woolly breeders in the act,

       The skilful shepherd peel’d me certain wands,