_Duke_. What, is Antonio here?
_Ant_. Ready, so please your grace.
_Duke._ I am sorry for thee; thou art come to answer A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch Uncapable of pity, void and empty From any dram of mercy.
_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 To suffer, with a quietness of spirit, The very tyranny and rage of his.
_Duke_. Go one, and call the Jew into the court,
_Salan_. He is ready at the door: he comes, my lord.
_Enter_ SHYLOCK.
_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 Thou"lt 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 loose the forfeiture, But, touch"d with human gentleness and love, Forgive a moiety of the princ.i.p.al; Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, That have of late so huddled on his back, Enow to press a royal merchant down And pluck commiseration of his state From bra.s.sy 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 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 carrion flesh than to receive Three thousand ducats; I"ll not answer that: But, say, it is my humour; is it answer"d?
_Ba.s.s._ This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, To excuse the current of thy cruelty.
_Shy_. I am not bound to please thee with my answer.
_Ant._ I pray you, think you question with the 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 Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb; You may as well forbid the mountain pines To wag their high tops and to make no noise, When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven; 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 beseech 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.
_Ba.s.s_. For thy three thousand ducats here is six.
_Shy_, 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.
_Duke_. How shalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none?
_Shy_. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?
You have among you many a purchased slave, Which, like your a.s.ses 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 burthens? let their beds Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates Be season"d with such viands? You will answer "The slaves are ours:" so do I answer you; The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, Is dearly bought; "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?
_Duke_. Upon my power, I may dismiss this court, Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, Whom I have sent for to determine this, Come here to-day.
_Salar_. My lord, here stays without A messenger with letters from the doctor, New come from Padua.
_Duke_. Bring us the letters; call the messenger.
_Enter_ NERISSA, _dressed like a lawyer"s clerk._
_Duke._ Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
_Ner_. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace.
[_Presenting a letter_.
_Ba.s.s_. 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.
_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.
_Enter_ PORTIA, _dressed like a doctor of laws_.
_Duke_. Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellario?
_Por_. I did, my lord.
_Duke_. You are welcome: take your place.
Are you acquainted with the difference That holds this present question in the court?
_Por_. I am informed thoroughly of the cause.
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew?
_Duke_. Antonio and old Shylock, both stand forth.
_Por_. Is your name Shylock?
_Shy_. Shylock is my name.
_Por_. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow; Yet in such rule that the Venetian law Cannot impugn you as you do proceed.
You stand within his danger, do you not?
_Ant_. Ay, so he says.