To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, having
done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being, I
hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you--
Gobbo
I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon
your worship, and my suit is--
Launcelot
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.
Bassanio
One speak for both. What would you?
Launcelot
Serve you, sir.
Gobbo
That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
Bassanio
I know thee well; thou hast obtain'd thy suit:
Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,
And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment
To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
The follower of so poor a gentleman.
Launcelot
The old proverb is very well parted between my
master Shylock and you, sir: you have the grace of
God, sir, and he hath enough.
Bassanio
Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with thy son.
Take leave of thy old master and inquire
My lodging out. Give him a livery
More guarded than his fellows': see it done.
Launcelot
Father, in. I cannot get a service, no; I have
ne'er a tongue in my head. Well, if any man in
Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to swear
upon a book, I shall have good fortune. Go to,
here's a simple line of life: here's a small trifle
of wives: alas, fifteen wives is nothing! eleven
widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in for one
man: and then to 'scape drowning thrice, and to be
in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed;
here are simple scapes. Well, if Fortune be a
woman, she's a good wench for this gear. Father,
come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.
Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo.
Bassanio
I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this:
These things being bought and orderly bestow'd,
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
My best-esteem'd acquaintance: hie thee, go.
Leonardo
My best endeavours shall be done herein.
Enter GRATIANO.
Gratiano
Where is your master?
Leonardo
Yonder, sir, he walks.
Exit.
Gratiano
Signior Bassanio!
Bassanio
Gratiano!
Gratiano
I have a suit to you.
Bassanio
You have obtain'd it.
Gratiano
You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont.
Bassanio
Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano;
Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice;
Parts that become thee happily enough
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;
But where thou art not known, why, there they show
Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior
I be misconstrued in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.
Gratiano
Signior Bassanio, hear me:
If I do not put on a sober habit,
Talk with respect and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely,
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and sigh and say 'amen,'
Use all the observance of civility,
Like one well studied in a sad ostent
To please his grandam, never trust me more.
Bassanio
Well, we shall see your bearing.
Gratiano
Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me
By what we do to-night.
Bassanio
No, that were pity:
I would entreat you rather to put on
Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose merriment. But fare you well:
I have some business.
Gratiano
And I must to Lorenzo and the rest:
But we will visit you at supper-time.
Exeunt.
Scene 3
The same. A room in SHYLOCK'S house. Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT.
Jessica
I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so:
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee:
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou 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 in talk with thee.
Launcelot
Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful
pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian did not play
the knave and get thee, I am much deceived. But,
adieu! these foolish drops do something drown my
manly spirit: adieu!
Jessica
Farewell, good Launcelot.
Exit Launcelot.
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
To be ashamed to be my father's child!
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
Become a Christian and thy loving wife.
Exit.
Scene 4
The same. A street. Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO.
Lorenzo
Nay, we will slink away in supper-time,
Disguise us at my lodging and return,
All in an hour.
Gratiano
We have not made good preparation.
Salarino
We have not spoke us yet of torchbearers.
Solanio
'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintlyDefinitionskillfully / elegantly / ingeniouslySource: C.T. Onions (1911) order'd,
And better in my mind not undertook.
Lorenzo
'Tis now but four o'clock: we have two hours
To furnish us.
Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter.
Friend Launcelot, what's the news?
Launcelot
An it shall please you to break up this, it shall
seem to signify.
Lorenzo
I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand;
And whiter than the paper it writ on
Is the fair hand that writ.
Gratiano
Love-news, in faith.
Launcelot
By your leave, sir.
Lorenzo
Whither goest thou?
Launcelot
Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup
to-night with my new master the Christian.
Lorenzo
Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica
I will not fail her; speak it privately.
Go, gentlemen,
Exit Launcelot.
Will you prepare you for this masque to-night?
I am provided of a torchbearer.
Salarino
Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
Solanio
And so will I.
Lorenzo
Meet me and Gratiano
At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.
Salarino
'Tis good we do so.
Exeunt Salarino and Solanio.
Gratiano
Was not that letter from fair Jessica?
Lorenzo
I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed
How I shall take her from her father's house,
What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with,
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake:
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,
That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest:
Fair Jessica shall be my torchbearer.
Exeunt.
Scene 5
The same. Before SHYLOCK'S house. Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT.
Shylock
Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge,
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:--
What, Jessica!--thou shalt not gormandizeDefinitioneat greedily,
As thou hast done with me:--What, Jessica!--
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;--
Why, Jessica, I say!
Launcelot
Why, Jessica!
Shylock
Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
Launcelot
Your worship was wont to tell me that I could do
nothing without bidding.
Enter JESSICA.
Jessica
Call you? what is your will?
Shylock
I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:
There are my keys. But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. I am right loath to go:
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.
Launcelot
I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect
your reproach.
Shylock
So do I his.
Launcelot
And they have conspired together, I will not say you
shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not
for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-
Monday last at six o'clock i' the morning, falling
out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year, in the
afternoon.
Shylock
What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:
Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces,
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements:
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah;
Say I will come.
Launcelot
I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this,
There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jewess' eye.
Exit.
Shylock
What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?
Jessica
His words were 'Farewell mistress;' nothing else.
Shylock
The patchDefinitionfool / clownSource: A. Schmidt (1874) is kind enough, but a huge feeder;
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
More than the wild-cat: drones hive not with me;
Therefore I part with him; and part with him
To one that I would have him help to waste
His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in;
Perhaps I will return immediately:
Do as I bid you; shut doors after you:
Fast bind, fast findProverbA proverb meaning "if you lock things up securely, you will find them secure when you return." Shylock's obsession with control extends to both his money and his daughter.;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
Exit.
Jessica
Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost.
Exit.
Scene 6
The same. Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.
Gratiano
This is the pent-houseDefinitiona sloping roof / shelterSource: C.T. Onions (1911) under which Lorenzo
Desired us to make stand.
Salarino
His hour is almost past.
Gratiano
And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.
Salarino
O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly
To seal love's bonds new-made, than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!
Gratiano
That ever holds: who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker or a prodigal
The scarfedDefinitiondecorated with flags/streamersSource: C.T. Onions (1911) bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails,
Lean, rent and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!
Salarino
Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter.
Enter LORENZO.
Lorenzo
Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode;
Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait:
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then. Approach;
Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! who's within?
Enter JESSICA, above, in boy's clothes.
Jessica
Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,
Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue.
Lorenzo
Lorenzo, and thy love.
Jessica
Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed,
For who love I so much? And now who knows
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
Lorenzo
Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.
Jessica
Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains.
I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
For I am much ashamed of my exchange:
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 to a boy.
Lorenzo
Descend, for you must be my torchbearer.
Jessica
What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love;
And I should be obscured.
Lorenzo
So are you, sweet,
Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once;
For the close night doth play the runaway,
And we are stay'd for at Bassanio's feast.
Jessica
I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With some more ducats, and be with you straight.
Exit above.
Gratiano
Now, by my hood, a Gentile and no Jew.
Lorenzo
Beshrew 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.
Enter JESSICA, below.
What, art thou come? On, gentlemen, away!
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
Exit with Jessica and Salarino.
Enter ANTONIO.
Antonio
Who's there?
Gratiano
Signior Antonio!
Antonio
Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest?
'Tis nine o'clock: our friends all stay for you.
No masque to-night: the wind is come about;
Bassanio presently will go aboard:
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
Gratiano
I am glad on't: I desire no more delight
Than to be under sail and gone to-night.
Exeunt.
Scene 7
Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house. Flourish of cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the PRINCE OF MOROCCO, and their trains.
Portia
Go draw the curtains, go, and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince.
Now make your choice.
Morocco
The first, of gold, who this inscription bears,
'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire;'
The second, silver, which this promise carries,
'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves;'
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
How shall I know if I do choose the right?
Portia
The one of them contains my picture, prince:
If you choose that, then I am yours withal.
Morocco
Some god direct my judgment! Let me see;
I will survey the inscriptions back again.
What says this leaden casket?
'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
Must give: for what? for lead? hazard for lead?
This casket threatens. Men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages:
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross;
I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead.
What says the silver with her virgin hue?
'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
As much as he deserves! Pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand:
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady:
And yet to be afeard of my deserving
Were but a weak disabling of myself.
As much as I deserve! Why, that's the lady:
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces and in qualities of breeding;
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no further, but chose here?
Let's see once more this saying graved in gold
'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.'
Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her;
From the four corners of the earth they come,
To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint:
The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now
For princes to come view fair Portia:
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits, but they come,
As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
Is't like that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation
To think so base a thought: it were too gross
To rib her cereclothDefinitionwaxed cloth for wrapping a corpseSource: C.T. Onions (1911) in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think in silver she's immured,
Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
A coin that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that's insculp'd upon;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within. Deliver me the key:
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!
Portia
There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there,
Then I am yours.
He unlocks the golden casket.
Morocco
O hell! what have we here?
A carrionDefinitiondead and decaying flesh / corpseSource: A. Schmidt (1874) Death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll! I'll read the writing.
All that glisters is not goldThematic AnalysisThe central lesson of the caskets: Appearance vs. Reality. Morocco was fooled by the shiny exterior, just as Shylock is judged by his religion and appearance.;
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms infold.
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscroll'd:
Fare you well; your suit is cold.
Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!
Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.
Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets.
Portia
A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go.
Let all of his complexion choose me so.
Exeunt.
Scene 8
Venice. A street. Enter SALARINO and SOLANIO.
Salarino
Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail:
With him is Gratiano gone along;
And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.
Solanio
The villain Jew with outcries raised the duke,
Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.
Salarino
He came too late, the ship was under sail:
But there the duke was given to understand
That in a gondola were seen together
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica.
Besides, Antonio certified the duke
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
Solanio
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!
Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats!
Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter!
And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones,
Stolen by my daughter! Justice! find the girl!
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.'
Salarino
Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
Solanio
Let good Antonio look he keep his day,
Or he shall pay for this.
Salarino
Marry, well remember'd.
I reason'd 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 wish'd in silence that it were not his.
Solanio
You were best to tell Antonio what you hear;
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
Salarino
A kinder gentleman treads not the earth.
I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:
Bassanio told him he would make some speed
Of his return: he answer'd, 'Do not so;
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time;
And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love:
Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtship and such fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently become you there:'
And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wondrous sensible
He wrung Bassanio's hand; and so they parted.
Solanio
I think he only loves the world for him.
I pray thee, let us go and find him out
And quicken his embraced heaviness
With some delight or other.
Salarino
Do we so.
Exeunt.
Scene 9
Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house. Enter NERISSA with a Servitor.
Nerissa
Quick, quick, I pray thee; draw the curtain straight:
The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath,
And comes to his election presently.
Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF ARRAGON, PORTIA, and their trains.
Portia
Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince:
If you choose that wherein I am contain'd,
Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized:
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
You must be gone from hence immediately.
Arragon
I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things:
First, never to unfold to any one
Which casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail
Of the right casket, never in my life
To woo a maid in way of marriage:
Lastly,
If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave you and be gone.
Portia
To these injunctions every one doth swear
That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
Arragon
And so have I address'd me. Fortune now
To my heart's hope! Gold; silver; and base lead.
'Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.'
You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard.
What says the golden chest? ha! let me see:
'Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.'
What many men desire! that 'many' may be meant
By the fool multitudeDefinitionthe uneducated common people / the mob, that choose by show,
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martletDefinitionmartin (bird) - often associated with foolishness in Shakespeare,
Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Even in the force and road of casualty.
I will not choose what many men desire,
Because I will not jump with common spirits
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house;
Tell me once more what title thou dost bear:
'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
And well said too; for who shall go about
To cozen fortune and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume
To wear an undeserved dignity.
O, that estates, degrees and offices
Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour
Were purchased by the merit of the wearer!
How many then should cover that stand bare!
How many be commanded that command!
How much low peasantry would then be glean'd
From the true seed of honour! and how much honour
Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times
To be new-varnish'd! Well, but to my choice:
'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.'
I will assume desert. Give me a key for this,
And instantly unlock my fortunes here.
He opens the silver casket.
Portia
Too long a pause for that which you find there.
Arragon
What's here? the portrait of a blinking idiot,
Presenting me a scheduleDefinitionwritten scroll / documentSource: C.T. Onions (1911)! I will read it.
How much unlike art thou to Portia!
How much unlike my hopes and my deservings!
'Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves.'
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize? are my deserts no better?
Portia
To offend, and judge, are distinct offices
And of opposed natures.
Arragon
What is here?
The fire seven times tried this:
Seven times tried that judgment is,
That did never choose amiss.
Some there be that shadows kiss;
Such have but a shadow's bliss:
There be fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd o'er; and so was this.
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So be gone: you are sped.
Still more fool I shall appear
By the time I linger here:
With one fool's head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.
Sweet, adieu. I'll keep my oath,
Patiently to bear my wroth.
Exeunt Arragon and train.
Portia
Thus hath the candle singed the moth.
O, these deliberate fools! when they do choose,
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.
Nerissa
The ancient saying is no heresy,
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
Portia
Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
Enter a Servant.
Servant
Where is my lady?
Portia
Here: what would my lord?
Servant
Madam, there is alighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before
To signify the approaching of his lord;
From whom he bringeth sensible regreets,
To wit, besides commends and courteous breath,
Gifts of rich value. Yet 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 fore-spurrer comes before his lord.
Portia
No more, I pray thee: I am half afeard
Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee,
Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him.
Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see
Quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly.
Nerissa
Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be!
Exeunt.
Critical Frameworks & Sources
The analysis notes in this act rely on the following historical and philosophical concepts:
The Three Caskets: Drawn from the Gesta Romanorum, a medieval collection of folktales. Shakespeare uses them to explore the theme of appearance versus reality (Gold/Silver vs. Lead).
Anti-Semitism in Elizabethan England: Shylock's treatment by the other characters (being called "dog," "devil," and having his daughter "stolen") reflects the deep-seated prejudices of Shakespeare's audience, complexified by Shylock's articulate grief.
Fathers and Daughters: A recurring Shakespearean conflict. Jessica's rebellion against Shylock ("I am a daughter to his blood, I am not to his manners") contrasts with Portia's obedience to her dead father's will regarding the caskets.