Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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1.2 Enter Portia with Nerissa, her waiting-woman

PORTIA By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world.

NERISSA You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are; and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean. Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.

PORTIA Good sentences, and well pronounced.

NERISSA They would be better if well followed.

PORTIA If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions. I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done than to be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o‘er a cold decree. Such a hare is madness, the youth, to skip o’er the meshes of good counsel, the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband. O me, the word ‘choose’ I may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one nor refuse none?

NERISSA Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men at their death have good inspirations; therefore the lottery that he hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?

PORTIA I pray thee overname them, and as thou namest them I will describe them; and according to my description, level at my affection.

NERISSA First there is the Neapolitan prince.

PORTIA Ay, that’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse, and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe him himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother played false with a smith.

NERISSA Then is there the County Palatine.

PORTIA He doth nothing but frown, as who should say ‘An you will not have me, choose’. He hears merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death’s-head with a bone in his mouth than to either of these. God defend me from these two!

NERISSA How say you by the French lord, Monsieur le Bon?

PORTIA God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he—why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan‘s, a better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palatine. He is every man in no man. If a throstle sing, he falls straight a-cap’ring. He will fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to madness, I shall never requite him.

NERISSA What say you then to Falconbridge, the young baron of England?

PORTIA You know I say nothing to him, for he understands not me, nor I him. He hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian, and you will come into the court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man’s picture, but alas, who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour everywhere.

NERISSA What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour?

PORTIA That he hath a neighbourly charity in him, for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman and swore he would pay him again when he was able. I think the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another.

NERISSA How like you the young German, the Duke of Saxony’s nephew?

PORTIA Very vilely in the morning when he is sober, and most vilely in the afternoon when he is drunk. When he is best he is a little worse than a man, and when he is worst he is little better than a beast. An the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him.

NERISSA If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father’s will if you should refuse to accept him.

PORTIA Therefore, for fear of the worst, I 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. 102

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? III

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 Servingman

How now, what news?

SERVINGMAN 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. (To the Servingman) Sirrah, go before. Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, Another knocks at the door. Exeunt

1.3 Enter Bassanio with Shylock the Jew 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, water thieves and land 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 ⌈aside⌉ 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.

Enter Antonio

⌈To Antonio⌉ What news on the Rialto? ⌈To Bassanio⌉ Who is he comes here?

BASSANIO This is Signor Antonio.

⌈Bassanio and Antonio speak silently to one another⌉

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 signor.

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 possessed

How much ye would?

SHYLOCK Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.

ANTONIO And for three months.

SHYLOCK

I had forgot—three months. (To Bassanio) You told me

so.—

Well then, your bond; and let me see—but hear you,

Methoughts you said you neither lend nor borrow

Upon advantage.

ANTONIO I do never use it.

SHYLOCK

When Jacob grazed 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 int’rest. Mark what Jacob did:

When Laban and himself were compromised

That all the eanlings which were streaked and pied

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

In end of autumn turned to the rams, 80

And when the work of generation was

Between these woolly breeders in the act,

The skilful shepherd peeled me certain wands,

And in the doing of the deed of kind

He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes

Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time

Fall parti-coloured lambs; and those were Jacob’s.

This was a way to thrive; and he was blest;

And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.

ANTONIO

This was a venture, sir, that Jacob served for—

A thing not in his power to bring to pass,

But swayed and fashioned by the hand of heaven.

Was this inserted to make interest good,

Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?

SHYLOCK

I cannot tell. I make it breed as fast.

But note me, signor—

ANTONIO Mark you this, Bassanio?

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.

An evil soul producing holy witness

Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,

A goodly apple rotten at the heart.

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

SHYLOCK

Three thousand ducats. ’Tis a good round sum.

Three months from twelve—then let me see the rate.

ANTONIO

Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you?

SHYLOCK

Signor Antonio, many a time and oft

In the Rialto you have rated me

About my moneys and my usances.

Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,

For suff‘rance is the badge of all our tribe.

You call me misbeliever, cut-throat, dog, 110

And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,

And all for use of that which is mine own.

Well then, it now appears you need my help.

Go to, then. You come to me, and you say

‘Shylock, we would have moneys‘—you say so,

You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,

And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur

Over your threshold. Moneys is your suit.

What should I say to you? Should I not say

‘Hath a dog money? Is it possible

A cur can lend three thousand ducats?’ Or

Shall I bend low, and in a bondman’s key,

With bated breath and whisp’ring humbleness

Say this:‘Fair sir, you spat on me on Wednesday last;

You spurned me such a day; another time

You called me dog; and for these courtesies

I’ll lend you thus much moneys’?

ANTONIO

I am as like to call thee so again,

To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.

If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not

As to thy friends; for when did friendship take

A breed for barren metal of his friend?

But lend it rather to thine enemy,

Who if he break, thou mayst with better face

Exact the penalty.

SHYLOCK Why, look you, how you storm I

I would be friends with you, and have your love,

Forget the shames that you have stained me with,

Supply your present wants, and take no doit

Of usance for my moneys; and you’ll not hear me.

This is kind I offer.

BASSANIO This were kindness.

SHYLOCK This kindness will I show.

Go with me to a notary, seal me there

Your single bond, and, in a merry sport,

If you repay me not on such a day,

In such a place, such sum or sums as are

Expressed in the condition, let the forfeit

Be nominated for an equal pound

Of your fair flesh to be cut off and taken

In what part of your body pleaseth me.

ANTONIO

Content, in faith. I’ll seal to such a bond,

And say there is much kindness in the Jew.

BASSANIO

You shall not seal to such a bond for me.

I’ll rather dwell in my necessity.

ANTONIO

Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it.

Within these two months—that’s a month before

This bond expires—I do expect return

Of thrice three times the value of this bond.

SHYLOCK

O father Abram, what these Christians are,

Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect 160

The thoughts of others! (To Bassanio) Pray you tell me

this:

If he should break his day, what should I gain

By the exaction of the forfeiture?

A pound of man’s flesh taken from a man

Is not so estimable, profitable neither,

As flesh of muttons, beeves, or goats. I say,

To buy his favour I extend this friendship.

If he will take it, so. If not, adieu,

And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not.

ANTONIO

Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.

SHYLOCK

Then meet me forthwith at the notary’s.

Give him direction for this merry bond,

And I will go and purse the ducats straight,

See to my house—left in the fearful guard

Of an unthrifty knave—and presently

I’ll be with you.

ANTONIO Hie thee, gentle Jew. Exit Shylock

The Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind.

BASSANIO

I like not fair terms and a villain’s mind.

ANTONIO

Come on. In this there can be no dismay.

My ships come home a month before the day. Exeunt

2.1 ⌈Flourish of cornetts.⌉ Enter the Prince of Morocco, a tawny Moor all in white, and three or four followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerissa, and their train

MOROCCO (to Portia)

Mislike me not for my complexion,

The shadowed livery of the burnished sun,

To whom I am a neighbour and near bred.

Bring me the fairest creature northward born,

Where Phoebus’ fire scarce thaws the icicles,

And let us make incision for your love

To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.

I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine

Hath feared the valiant. By my love I swear,

The best regarded virgins of our clime

Have loved it too. I would not change this hue

Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.

PORTIA

In terms of choice I am not solely led

By nice direction of a maiden’s eyes.

Besides, the lott’ry of my destiny

Bars me the right of voluntary choosing.

But if my father had not scanted me,

And hedged me by his wit to yield myself

His wife who wins me by that means I told you,

Yourself, renowned Prince, then stood as fair

As any comer I have looked on yet

For my affection.

MOROCCO Even for that I thank you.

Therefore I pray you lead me to the caskets

To try my fortune. By this scimitar,

That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince

That won three fields of Sultan Suleiman,

I would o’erstare the sternest eyes that look,

Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,

Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,

Yea, mock the lion when a roars for prey,

To win the lady. But alas the while,

If Hercules and Lichas play at dice

Which is the better man, the greater throw

May turn by fortune from the weaker hand.

So is Alcides beaten by his rage,

And so may I, blind Fortune leading me,

Miss that which one unworthier may attain,

And die with grieving.

PORTIA You must take your chance,

And either not attempt to choose at all,

Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong

Never to speak to lady afterward

In way of marriage. Therefore be advised.

MOROCCO

Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance.

PORTIA

First, forward to the temple. After dinner

Your hazard shall be made.

MOROCCO Good fortune then,

To make me blest or cursèd’st among men.

⌈Flourish of cornetts.⌉ Exeunt

2.2 Enter Lancelot the clown

LANCELOT Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me, saying to me ‘Gobbo, Lancelot Gobbo, good Lancelot,’ or ‘good Gobbo,’ or ‘good Lancelot Gobbo—use your legs, take the start, run away.’ My conscience says ‘No, take heed, honest Lancelot, take heed, honest Gobbo,’ or, as aforesaid, ‘honest Lancelot Gobbo—do not run, scorn running with thy heels.’ Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack. ‘Via!’ says the fiend; ‘Away!’ says the fiend. ‘For the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,’ says the fiend, ‘and run.’ Well, my conscience hanging about the neck of my heart says very wisely to me, ‘My honest friend Lancelot’—being an honest man’s son, or rather an honest woman’s son, for indeed my father did something smack, something grow to; he had a kind of taste—well, my conscience says, ‘Lancelot, budge not’; ‘Budge!’ says the fiend; ‘Budge not’, says my conscience. ‘Conscience,’ say I, ‘you counsel well’; ‘Fiend,’ say I, ‘you counsel well.’ To be ruled by my conscience I should stay with the Jew my master who, God bless the mark, is a kind of devil; and to run away from the Jew I should be ruled by the fiend who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarnation; and in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly counsel. I will run, fiend. My heels are at your commandment. I will run.

Enter old Gobbo, ⌈blind,⌉ with a basket

GOBBO Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to Master Jew’s ?

LANCELOT (aside) O heavens, this is my true-begotten father who, being more than sand-blind—high-gravel-blind—knows me not. I will try confusions with him.

GOBBO Master young gentleman, I pray you which is the way to Master Jew’s ?

LANCELOT Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but at the next turning of all on your left, marry at the very next turning, turn of no hand but turn down indirectly to the Jew’s house.

GOBBO By God’s sonties, ’twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Lancelot that dwells with him dwell with him or no?

LANCELOT Talk you of young Master Lancelot? (Aside) Mark me now, now will I raise the waters. (To Gobbo) Talk you of young Master Lancelot?

GOBBO No master, sir, but a poor man’s son. His father, though I say’t, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

LANCELOT Well, let his father be what a will, we talk of young Master Lancelot.

GOBBO Your worship’s friend, and Lancelot, sir.

LANCELOT But I pray you, ergo old man, ergo I beseech you, talk you of young Master Lancelot?

GOBBO Of Lancelot, an’t please your mastership.

LANCELOT Ergo Master Lancelot. Talk not of Master Lancelot, father, for the young gentleman, according to fates and destinies and such odd sayings—the sisters three and such branches of learning—is indeed deceased; or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven.

GOBBO Marry, God forbid The boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop.

LANCELOT ⌈aside⌉ Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or a prop? (To Gobbo) Do you know me, father?

GOBBO Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman.

But I pray you tell me, is my boy-God rest his soul—

alive or dead?

LANCELOT Do you not know me, father?

GOBBO Alack, sir, I am sand-blind. I know you not.

LANCELOT Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes you might fail of the knowing me. It is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son. (Kneeling) Give me your blessing. Truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long—a man’s son may, but in the end truth will out.

GOBBO Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you are not Lancelot, my boy.

LANCELOT Pray you, let’s have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing. I am Lancelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be. 81

GOBBO I cannot think you are my son.

LANCELOT I know not what I shall think of that, but I am Lancelot the Jew’s man, and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother.

GOBBO Her name is Margery indeed. I’ll be sworn, if thou be Lancelot thou art mine own flesh and blood.

He feels Lancelot’s head

Lord worshipped might he be, what a beard hast thou got! Thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail. 90

LANCELOT It should seem then that Dobbin’s tail grows backward. I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I last saw him.

GOBBO Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present. How ’gree you now?

LANCELOT Well, well; but for mine own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground. My master’s a very Jew. Give him a present?—give him a halter! I am famished in his service. You may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come. Give me your present to one Master Bassanio, who indeed gives rare new liveries. If I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground.

Enter Bassanio with Leonardo and followers

O rare fortune! Here comes the man. To him, father, for I am a Jew if I serve the Jew any longer.

BASSANIO (toone of his men) You may do so, but let it be so hasted that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See these letters delivered, put the liveries to making, and desire Graziano to come anon to my lodging. Exit one

LANCELOT (to Gobbo) To him, father.

GOBBO (to Bassanio) God bless your worship.

BASSANIO Gramercy. Wouldst thou aught with me? 115

GOBBO Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy—

LANCELOT (to Bassanio) Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew’s man that would, sir, as my father shall specify.

GOBBO (to Bassiano) He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve—

LANCELOT Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a desire as my father shall specify.

GOBBO (to Bassiano) His master and he, saving your worship’s reverence, are scarce cater-cousins.

LANCELOT (to Bassiano) 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 (to Bassiano) I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship, and my suit is—

LANCELOT (to Bassiano) 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?

LANCELOT Serve you, sir.

GOBBO (to Bassiano) That is the very defect of the matter, sir.

BASSANIO (to Lancelot)

I know thee well. Thou hast obtained thy suit.

Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,

And hath preferred thee, if it be preferment

To leave a rich Jew’s service to become

The follower of so poor a gentleman.

LANCELOT 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. (To Gobbo) Go, father, with thy son.

(To Lancelot) Take leave of thy old master and enquire

My lodging out. (To one of his men) Give him a livery

More guarded than his fellows’. See it done. 150

LANCELOT (to Gobbo) Father, in. I cannot get a service, no, I have ne’er a tongue in my head—well!

He looks at his palm

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—a[as, 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 featherbed—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. Exit with old Gobbo

BASSANIO

I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.

These things being bought and orderly bestowed,

Return in haste, for I do feast tonight

My best-esteemed acquaintance. Hie thee. Go.

LEONARDO

My best endeavours shall be done herein.

He begins to leave. Enter Graziano

GRAZIANO (to Leonardo)

Where’s your master?

LEONARDO Yonder, sir, he walks. Exit

GRAZIANO

Signor Bassanio.

BASSANIO Graziano.

GRAZIANO

I have a suit to you.

BASSANIO You have obtained it.

GRAZIANO

You must not deny me. I must go with you to Belmont.

BASSANIO

Why then, you must. But hear thee, Graziano,

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 behaviour

I be misconstered in the place I go to, 180

And lose my hopes.

GRAZIANO Signor 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 185

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.

GRAZIANO

Nay, but I bar tonight. You shall not gauge me

By what we do tonight.

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.

GRAZIANO

And I must to Lorenzo and the rest.

But we will visit you at supper-time. Exeunt severally