The Merchant of Venice (4 page)

Location: Venice

Enter Antonio, Salerio and Solanio

ANTONIO
   In
sooth
¹
I know not why I am so sad.
     It wearies me, you say it wearies you;
     But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
     What
stuff
⁴
’tis made of, whereof it is born,
     I am
to learn
⁵
:
     And such a
want-wit
⁶
sadness makes of me
     That I have much
ado
⁷
to know myself.

SALERIO
   Your mind is
tossing on
⁸
the ocean,
     There where your
argosies
⁹
with portly sail
     Like
signiors
¹⁰
and rich burghers on the flood,
     Or as it were the
pageants
¹¹
of the sea,
     Do
overpeer
¹²
the petty traffickers
     That
curtsy
¹³
to them, do them reverence,
     As they
fly
¹⁴
by them with their woven wings.

SOLANIO
   Believe me, sir, had I such
venture
¹⁵
forth,
     The
better part
¹⁶
of my affections would
     Be with my
hopes
¹⁷
abroad. I should be still
     Plucking the grass to know
where sits
¹⁸
the wind,
     Peering in maps for ports and piers and
roads
¹⁹
,
     And every object that might make me fear
     Misfortune to my ventures out of doubt
     Would make me sad.

SALERIO
   My wind cooling my broth
     Would blow me to an
ague
²⁴
, when I thought
     What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
     
I
should
²⁶
not see the sandy hour-glass run,
     But I should think of shallows and of
flats
²⁷
,
     And see my wealthy
Andrew
²⁸
docked in sand,
     
Vailing
²⁹
her high top lower than her ribs
     To kiss her
burial
³⁰
; should I go to church
     And see the holy edifice of stone,
     And not
bethink me straight
³²
of dang’rous rocks,
     Which touching
but
³³
my gentle vessel’s side,
     Would scatter all her spices on the
stream
³⁴
,
     Enrobe the roaring
waters with my silks
³⁵
,
     And in a word, but
even
³⁶
now worth this,
     And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
     To think on this, and shall I lack the thought
     That such a thing
bechanced
³⁹
would make me sad?
     But tell not me, I know, Antonio
     Is sad to think upon his merchandise.

ANTONIO
   Believe me, no. I thank my fortune for it,
     My ventures are not in one
bottom
⁴³
trusted,
     Nor to one place; nor is my whole
estate
⁴⁴
     
Upon
⁴⁵
the fortune of this present year:
     Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.

SALERIO
   Why, then you are in love.

ANTONIO
   
Fie
⁴⁸
, fie!

SOLANIO
   Not in love neither: then let us say you are sad
     Because you are not merry; and ’twere as easy
     For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry
     Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed
Janus
⁵²
,
     Nature hath
framed
⁵³
strange fellows in her time:
     Some that will evermore
peep
⁵⁴
through their eyes
     
And laugh like parrots at a
bagpiper
⁵⁵
,
     And
other
⁵⁶
of such vinegar aspect
     That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile,
     
Though
⁵⁸
Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano

SOLANIO
   Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
     Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well,
     We leave you now with better company.

SALERIO
   I would have stayed till I had made you merry,
     If worthier friends had not
prevented
⁶³
me.

ANTONIO
   Your worth is very
dear
⁶⁴
in my regard.
     I take it your own business calls on you,
     And you
embrace
⁶⁶
th’occasion to depart.

SALERIO
   Good morrow, my good lords.

BASSANIO
   Good signiors both, when shall we
laugh
⁶⁸
? Say, when?
     You grow exceeding
strange
⁶⁹
. Must it be so?

SALERIO
   We’ll make our
leisures to attend on yours
⁷⁰
.

Exeunt Salerio and Solanio

LORENZO
   My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
     We two will leave you, but at dinnertime
     I pray you
have in mind
⁷³
where we must meet.

BASSANIO
   I will not fail you.

GRATIANO
   You look not well, Signior Antonio.
     You have too much
respect upon the world
⁷⁶
:
     They lose
it
⁷⁷
that do buy it with much care.
     Believe me, you are
marvellously
⁷⁸
changed.

ANTONIO
   I
hold
⁷⁹
the world but as the world, Gratiano,
     A stage where every man must play a part,
     And mine a sad one.

GRATIANO
   Let me play the fool:
     With mirth and laughter let
old
⁸³
wrinkles come,
     And let my
liver
⁸⁴
rather heat with wine
     Than my
heart cool with mortifying groans
⁸⁵
.
     Why should a man whose blood is warm within,
     Sit like his
grandsire
⁸⁷
cut in alabaster?
     Sleep when he wakes and
creep into the jaundices
⁸⁸
     By being
peevish
⁸⁹
? I tell thee what, Antonio—
     I love thee, and it is my love that speaks—
     There are a sort of men whose
visages
⁹¹
     Do
cream and mantle
⁹²
like a standing pond,
     And do a
wilful
⁹³
stillness entertain,
     With purpose to be
dressed in an opinion
⁹⁴
     Of wisdom, gravity, profound
conceit
⁹⁵
,
     
As who should say
⁹⁶
, ‘I am, sir, an oracle,
     And when I
ope
⁹⁷
my lips, let no dog bark!’
     O my Antonio, I do know of these
     That therefore only are reputed wise
     For saying nothing; when I am very sure
     If they should speak, would almost
damn those ears
     Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools
¹⁰¹
.
     I’ll tell thee more of this another time.
     But fish not with this
melancholy bait
¹⁰⁴
     For this
fool
¹⁰⁵
gudgeon, this opinion.
     Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile,
     I’ll end my
exhortation
¹⁰⁷
after dinner.

LORENZO
   Well, we will leave you then till dinnertime.

To Antonio and Bassanio

     I must be one of these same
dumb
¹⁰⁹
wise men,
     For Gratiano never lets me speak.

GRATIANO
   Well, keep me company but two years more,
     Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.

ANTONIO
   Fare you well, I’ll
grow
¹¹³
a talker for this gear.

GRATIANO
   Thanks, i’faith, for silence is only commendable
     In a
neat’s tongue dried
¹¹⁵
and a maid not vendible.

Exit
[
Gratiano with Lorenzo
]

ANTONIO
   
Is that anything now?
¹¹⁶

BASSANIO
   Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more
     than any man in all Venice. His
reasons
¹¹⁸
are two grains of
     wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day
ere
¹¹⁹
     you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth
     the search.

ANTONIO
   Well, tell me now, what lady is the
same
¹²²
     To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage
     That you today promised to tell me of?

BASSANIO
   ’Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
     How much I have
disabled
¹²⁶
mine estate
     By
something
¹²⁷
showing a more swelling port
     Than my
faint
¹²⁸
means would grant continuance.
     Nor do I now
make moan
¹²⁹
to be abridged
     From such a
noble rate
¹³⁰
, but my chief care
     Is to
come fairly off from
¹³¹
the great debts
     Wherein my
time
¹³²
something too prodigal
     Hath left me
gaged
¹³³
. To you, Antonio,
     I owe the most in money and in love,
     And from your love I have a
warranty
¹³⁵
     
To
unburden
¹³⁶
all my plots and purposes
     How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

ANTONIO
   I pray you good Bassanio, let me know it,
     And if it stand as you yourself still do,
     
Within the eye of honour
¹⁴⁰
, be assured
     My purse, my person, my extremest means,
     Lie all unlocked to your
occasions
¹⁴²
.

BASSANIO
   In my schooldays, when I had lost one
shaft
¹⁴³
,
     I shot
his fellow of the selfsame flight
¹⁴⁴
     The selfsame way with more
advisèd
¹⁴⁵
watch
     To find the other
forth
¹⁴⁶
, and by adventuring both
     I oft found both. I
urge
¹⁴⁷
this childhood proof
     Because what follows is pure
innocence
¹⁴⁸
.
     I owe you much and, like a wilful youth,
     That which I owe is lost. But if you please
     To shoot another arrow that
self
¹⁵¹
way
     Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
     As I will watch the aim,
or
¹⁵³
to find both,
     Or bring your latter
hazard
¹⁵⁴
back again,
     And thankfully
rest
¹⁵⁵
debtor for the first.

ANTONIO
   You know me well, and herein
spend but
¹⁵⁶
time
     To
wind about my love with circumstance
¹⁵⁷
,
     And
out of
¹⁵⁸
doubt you do me now more wrong
     In
making question of my uttermost
¹⁵⁹
     Than if you had
made waste
¹⁶⁰
of all I have.
     Then do
but
¹⁶¹
say to me what I should do
     That in your knowledge may by me be done,
     And I am
pressed
¹⁶³
unto it: therefore speak.

BASSANIO
   In Belmont is a lady
richly left
¹⁶⁴
,
     And she is fair and, fairer than that word,
     Of wondrous virtues.
Sometimes
¹⁶⁶
from her eyes
     I did receive fair speechless messages.
     Her name is Portia,
nothing undervalued
     To
¹⁶⁸
Cato
¹⁶⁹
’s daughter, Brutus’ Portia.
     Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
     For the four winds blow in from every coast
     Renownèd suitors, and her sunny locks
     Hang on her temples like a
golden fleece
¹⁷³
,
     Which makes her
seat
¹⁷⁴
of Belmont Colchos’ strand,
     And many Jasons come in quest of her.
     O my Antonio, had I but the means
     To hold a rival place with one of them,
     I have a mind
presages
¹⁷⁸
me such thrift,
     That I should
questionless
¹⁷⁹
be fortunate.

ANTONIO
   Thou know’st that all my fortunes are at sea,
     Neither have I money, nor
commodity
¹⁸¹
     To raise a
present
¹⁸²
sum: therefore go forth.
     
Try
¹⁸³
what my credit can in Venice do,
     That shall be
racked
¹⁸⁴
, even to the uttermost,
     To
furnish thee
¹⁸⁵
to Belmont, to fair Portia.
     Go
presently
¹⁸⁶
inquire, and so will I,
     Where money is, and I no question make
     To have it
of my trust
¹⁸⁸
or for my sake.

Exeunt

Location: Belmont

Enter Portia with her
waiting woman
, Nerissa

PORTIA
   By my
troth
¹
, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this
     great world.