Imatges de pàgina
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Than is thy ftrange apparent cruelty.
And, where thou now exact'ft the penalty,

Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only lose the forfeiture,

But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;
Glancing an eye of pity on his loffes,
That have of late fo hudled on his back,
Enough to prefs a royal merchant down;
And pluck commiferation of his state
From braffy bofoms, and rough hearts of flint;
From ftubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtefie.

We all expect a gentle anfwer, Jew.

Shy. I have poffefs'd your Grace of what I purpofe. And by our holy Sabbath have I fworn,

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 chufe to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats? I'll not answer that.
But fay, it is my humour; is it anfwer'd ?
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
To have it baned? what, are you answer'd yet?
Some men there are, love not a gaping pig;
Some, that are mad, if they behold a cat;
And others, when the bag-pipe fings i' th' nofe,
Cannot contain their urine for affection. (15)

(15) Cannot contain their Urine for Affection.

Mafterless paffion fways it to the Mood

Masterlefs

of what it likes, or loaths.] Masterlefs Paffion was first Mr. Rowe's Reading, (on what Authority, I am at a Lofs to know;) which Mr. Fope has fince copied. And tho' I have not difturb'd the Text, yet, I muft obferve, I don't know what Word there is to which this Relative [it, in the ad Line] is to be referr'd. The ingenious Dr. Thirlby, therefore, would thus djust the Paffage.

VOL. II.

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Cannot

Masterless paffion fways it to the mood

Of what it likes, or loaths. Now, for your answer :
As there is no firm reason to be render'd,

Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;
Why he, a harmless neceffary cat;
Why he, a woollen bag-pipe; but of force
Muft yield to fuch inevitable shame,
As to offend, himself being offended;
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing
I bear Anthonio, that I follow thus

A lofing fuit against him. Are you answer'd?
Baff. This is no anfwer, thou unfeeling man,

'T' excufe the current of thy cruelty.

Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my anfwer.

Baff. Do all men kill the thing they do not love?
Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?
Baff. Ev'ry offence is not a hate at first.

Shy. What, would't thou have a ferpent fting thee twice?

Ant. I pray you, think, you queftion with a Jew. You may as well go ftand upon the beach, And bid the main flood 'bate his ufual height. You may as well ufe queftion 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,

Cannot contain their Urine; for Affection,

* Mafter of Paffion, sways it &c. * Or, Mistress. And then it is govern'd of Passion: and the 2 old Quarto's and Folio's read. Mafters of Paffion, &c.

It may be objected, that Affection and Paffion are Synonomous Terms, and mean the fame Thing. I agree, they do at this time. But I obferve, the Writers of our Author's Age made a fort of Distinction: confidering the One as the Cause,

When they are fretted with the gufts of heav'n.
You may as well do any thing mot hard,

As feek to foften 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 few his will.
Baff. For thy three thousand ducats here is fix.
Shy. If ev'ry ducat in fix thousand ducats
Were in fix parts, and ev'ry part a ducat,

I would not draw them, I would have my bond.
Duke. How fhalt thou hope for mercy, rend'ring

none ?

Shy. What judgment fhall I dread, doing no wrong?
You have among you many a purchas'd flave,
Which, like your affes, and your dogs, and mules,
You use in abject and in flavish part,

Because you bought them. Shall I fay to you,
Let them be free, marry them to your heirs?
Why fweat they under burdens ? let their beds
Be made as foft as yours, and let their palates
Be feafon'd with fuch viands; you will answer,
The flaves 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 ftand for judgment; anfwer; fhall I have it?
Duke. Upon my pow'r I may dismiss this Court,
Unless Bellario, a learned Doctor,

Whom I have sent for to determine this,

Come here to day.

Sal. My lord, here ftays, without,

A meffenger with letters from the Doctor,
New come from Padua.

Duke. Bring us the letters, call the messenger.

Baff. Good cheer, Anthonio; what, man, courage

yet:

The Jew fhall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all,
Ere thou shalt lofe for me one drop of blood.

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Ant.

Ant. I am a tainted weather of the flock, Meeteft for death: the weakest kind of fruit Drops earliest to the ground, and fo let me. You cannot better be employ'd, Baffanio, Than to live ftill, and write mine epitaph.

Enter Neriffa, drefs'd like a Lawyer's Clerk. Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario? (16) Ner. From both, my lord: Bellario greets your Grace.

Baff. Why doft thou whet thy knife so earnestly?
Shy. To cut the forfeit from that bankrupt there.
Gre. Not on thy foale, but on thy foul, harsh
Few, (17)

Thou mak'ft thy knife keen; for no metal can,
No, not the hangman's ax, bear half the keennefs
Of thy fharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?
Shy. No, none that thou haft wit enough to make.
Gra. O be thou damn'd, inexorable dog,
And for thy life let juftice be accus'd!
Thou almoft mak'ft me waver in my faith,
To hold opinion with Pythagoras,
That fouls of animals infufe themselves
Into the trunks of men. Thy currish fpirit
Govern'd a wolf, who, hang'd for human flaughter,

(16) From both my Lord Bellario greets your Grace.] Thus the two old Folio's, and Mr. Pope in his Quarto, had inaccu rately pointed this Paffage, by which a Doctor of Laws was at once rais'd to the Dignity of the Peerage.

(17) Not on thy Soale, but on thy Soul, harsh Jew.] I was obliged, from the Authority of the old Folio's, to restore this Conceit, and Jingle-upon two Words alike in Sound, but differing in Sense. Gratiano thus rates the Jew; "Tho' thou thinkeft, that thou art whetting thy Knife on the Soale of thy Shoe, yet it is upon thy Soul, thy immortal Part, that " thou do'ft it, thou inexorable Man!" There is no room to doubt, but this was our Author's Antithefis; as it is fo ufual with him to play on Words in this manner: and That from the Mouth of his moft ferious Characters.

Ev'n from the gallows did his fell foul fleet,
And, whilft thou lay'ft in thy unhallow'd dam,
Infus'd it self in thee: for thy defires
Are wolfifh, bloody, ftarv'd, and ravenous.
Shy. "Till thou canft rail the feal from off my
Thou but offend'ft thy lungs to speak fo loud.
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
To cureless ruin. I ftand here for law.

bond,

Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend... young and learned doctor to our Court.. Where is he?

A

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
Go give him courteous conduct to this place :
Mean time, the Court fhall hear Bellario's letter.

You

you

YOUR Grace fhall understand, that, at the receipt of your letter, I am very fick: but at the infiant that your messenger came, in loving vifitation was with me a young Doctor of Rome, his Name is Balthafar: I acquainted him with the cause in controverfie between the Jew and Anthonio the merchant. We turn'd o'er many books together: he is furnished with my opinion, which, bettered with his own learning, (the greatnefs whereof I cannot enough commend,) comes with him at my importunity, to fill up your Grace's request in my ftead. I beseech you, let his lask of years be no impediment, to let him lack a reverend eftimation: For I never knew so young a body with fo old a head. I leave him to your gracious acceptance, whofe trial fhall better publish his com

mendation.

Enter Portia, dress'd like a Doctor of Laws.

Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he writes,
And here, I take it, is the Doctor come:

Give me your hand. Came you from old Bellaria?
Per. I did, my lord..

Duke. You're welcome: take your place...

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