Selections from:
The Merchant of Venice:
A Contemporary English Version, by Jonathan Star
ACT ONE - Scene One
Venice. Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Salanio.
______________________________________________________
[this opening dialogue is not found in the original play. Iit was added
to clarify the play's central conflict, which is over usury not religion]
{{—Antonio
I know this hatred mocks° all Christian virtue / hate befouls / hatred fouls
But they I loathe: their very sight abhors me.
They are° but vile infractions° of nature, / They’re none // infracts
A plague on all that is righteous and good.
And the contracts they use to loan out money,
Made ‘neath the guile of friendship and trust
Are none but instruments of fell deceit.
They would have men sign bonds to borrow money,
And if the sums are° not repaid on time / loan is
Then, as forfeit, they would take everything;
All that a man has earned in his lifetime
Would come to naught and end in tearful ruin.
‘Tis an obscene,° despisèd greed they show— / It is a foul
These heartless usurers. There is a place° / There’s a special place
In hell made just° for them. / reserved
— Salanio Those damnèd° Jews. / cursèd
—Antonio
No, ‘tis no Jewish thing this usury—
‘Tis but a godless thing; a cursèd° thing, / godless / damnèd
An aberration felling Jew and gentile—° / A thing bereft of all humanity
A wretched thing. Enough of my complaints
You know them° well. / it
—Salarino And so we do, Antonio,
But here this face so sad, ‘tis not a sight° / thing / face
We know so well.° Why look ye so, my friend? }}
______________________________________________________
—Antonio
In sooth,° I know not why I am so sad.° / truth
[It wearies me, I know° it wearies you;] {you say} / I think / it must
Yet how I caught it, found it, or came by it, {But}
What stuff ‘tis made of, whereof it is born,
{And why it lingers on} I’ve yet to learn.
[And such a want-wit sadness makes of me ]
[That I have much ado to know myself.]
—Salarino
Your mind is tossing on the ocean.
There [pointing] are your argosies° with portly sails— / grand vessels
Streaming° upon the wave° like proud maestros° / Moving {flood} / sea
Or like the grand displays at a sea pageant.
See how they rise above° the smaller ships° {overpeer} // petty boats
That curtsy° to them in awe and reverence / bow down / prostrate
As they fly by with their grand, woven wings.
{Ah, what a sight it is! }
—Salanio Believe me, sir,
Were I involved in such ventures abroad
The better part of my affections would° / concerns would surely
Be with my hopes° abroad. And everyday° / ships // I’d ever be
I’d toss the grass° to know where blows the wind,° / Tossing // which way the winds blows
And peer° in maps for ports and piers and roads— / Peering
And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my enterprise,° no doubt, / undertaking / venture, there’s no
Would make me sad.° / Would cause concern
—Salarino My breath,° cooling my broth,° {wind} / soup
Would blow me to a shiver° when I thought {an ague} / a frenzy / into a chill
What harm a wind, too great, might do at sea.
Each time I saw the sandy hour-glass run,
I’d think of shallow flats and sandy banks,
And see my ship, the Andrew,° docked in sand, / my wealthy Andrew
With her top-sail a-hung° below her ribs—° / hanging / fallen // hull
Kissing her grave just like a burial shroud. / Laying upon her burial like a shroud
And should I go to church, instead of praying,
I’d see the holy edifice of stone
And straightaway bethink of dangerous rocks° / me of the rocks
Which, by a mere touch° of my vessel’s side, / gentle stroke
Would spread her cache° of spice upon the wave, / prize
And robe the roaring waters with her silk--
Thus,° in a word,° reduce my worth to naught. / And // in sum, ‘twould
Had I the mind° to think on all of this, / Should I have thoughts
And should I think on all that could go wrong,
I, too, would have a mind o’ercome° by sadness.° / besieged // with worry
So tell me not: I know Antonio
Is sad to think upon° his parlous ventures.° / Is worrisome about
// {merchandise} / risky ventures
ACT ONE - Scene Two 1.2.0
Portia’s house at Belmont. Enter Portia with her waiting-woman, Nerissa.
—Portia
By my word, 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 are your good fortunes. And yet, for all I see, those who indulge with too much are as sick as those who starve with too little. It is the means to happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean. Excess is soon accompanied by gray hairs, while moderation brings longer life.
—Portia
Wise words and well-delivered.
—Nerissa
They would be better if well-followed.
—Portia
If to do good were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels would be churches {to hold all the worshipers}, and poor men’s cottages princely palaces {from all the funds given in charity}. It is a good preacher who follows his own sermon. I could easier teach twenty others what were good to be done than to be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws to control one’s passion, but hot desire leaps o’er a cold decree. Such a hare is folly—the youth—that skips o’er the traps of good counsel—the cripple. But such insight is not going to find me a husband of my choosing. O me, the word, ‘choose.’ I may neither chose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike. So is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that there is none I can chose, nor none I can refuse?
—Nerissa
Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men nearing death have good inspirations. Therefore, the lott’ry that he hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead, wherein the one who chooses the right chest—according to its inscription—chooses you, will no doubt, never be chosen rightly by one whom you shall not rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?
—Portia
I pray thee, name them once again; and as thou namest them, I will describe them, and, according to my description, level {a guess} at my affection.
—Nerissa
First there is the Neapolitan prince.
—Portia
Ay, there’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he counts it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe the horse himself. I am much afeard, my lady, that his mother had a good ride upon the blacksmith!
—Neriss
Then there is the Count Palatine.
—Portia
He does nothing but frown {all day}, as if to say: ‘You would rather not have me choose.’ {He courts sadness and that is what he finds}. He hears a merry tale yet does not smile. I fear he will prove {to be}° the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I would rather be married to a skull with a bone in its mouth than to either of these. God protect me from these two!
—Nerissa
What° say you by the French lord, Monsieur le Bon? {How}
—Portia
God made him, so 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 and a frown more formidable than the Count Palantine. As he is no one, he tries to be everyone. At the song of a sparrow, he dances straight-away like a puppet. Afraid of his own shadow, he draws a sword to fence with it. If I should marry him, I’d have to marry twenty of him to have one husband. If he would reject me I would return the favor; but should he fall madly in love with me, that I shall never requite.
ACT ONE - Scene Three
Venice. Enter Bassanio and Shylock.
—Shylock
Three thousand ducats—yes°? {well} / good / alright
—Bassanio
Ay sir, for three months.
—Shylock
For three months—yes°? {well} / good / alright
—Bassanio
For which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.
—Shylock.
Antonio shall be bound—yes°? {well} / good / alright
—Bassanio
Can you help me? Will you do me this favor? 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 ever heard any imputation° to the contrary? / accusation / charge
—Shylock
Oh, no, no, no, no. What I mean in saying, ‘he is a good man,’ is to have you understand that he is sufficient {to cover the loan}. Yet his means are in question. He hath an argosy bound for Tripolis, another to the Indies. I understand, moreover, from word on the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a forth for England, and other ventures he hath scattered about. Yet ships are but boards, sailors but men. There be land rats and water rats, land thieves and water thieves—I mean pirates. And then there is the peril of the water, wind, and rocks. The man is nonetheless sufficient. Three thousand ducats—I think I may take his bond.
—Bassanio
Be assured you may.° / With assurance you may
—Shylock
I will be assured I may; and that I may be assured, I will think it over. May I speak with Antonio?
— Bassanio
If it please you to dine with us.
—Shylock
Yes, to smell pork, to eat of the swine 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 forth—but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here?
Enter Antonio
—Bassanio
It is° Signior Antonio. {this is} / Here comes
⌈Bassanio goes over to Antonio and they converse in private.⌉
—Shylock [aside]
{Here comes the royal merchant}—how much more / closer / keener
Does he resemble° a fawning innkeeper,° / look like / an obsequious servant
{Ready° to fill his friend’s every need.} / Seeking / Trying
How I do hate his Christian hypocrisy° / this Christian kind of affect
But more, for that in° low simplicity° / for in his / simple ignorance / simple-mindedness
He lends out money gratis and brings down
The rate of interest° here with us in Venice. {usance}
If I can catch him once upon the hip° / at a disadvantage / at my advantage
I will feed fat° the ancient grudge I bear him. / exploit / I’ll gratify
He hates our sacred nation; and even
Where merchants most do congregate°, he rails / meet to do business
On me, my bargains,° and my well-earned profit, / contracts / business {well-won thrift}
Which he calls, ‘usury.’° Cursèd be my tribe {interest}
If I forgive him.
—Bassanio Shylock, do you hear?
—Shylock
I am considering° my present store, {debating of} / consid’ring of
ACT TWO - Scene One
Portia’s house in Belmont.
A flourish of cornets. Enter the Prince from Morocco (a dark-skinned Moor dressed in white), and three or four followers (of similar complexion) with Portia, Nerissa, and attendants
—Morocco
Mislike° me not for my complexion;° / Dislike / dark complexion
This darkened raiment° of the burnished° sun {shadowed livery} // burning
Is worn by all who breed° so near° its fire. / who live // beneath
Bring me a man whose skin is light and fair,
Born° from the coldest regions of the north,
Where the sun’s heat° can scarce thaw the icicles,° / fire // scarcely thaw the ice
And let us make a cut,° at love’s behest, / cut our skin // request
To prove whose blood is reddest—his or mine.
I tell thee, lady,° this aspect° of mine / I say, dear lady // feature
Has brought much fear to brave and valiant men.
And by my love, I swear, it too was loved
By the most-honored virgins of our clime.° / region / climate
I would not change this dark and noble hue,
Except to steal° your thoughts, my gentle queen. / know
—Portia
In terms of choice, I am not solely led
By that which gratifies° a maiden’s eye. / By what is pleasing to
Besides the contest rendered° by my father / devised / designed
Bars me the right° of voluntary choosing. / Prevents my right
But if my father had not scanted° me, / thwarted / shorted
And bound° me by his will to yield° myself, {hedged} / forced / give
As wife, to he who chooses° the right casket / whom so chooses / whom doth choose
Then you great prince, would stand as fair a chance
As any comer° I have looked on yet° / suitor // I’ve yet looked upon
For my affection.° / To win my favor
—Morocco Even for that I thank you.
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets
To try my fortune. By this scimitar / Arab(ian) sword
That slew the Sultan° and a Persian Prince, {Sophy} / Emp’ror / great Shah
That thrice defeated the great Suleiman,° / the Sultan of Turkey
I would o’er-stare the sternest° eyes that look, / harshest
Outbrave the boldest heart that e’er did beat;
Pluck° the young suckling cubs from the she-bear, / Snatch / grab
Yea, mock° the lion when it° roars for prey, / Defy {he}
To win thee, lady. But alas the while,
If Hercules and his servant play dice,
The hand of chance decides the better man° / determines the victor / winner
Which may grant victory° to the weaker hand: / fortune / triumph
So is the hero beaten° by his page. {bested}
And so may I, blind fortune° leading me, / with mere chance
Miss that which one of lesser worth° attains— {one unworthier may}
And die with° grieving. / from
—Portia You must take your chance,°
And either not attempt to chose at all,
Or swear before you choose,° if you choose wrong, / beforehand, that
To ne’er thereafter° take a lady’s hand / propose to a lady
By° way of marriage. Therefore, be advised.° {In} / ponder well / be so warned
—Morocco
I need not.° Come, bring me unto my chance.° {Nor will not} // the caskets / my choice
—Portia
First forward to° the altar,° {there to take / go ye to / go unto {temple} / chapel
The solemn oath required}. After dinner
Your hazard shall be made.
—Morocco Good fortune then,
To make me° blest or curséd’st among men. / To be most
Flourish of cornets. Exeunt
________________________________________________ [Optional Added Scene]
ACT Two, Scene One, A 2.1A
Venice. Enter Shylock and Tubal
—Tubal
Three thousand ducats, with no profit—and to Antonio?
—Shylock
Indeed he loathes me, my means, my presence. He spits upon my face; he calls me usurer, a cut-throat, a dog. And why? Because I loan money to those who need it. Well, now Antonio is the one who needs it.
—Tubal
But you are tying up so many ducats?
—Shylock
Let him revile me at the mart. Let him peddle his Christian virtue. How then will I respond? I will politely ask: ‘Antonio, did you not once borrow money from me? Did you not need the money which I had? Did I not loan you money, gratis, which you requested of me? ’ What then could he say to that? Would he open his mouth to speak? Would he spit on me again? Nay. The moment Antonio seals this bond we are equals. He will have nothing over me.
—Tubal
And what will come if he forfeits? What then?
—Shylock
Nay, nay, Antonio will not forfeit. Nay, there is no chance that Antonio will forfeit. The only thing he will forfeit is his Christian arrogance—and he will forfeit that the moment he seals unto my bond.
—Tubal
But why a pound of flesh? Such terms are strange and most unseemly?
—Shylock
I offered friendship—yet he refused. I offered love, and to forgive his years of abuse—yet he refused. He would not even hear me. All he offered in kind was to spit on my face and call me ‘dog’ once again. I offered—yet he refused. He wanted to be my enemy, for me to loan him money on those terms. So you ask, ‘why a pound of flesh? Why something so grotesque?’ I say, if nothing else then to humiliate him—to debase him as he has debased me. Let him call me usurer; I will call him harlot. He has put up his body for money, my money. Now tell me, what would a good Christian say to that?
The Merchant of Venice:
A Contemporary English Version, by Jonathan Star
ACT ONE - Scene One
Venice. Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Salanio.
______________________________________________________
[this opening dialogue is not found in the original play. Iit was added
to clarify the play's central conflict, which is over usury not religion]
{{—Antonio
I know this hatred mocks° all Christian virtue / hate befouls / hatred fouls
But they I loathe: their very sight abhors me.
They are° but vile infractions° of nature, / They’re none // infracts
A plague on all that is righteous and good.
And the contracts they use to loan out money,
Made ‘neath the guile of friendship and trust
Are none but instruments of fell deceit.
They would have men sign bonds to borrow money,
And if the sums are° not repaid on time / loan is
Then, as forfeit, they would take everything;
All that a man has earned in his lifetime
Would come to naught and end in tearful ruin.
‘Tis an obscene,° despisèd greed they show— / It is a foul
These heartless usurers. There is a place° / There’s a special place
In hell made just° for them. / reserved
— Salanio Those damnèd° Jews. / cursèd
—Antonio
No, ‘tis no Jewish thing this usury—
‘Tis but a godless thing; a cursèd° thing, / godless / damnèd
An aberration felling Jew and gentile—° / A thing bereft of all humanity
A wretched thing. Enough of my complaints
You know them° well. / it
—Salarino And so we do, Antonio,
But here this face so sad, ‘tis not a sight° / thing / face
We know so well.° Why look ye so, my friend? }}
______________________________________________________
—Antonio
In sooth,° I know not why I am so sad.° / truth
[It wearies me, I know° it wearies you;] {you say} / I think / it must
Yet how I caught it, found it, or came by it, {But}
What stuff ‘tis made of, whereof it is born,
{And why it lingers on} I’ve yet to learn.
[And such a want-wit sadness makes of me ]
[That I have much ado to know myself.]
—Salarino
Your mind is tossing on the ocean.
There [pointing] are your argosies° with portly sails— / grand vessels
Streaming° upon the wave° like proud maestros° / Moving {flood} / sea
Or like the grand displays at a sea pageant.
See how they rise above° the smaller ships° {overpeer} // petty boats
That curtsy° to them in awe and reverence / bow down / prostrate
As they fly by with their grand, woven wings.
{Ah, what a sight it is! }
—Salanio Believe me, sir,
Were I involved in such ventures abroad
The better part of my affections would° / concerns would surely
Be with my hopes° abroad. And everyday° / ships // I’d ever be
I’d toss the grass° to know where blows the wind,° / Tossing // which way the winds blows
And peer° in maps for ports and piers and roads— / Peering
And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my enterprise,° no doubt, / undertaking / venture, there’s no
Would make me sad.° / Would cause concern
—Salarino My breath,° cooling my broth,° {wind} / soup
Would blow me to a shiver° when I thought {an ague} / a frenzy / into a chill
What harm a wind, too great, might do at sea.
Each time I saw the sandy hour-glass run,
I’d think of shallow flats and sandy banks,
And see my ship, the Andrew,° docked in sand, / my wealthy Andrew
With her top-sail a-hung° below her ribs—° / hanging / fallen // hull
Kissing her grave just like a burial shroud. / Laying upon her burial like a shroud
And should I go to church, instead of praying,
I’d see the holy edifice of stone
And straightaway bethink of dangerous rocks° / me of the rocks
Which, by a mere touch° of my vessel’s side, / gentle stroke
Would spread her cache° of spice upon the wave, / prize
And robe the roaring waters with her silk--
Thus,° in a word,° reduce my worth to naught. / And // in sum, ‘twould
Had I the mind° to think on all of this, / Should I have thoughts
And should I think on all that could go wrong,
I, too, would have a mind o’ercome° by sadness.° / besieged // with worry
So tell me not: I know Antonio
Is sad to think upon° his parlous ventures.° / Is worrisome about
// {merchandise} / risky ventures
ACT ONE - Scene Two 1.2.0
Portia’s house at Belmont. Enter Portia with her waiting-woman, Nerissa.
—Portia
By my word, 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 are your good fortunes. And yet, for all I see, those who indulge with too much are as sick as those who starve with too little. It is the means to happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean. Excess is soon accompanied by gray hairs, while moderation brings longer life.
—Portia
Wise words and well-delivered.
—Nerissa
They would be better if well-followed.
—Portia
If to do good were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels would be churches {to hold all the worshipers}, and poor men’s cottages princely palaces {from all the funds given in charity}. It is a good preacher who follows his own sermon. I could easier teach twenty others what were good to be done than to be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws to control one’s passion, but hot desire leaps o’er a cold decree. Such a hare is folly—the youth—that skips o’er the traps of good counsel—the cripple. But such insight is not going to find me a husband of my choosing. O me, the word, ‘choose.’ I may neither chose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike. So is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that there is none I can chose, nor none I can refuse?
—Nerissa
Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men nearing death have good inspirations. Therefore, the lott’ry that he hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead, wherein the one who chooses the right chest—according to its inscription—chooses you, will no doubt, never be chosen rightly by one whom you shall not rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?
—Portia
I pray thee, name them once again; and as thou namest them, I will describe them, and, according to my description, level {a guess} at my affection.
—Nerissa
First there is the Neapolitan prince.
—Portia
Ay, there’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he counts it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe the horse himself. I am much afeard, my lady, that his mother had a good ride upon the blacksmith!
—Neriss
Then there is the Count Palatine.
—Portia
He does nothing but frown {all day}, as if to say: ‘You would rather not have me choose.’ {He courts sadness and that is what he finds}. He hears a merry tale yet does not smile. I fear he will prove {to be}° the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I would rather be married to a skull with a bone in its mouth than to either of these. God protect me from these two!
—Nerissa
What° say you by the French lord, Monsieur le Bon? {How}
—Portia
God made him, so 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 and a frown more formidable than the Count Palantine. As he is no one, he tries to be everyone. At the song of a sparrow, he dances straight-away like a puppet. Afraid of his own shadow, he draws a sword to fence with it. If I should marry him, I’d have to marry twenty of him to have one husband. If he would reject me I would return the favor; but should he fall madly in love with me, that I shall never requite.
ACT ONE - Scene Three
Venice. Enter Bassanio and Shylock.
—Shylock
Three thousand ducats—yes°? {well} / good / alright
—Bassanio
Ay sir, for three months.
—Shylock
For three months—yes°? {well} / good / alright
—Bassanio
For which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.
—Shylock.
Antonio shall be bound—yes°? {well} / good / alright
—Bassanio
Can you help me? Will you do me this favor? 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 ever heard any imputation° to the contrary? / accusation / charge
—Shylock
Oh, no, no, no, no. What I mean in saying, ‘he is a good man,’ is to have you understand that he is sufficient {to cover the loan}. Yet his means are in question. He hath an argosy bound for Tripolis, another to the Indies. I understand, moreover, from word on the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a forth for England, and other ventures he hath scattered about. Yet ships are but boards, sailors but men. There be land rats and water rats, land thieves and water thieves—I mean pirates. And then there is the peril of the water, wind, and rocks. The man is nonetheless sufficient. Three thousand ducats—I think I may take his bond.
—Bassanio
Be assured you may.° / With assurance you may
—Shylock
I will be assured I may; and that I may be assured, I will think it over. May I speak with Antonio?
— Bassanio
If it please you to dine with us.
—Shylock
Yes, to smell pork, to eat of the swine 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 forth—but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto? Who is he comes here?
Enter Antonio
—Bassanio
It is° Signior Antonio. {this is} / Here comes
⌈Bassanio goes over to Antonio and they converse in private.⌉
—Shylock [aside]
{Here comes the royal merchant}—how much more / closer / keener
Does he resemble° a fawning innkeeper,° / look like / an obsequious servant
{Ready° to fill his friend’s every need.} / Seeking / Trying
How I do hate his Christian hypocrisy° / this Christian kind of affect
But more, for that in° low simplicity° / for in his / simple ignorance / simple-mindedness
He lends out money gratis and brings down
The rate of interest° here with us in Venice. {usance}
If I can catch him once upon the hip° / at a disadvantage / at my advantage
I will feed fat° the ancient grudge I bear him. / exploit / I’ll gratify
He hates our sacred nation; and even
Where merchants most do congregate°, he rails / meet to do business
On me, my bargains,° and my well-earned profit, / contracts / business {well-won thrift}
Which he calls, ‘usury.’° Cursèd be my tribe {interest}
If I forgive him.
—Bassanio Shylock, do you hear?
—Shylock
I am considering° my present store, {debating of} / consid’ring of
ACT TWO - Scene One
Portia’s house in Belmont.
A flourish of cornets. Enter the Prince from Morocco (a dark-skinned Moor dressed in white), and three or four followers (of similar complexion) with Portia, Nerissa, and attendants
—Morocco
Mislike° me not for my complexion;° / Dislike / dark complexion
This darkened raiment° of the burnished° sun {shadowed livery} // burning
Is worn by all who breed° so near° its fire. / who live // beneath
Bring me a man whose skin is light and fair,
Born° from the coldest regions of the north,
Where the sun’s heat° can scarce thaw the icicles,° / fire // scarcely thaw the ice
And let us make a cut,° at love’s behest, / cut our skin // request
To prove whose blood is reddest—his or mine.
I tell thee, lady,° this aspect° of mine / I say, dear lady // feature
Has brought much fear to brave and valiant men.
And by my love, I swear, it too was loved
By the most-honored virgins of our clime.° / region / climate
I would not change this dark and noble hue,
Except to steal° your thoughts, my gentle queen. / know
—Portia
In terms of choice, I am not solely led
By that which gratifies° a maiden’s eye. / By what is pleasing to
Besides the contest rendered° by my father / devised / designed
Bars me the right° of voluntary choosing. / Prevents my right
But if my father had not scanted° me, / thwarted / shorted
And bound° me by his will to yield° myself, {hedged} / forced / give
As wife, to he who chooses° the right casket / whom so chooses / whom doth choose
Then you great prince, would stand as fair a chance
As any comer° I have looked on yet° / suitor // I’ve yet looked upon
For my affection.° / To win my favor
—Morocco Even for that I thank you.
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets
To try my fortune. By this scimitar / Arab(ian) sword
That slew the Sultan° and a Persian Prince, {Sophy} / Emp’ror / great Shah
That thrice defeated the great Suleiman,° / the Sultan of Turkey
I would o’er-stare the sternest° eyes that look, / harshest
Outbrave the boldest heart that e’er did beat;
Pluck° the young suckling cubs from the she-bear, / Snatch / grab
Yea, mock° the lion when it° roars for prey, / Defy {he}
To win thee, lady. But alas the while,
If Hercules and his servant play dice,
The hand of chance decides the better man° / determines the victor / winner
Which may grant victory° to the weaker hand: / fortune / triumph
So is the hero beaten° by his page. {bested}
And so may I, blind fortune° leading me, / with mere chance
Miss that which one of lesser worth° attains— {one unworthier may}
And die with° grieving. / from
—Portia You must take your chance,°
And either not attempt to chose at all,
Or swear before you choose,° if you choose wrong, / beforehand, that
To ne’er thereafter° take a lady’s hand / propose to a lady
By° way of marriage. Therefore, be advised.° {In} / ponder well / be so warned
—Morocco
I need not.° Come, bring me unto my chance.° {Nor will not} // the caskets / my choice
—Portia
First forward to° the altar,° {there to take / go ye to / go unto {temple} / chapel
The solemn oath required}. After dinner
Your hazard shall be made.
—Morocco Good fortune then,
To make me° blest or curséd’st among men. / To be most
Flourish of cornets. Exeunt
________________________________________________ [Optional Added Scene]
ACT Two, Scene One, A 2.1A
Venice. Enter Shylock and Tubal
—Tubal
Three thousand ducats, with no profit—and to Antonio?
—Shylock
Indeed he loathes me, my means, my presence. He spits upon my face; he calls me usurer, a cut-throat, a dog. And why? Because I loan money to those who need it. Well, now Antonio is the one who needs it.
—Tubal
But you are tying up so many ducats?
—Shylock
Let him revile me at the mart. Let him peddle his Christian virtue. How then will I respond? I will politely ask: ‘Antonio, did you not once borrow money from me? Did you not need the money which I had? Did I not loan you money, gratis, which you requested of me? ’ What then could he say to that? Would he open his mouth to speak? Would he spit on me again? Nay. The moment Antonio seals this bond we are equals. He will have nothing over me.
—Tubal
And what will come if he forfeits? What then?
—Shylock
Nay, nay, Antonio will not forfeit. Nay, there is no chance that Antonio will forfeit. The only thing he will forfeit is his Christian arrogance—and he will forfeit that the moment he seals unto my bond.
—Tubal
But why a pound of flesh? Such terms are strange and most unseemly?
—Shylock
I offered friendship—yet he refused. I offered love, and to forgive his years of abuse—yet he refused. He would not even hear me. All he offered in kind was to spit on my face and call me ‘dog’ once again. I offered—yet he refused. He wanted to be my enemy, for me to loan him money on those terms. So you ask, ‘why a pound of flesh? Why something so grotesque?’ I say, if nothing else then to humiliate him—to debase him as he has debased me. Let him call me usurer; I will call him harlot. He has put up his body for money, my money. Now tell me, what would a good Christian say to that?
