How dost thou like the Lord Bassanio’s wife?

JESSICA

Past all expressing. It is very meet

The Lord Bassanio live an upright life,

For, having such a blessing in his lady,

He finds the joys of heaven here on earth,

And if on earth he do not merit it,

In reason he should never come to heaven.

Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match

And on the wager lay two earthly women,

And Portia one, there must be something else

Pawned with the other; for the poor rude world

Hath not her fellow.

LORENZO Even such a husband

Hast thou of me as she is for a wife.

JESSICA

Nay, but ask my opinion too of that!

LORENZO

I will anon. First let us go to dinner.

JESSICA

Nay, let me praise you while I have a stomach.

LORENZO

No, pray thee, let it serve for table-talk.

Then, howsome‘er thou speak’st, ’mong other things

I shall digest it.

JESSICA Well, I’ll set you forth. Exeunt

4.1 Enter the Duke, the magnificoes, Antonio, Bassanio, Graziano, and Salerio

DUKE

What, is Antonio here?

ANTONIO Ready, so please your grace.

DUKE

I am sorry for thee. Thou art come to answer

A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch

Uncapable of pity, void and empty

From any dram of mercy.

ANTONIO I have heard

Your grace hath ta’en great pains to qualify

His rigorous course, but since he stands obdurate,

And that no lawful means can carry me

Out of his envy’s reach, I do oppose

My patience to his fury, and am armed

To suffer with a quietness of spirit

The very tyranny and rage of his.

DUKE

Go one, and call the Jew into the court.

SALERIO

He is ready at the door. He comes, my lord.

Enter Shylock

DUKE

Make room, and let him stand before our face.

Shylock, the world thinks—and I think so too—

That thou but lead‘st this fashion of thy malice

To the last hour of act, and then ’tis thought

Thou’lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange

Than is thy strange apparent cruelty,

And where thou now exacts the penalty—

Which is a pound of this poor merchant’s flesh—

Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,

But, touched with human gentleness and love,

Forgive a moiety of the principal,

Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,

That have of late so huddled on his back

Enough to press a royal merchant down

And pluck commiseration of his state

From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint,

From stubborn Turks and Tartars never trained

To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.

SHYLOCK

I have possessed your grace of what I purpose,

And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn

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 choose to have

A weight of carrion flesh than to receive

Three thousand ducats. I’ll not answer that,

But say it is my humour. Is it answered?

What if my house be troubled with a rat,

And I be pleased to give ten thousand ducats

To have it baned? What, are you answered yet?

Some men there are love not a gaping pig,

Some that are mad if they behold a cat,

And others when the bagpipe sings i’th’ nose

Cannot contain their urine; for affection,

Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood

Of what it likes or loathes. Now for your answer:

As there is no firm reason to be rendered

Why he cannot abide a gaping pig,

Why he a harmless necessary cat,

Why he a woollen bagpipe, but of force

Must yield to such inevitable shame

As to offend himself being offended,

So can I give no reason, nor I will not,

More than a lodged hate and a certain loathing

I bear Antonio, that I follow thus

A losing suit against him. Are you answered?

BASSANIO

This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,

To excuse the current of thy cruelty.

SHYLOCK

I am not bound to please thee with my answers.

BASSANIO

Do all men kill the things they do not love?

SHYLOCK

Hates any man the thing he would not kill?

BASSANIO

Every offence is not a hate at first.

SHYLOCK

What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?

ANTONIO

I pray you think you question with the Jew.

You may as well go stand upon the beach

And bid the main flood bate his usual height;

You may as well use question 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

When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven,

You may as well do anything most hard

As seek to soften 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