The Shakespeare Story-Book

“Three thousand ducats; – well?” he said in a pondering, deliberate fashion.

“Ay, sir, for three months,” said Bassanio.

“For three months; – well?”

“For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.”

“Antonio shall become bound; – well?” echoed Shylock, still in the same slow voice.

“Can you help me? Will you oblige me? Shall I know your answer?” said Bassanio rather impatiently.

“Three thousand ducats – for three months – and Antonio bound,” murmured the Jew reflectively.

“Your answer to that?” demanded Bassanio.

“Antonio is a good man,” mused Shylock.

“Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?”

“Oh, 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, on 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, land-thieves and water-thieves – I mean, pirates; and then there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient. I think I may take his bond.”

“Be assured you may,” said Bassanio.

“I will be assured I may,” said Shylock, with a sudden snarl, “and that I will be assured, I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio?”

“Here he comes,” said Bassanio; and at that moment Antonio joined them.

The merchant repeated the request that Bassanio had already made, and pressed Shylock for his answer. Could he oblige them with the loan? Then for a moment of ungovernable fury Shylock’s long-hoarded venom broke forth. He reminded Antonio of the pitiless contempt with which he had always treated him, of the way in which he had publicly heaped insults and abuse on him.

“It now appears you need my help,” continued Shylock bitterly. “You come to me and you say, ‘Shylock, we would have money’ —you say so, that spurned me as you would a stranger cur over your threshold! Money 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, like a slave, and, with bated breath and whispering 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 money’?”

“I am as like to call you so again, to spit on you again, to spurn you, too,” burst out Antonio. “If you will lend me this money, do not lend it as if to a friend, but rather as if to your enemy, from whom, if he fails to pay, you can with better face exact the penalty.”

Then Shylock suddenly turned round, and became very fawning, and pretended that his only wish was to be friends with Antonio and have his love. He would supply his present needs, he said, and not take one farthing of interest. The only condition he imposed was that Antonio should go with him to a notary, and there, in merry sport, sign a bond that if the money were not repaid by a certain day the forfeit should be a pound of flesh, cut off and taken from what part of the merchant’s body it pleased Shylock.

“Content, in faith; I’ll seal to such a bond, and say there is much kindness in the Jew,” said Antonio.

“You shall not seal to such a bond for me,” cried Bassanio, aghast at the idea of such an agreement.

“Why, do not fear, man,” said Antonio; “I will not forfeit it. Within the next two months – that’s a month before the forfeit becomes due – I expect the return of thrice three times this bond.”

And Shylock chimed in, pointing out that even if the bond did become forfeit, what should he gain by exacting the penalty? A pound of man’s flesh would be of no use to him – not nearly so profitable as the flesh of mutton, beef, or goat.

“Yes, Shylock, I will seal this bond,” declared Antonio; and it was useless for Bassanio to argue further, although his mind misgave him at such a sinister agreement.

The Three Caskets

Portia, the lady whom Bassanio hoped to win for his wife, had inherited great wealth, but there was one strange clause in her father’s will. She was not free to choose her own husband. Her father had ordained that there should be three caskets – one of gold, one of silver, one of lead – and Portia’s portrait was to be placed in one of these caskets. Every suitor had to make his choice, and whoever was fortunate enough to select the one containing the portrait was to be rewarded with the lady’s hand.

The report of Portia’s wealth and wondrous beauty spread abroad, and many adventurers came in search of her. Portia liked none of them, and felt much aggrieved to be so curbed by her dead father’s will. Her waiting-maid Nerissa tried to console her by reminding her how wise and good her father had always been. Holy men, she said, had often at their deaths good inspirations, and it would very likely come to pass that the casket would never be rightly chosen except by someone who rightly loved.