The Merchant of Venice (Pocket Classic)
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Experience the captivating drama of The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare with this pocket classic edition. Immerse yourself in the tale of love, justice, and deception set in Renaissance Venice. Compact and portable, it's a must-have for Shakespeare enthusiasts and literature lovers.- William Shakespeare's captivating drama- Explore the themes of love, justice, and deception- Set in the enchanting backdrop of Renaissance Venice- Compact and portable pocket-sized edition- A perfect companion for Shakespeare enthusiasts and literature lovers alike.
William Shakespeare
William Shakespeare is widely regarded as the greatest playwright the world has seen. He produced an astonishing amount of work; 37 plays, 154 sonnets, and 5 poems. He died on 23rd April 1616, aged 52, and was buried in the Holy Trinity Church, Stratford.
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The Merchant of Venice (Pocket Classic) - William Shakespeare
Act I
SCENE I. Venice. A street
Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO
ANTONIO
In sooth, 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 ’tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am 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 where your argosies, with portly sail—
Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
Or as it were the pageants of the sea—
Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
That curtsy to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
SALANIO
Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind,
Peering in maps for ports, and piers, and roads;
And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
Would make me sad.
SALARINO
My wind, cooling my broth
Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
I should not see the sandy hour-glass run
But I should think of shallows and of flats,
And see my wealthy Andrew dock’d in sand,
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church
And see the holy edifice of stone,
And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,
Which, touching but my gentle vessel’s side,
Would scatter all her spices on the stream,
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,
And, in a word, but even 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 bechanc’d 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 trusted,
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
Upon the fortune of this present year;
Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.
SALARINO
Why, then you are in love.
ANTONIO
Fie, fie!
SALARINO
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,
Nature hath fram’d strange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper;
And other of such vinegar aspect
That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO,
and GRATIANO
SALANIO
Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well;
We leave you now with better company.
SALARINO
I would have stay’d till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented me.
ANTONIO
Your worth is very dear in my regard.
I take it your own business calls on you,
And you embrace th’ occasion to depart.
SALARINO
Good morrow, my good lords.
BASSANIO
Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say when.
You grow exceeding strange; must it be so?
SALARINO
We’ll make our leisures to attend on yours.
Exeunt SALARINO and
SALANIO
LORENZO
My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
We two will leave you; but at dinner-time,
I pray you, have in mind 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;
They lose it that do buy it with much care.
Believe me, you are marvellously chang’d.
ANTONIO
I hold 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 wrinkles come;
And let my liver rather heat with wine
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man whose blood is warm within
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster,
Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio—
I love thee, and ’tis my love that speaks—
There are a sort of men whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say ‘I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope 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.
I’ll tell thee more of this another time.
But fish not with this melancholy bait,
For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile;
I’ll end my exhortation after dinner.
LORENZO
Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time.
I must be one of these same dumb wise men,
For Gratiano never lets me speak.
GRATIANO
Well, keep me company but two years moe,
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
ANTONIO
Fare you well; I’ll grow a talker for this gear.
GRATIANO
Thanks, i’ faith, for silence is only commendable
In a neat’s tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
Exeunt GRATIANO and
LORENZO
ANTONIO
Is that anything now?
BASSANIO
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in, two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them they are not worth the search.
ANTONIO
Well; tell me now what lady is the same
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
That you to-day promis’d to tell me of?
BASSANIO
’Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
How much I have disabled mine estate
By something showing a more swelling port
Than my faint means would grant continuance;
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg’d
From such a noble rate; but my chief care
Is to come fairly off from the great debts
Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
Hath left me gag’d. To you, Antonio,
I owe the most, in money and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty
To unburden all my plots and purposes
How to get clear of all the debts I owe.
ANTONIO
I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know