|
The Merchant of Venice
·I i 85 ·
Verse
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 it is 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. |
Original: Let me play the fool:
Modern: Let me act like a carefree person:
Original: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,
Modern: I’d rather get wrinkles from joy and laughter,
Original: And let my liver rather heat with wine
Modern: And let my body warm up with wine
Original: Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Modern: Rather than let my heart grow cold with depressing sighs.
Original: Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Modern: Why should a man who’s full of life and energy
Original: Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
Modern: Sit around like a statue of his grandfather carved in stone?
Original: Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundice
Modern: Be sleepy when he’s awake and make himself sick
Original: By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio.
Modern: By being grumpy and irritable? Let me tell you something, Antonio.
Original: I love thee, and it is my love that speaks.
Modern: I care about you, and that’s why I’m saying this.
Original: There are a sort of men whose visages
Modern: There are certain types of men whose faces
Original: Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
Modern: Get a scummy film over them like stagnant water,
Original: And do a wilful stillness entertain,
Modern: And they deliberately act quiet and serious,
Original: With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion
Modern: With the goal of being seen as having
Original: Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit,
Modern: Wisdom, importance, and deep thoughts,
Original: As who should say ‘I am Sir Oracle,
Modern: As if they’re saying ‘I am the great wise one,
Original: And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!’
Modern: And when I speak, everyone should be silent!’
Original: O my Antonio, I do know of these
Modern: Oh Antonio, I know about these men
Original: That therefore only are reputed wise
Modern: Who are only thought to be wise
Original: For saying nothing; when, I am very sure,
Modern: Because they say nothing; when I’m completely sure
Original: If they should speak, would almost damn those ears,
Modern: That if they actually spoke, they would torture the ears
Original: Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
Modern: Of anyone listening, who would then call other people stupid.
Original: I’ll tell thee more of this another time:
Modern: I’ll tell you more about this later:
Original: But fish not, with this melancholy bait,
Modern: But don’t try to catch me with this sad, gloomy attitude
Original: For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
Modern: Like I’m some foolish fish who’ll bite at your bait.
Original: Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile:
Modern: Come on, good Lorenzo. Goodbye for now:
Original: I’ll end my exhortation after dinner.
Modern: I’ll finish giving you this advice after dinner.
In Act I, Scene 1 of “The Merchant of Venice,” Antonio, a wealthy Venetian merchant, expresses a profound melancholy that he cannot explain to his friends Salerio and Solanio. They attempt to diagnose the cause of his sadness, first suggesting that he is worried about his merchant ventures and the ships he has at sea, but Antonio denies this is the source of his distress. When they then propose that he must be in love, Antonio again refutes their theory. The two friends depart as Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano arrive. Gratiano observes Antonio’s sad demeanor and offers lengthy commentary about not becoming too serious or melancholy, using the metaphor of men who affect gravity to appear wise, before he and Lorenzo take their leave.
Once alone with Bassanio, Antonio inquires about the lady that Bassanio had previously mentioned wanting to court. Bassanio reveals that he has spent beyond his means and owes Antonio a significant debt. He then discloses his plan to woo Portia, a wealthy heiress of Belmont who is both beautiful and virtuous, comparing his quest to Jason’s pursuit of the Golden Fleece. Bassanio believes that if he had the proper means to present himself as a worthy suitor, he would have a good chance of winning her hand and fortune. Antonio, whose wealth is currently tied up in his ships at sea, pledges his credit in Venice to help Bassanio secure the funds needed for this courtship venture, telling his friend to find a lender who will advance money based on Antonio’s reputation and creditworthiness.
The Merchant of Venice centers on Bassanio, a young Venetian gentleman who needs money to court the wealthy heiress Portia in Belmont. His friend Antonio, a merchant, agrees to help but has no ready cash since his ships are at sea. Antonio borrows 3,000 ducats from Shylock, a Jewish moneylender, with the unusual condition that if the loan isn’t repaid within three months, Shylock may take a pound of Antonio’s flesh. Meanwhile, Shylock’s daughter Jessica elopes with the Christian Lorenzo, taking her father’s money and jewels.
In Belmont, Portia’s deceased father has decreed that her suitors must choose correctly among three caskets—gold, silver, and lead—to win her hand. The Prince of Morocco and the Prince of Arragon both choose incorrectly and depart. When Bassanio arrives and selects the lead casket, he wins Portia, while his friend Gratiano wins her maid Nerissa. Their celebrations are interrupted by news that Antonio’s ships have been lost and Shylock demands his pound of flesh.
Portia and Nerissa disguise themselves as a lawyer and clerk and travel to Venice for Antonio’s trial. In court, Portia grants Shylock his legal right to the flesh but warns he may take no blood and must cut exactly one pound—an impossible task. Defeated, Shylock loses his bond and, under Venetian law, must forfeit half his wealth and convert to Christianity. The disguised Portia requests Bassanio’s wedding ring as payment, which he reluctantly gives. Back in Belmont, Portia playfully scolds her husband for giving away his ring before revealing her disguise. The play concludes with news that Antonio’s ships have safely returned, restoring his fortune.