The Merchant of Venice makes a lot of modern audiences uncomfortable with its episodes of virulent prejudice, alternating with a love story that seems almost like a fairy tale.
—"Hoffman opts for mild-mannered Shylock in 'The Merchant of Venice' on Broadway", Associated Press, December 22, 1989
Quotes from the play
Act I
Scene i
In sooth, I know not why I am so sad.
It wearies me, you say it wearies you.
—Antonio
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
Nor to one place.
—Antonio
Now, by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time.
—Salarino
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
—Salarino
You have too much respect upon the world:
They lose it that do buy it with much care.
—Gratiano
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.
Why should a man whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
—Gratiano
There are a sort of men, whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond;
And do a willful 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!"
—Gratiano
I do know of these,
That therefore only are reputed wise,
For saying nothing.
—Gratiano
Fish not with this melancholy bait,
For this fool-gudgeon, this opinion.
—Gratiano
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.
—Bassanio
In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
The self-same way, with more advised watch,
To find the other forth; and by adventuring both,
I oft found both.
—Bassanio
In Belmont is a lady richly left;
And she is fair, and fairer than that word,
Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes
I did receive fair speechless messages.
—Bassanio
Her sunny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece.
—Bassanio
Scene ii
They are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.
—Nerissa
If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces.
—Portia
The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps o’er a cold decree.
—Portia
He doth nothing but talk of his horse.
—Portia
God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man.
—Portia
When he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast.
—Portia
I dote on his very absence.
—Portia
Scene iii
My meaning in saying he is a good man, is, to have you understand me that he is sufficient.
—Shylock
Ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves.
—Shylock
I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you.
—Shylock
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
Even there where merchants most do congregate,
On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift,
Which he calls interest.
—Shylock
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek;
A goodly apple rotten at the heart:
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
—Antonio
Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my moneys, and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears you need my help:
Go to then: you come to me, and you say, Shylock, we would have monies; You say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you would spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; monies 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, and in a bondman’s key,
With bated breath and whispering humbleness,
Say this, — Fair sir, you spet on me Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You call'd me — dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much monies?
—Shylock
For when did friendship take
A breed for barren metal of his friend?
—Antonio
O father Abram! what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others!
—Shylock
I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
—Bassanio
Act II
Scene i
Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun.
—Prince of Morocco
Scene ii
An honest exceeding poor man.
—Old Gobbo
The young gentleman (according to Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three, and such branches of learning) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven.
—Launcelot Gobbo
The very staff of my age, my very prop.
—Old Gobbo
It is a wise father that knows his own child.
—Launcelot Gobbo
Truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son may; but, in the end, truth will out.
—Launcelot Gobbo
In the twinkling of an eye.
—Launcelot Gobbo
But hear thee, Gratiano;
Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice;
Parts that become thee happily enough,
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;
But where thou art not known, why, there they show
Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty,
Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior,
I be misconstrued in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.
—Bassiano
Scene iv
I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand;
And whiter than the paper it writ on
Is the fair hand that writ.
—Lorenzo
Scene v
The vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife.
—Shylock
There will come a Christian by,
Shall be worth a Jewess' eye.
—Launcelot Gobbo
Fast bind, fast find.
—Shylock
Scene vi
All things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather’d ribs and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar’d by the strumpet wind!
—Gratiano
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit.
—Jessica
Must I hold a candle to my shames?
—Jessica
For she is wise, if I can judge of her,
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true,
And true she is, as she hath proved herself,
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
—Lorenzo
Scene vii
All that glisters is not gold, Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold, But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms infold. Had you been as wise as bold, Young in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been inscroll'd. Fare you well, your suit is cold.
—Prince of Morocco, reading Portia's note
Scene viii
Salerino: I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:
Bassanio told him he would make some speed
Of his return: he answer'd, 'Do not so;
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio
But stay the very riping of the time;
And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love:
Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtship and such fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently become you there:'
And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wondrous sensible
He wrung Bassanio's hand; and so they parted.
Solanio: I think he only loves the world for him.
Scene ix
Even in the force and road of casualty.
—Prince of Arragon
The fire seven times tried this;
Seven times tried that judgment is,
That did never choose miss.
Some there be that shadow's kiss,
And have but a shadow's bliss.
There be fools alive, iwis,
Silver'd o'er, and so was this.
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So be gone; you are sped.
If you deny me, fie upon your law!
There is no power in the decrees of Venice.
I stand for judgement: answer — shall I have it?
—Shylock
I am a tainted wether of the flock,
Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit
Drops earliest to the ground.
—Antonio
I never knew so young a body with so old a head.
—Clerk
The quality of mercy is not strain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath: it is twice bless’d;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
’Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown;
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God’s,
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer, doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.
—Portia
A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!
—Shylock
Shylock: Is it so nominated in the bond? Portia: It is not so express'd, but what of that? 'Twere good you do so much for charity. Shylock: I cannot find it: 'tis not in the bond.
Commend me to your honorable wife.
Tell her the process of Antonio's end;
Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death.
And when the tale is told, bid her be judge
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
—Antonio
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; The words expressly are, a pound of flesh.
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are by the laws of Venice confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.
—Portia
An upright judge, a learned judge!
—Gratiano
A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!
Now, infidel, I have you on the hip.
Nay, take my life and all; pardon not that;
You take my house, when you do take the prop
That doth sustain my house; you take my life,
When you do take the means whereby I live.
—Shylock
He is well paid that is well satisfied.
—Portia
Act V
Scene i
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold.
There ’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins.
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
—Lorenzo
I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
—Jessica
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.
—Lorenzo
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
—Portia
How many things by season season’d are
To their right praise, and true perfection! —
Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion,
And would not be awak'd!
—Portia
This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick.
—Portia
These blessed candles of the night.
—Bassanio
Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.
