Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Solanio. 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. 5
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, 10
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. SOLANIO
Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, 15
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,
Piring in maps for ports and piers and roads;
And every object that might make me fear 20
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. 25
I should not see the sandy hourglass run
But I should think of shallows and of flats,
And see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand,
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church 30
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, 35
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 bechanced would make me sad?
But tell not me: I know Antonio 40
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: 45
Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. SOLANIO
Why then you are in love. ANTONIO Fie, fie! SOLANIO
Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad
Because you are not merry; and ’twere as easy 50
For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed
Janus,
Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes 55
And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper,
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. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, 60
Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare you well.
We leave you now with better company. SALARINO
I would have stayed till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented me. ANTONIO
Your worth is very dear in my regard. 65
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? 70
You grow exceeding strange. Must it be so? SALARINO
We’ll make our leisures to attend on yours. Salarino and Solanio exit. | Antonio (a Venetian merchant) is hanging out with his friends Salarino and Solanio on a street in Venice. Antonio is a sad bunny, though he claims he doesn't know why. Instead of trying to cheer him up, his friends Solanio and Salarino volunteer reasons why he might be depressed. They suggest that maybe he's worried about all the big ventures he's financed at sea. His ships are out there with goods; if they make it back safely, he'll be rich—but if they don't, he'll be in trouble. Antonio insists that his merchandise at sea is not the cause of his sadness. He's diversified his assets, so no single venture can make or break his fortunes. Even if some ships fail, others are bound to make it. So he's covered—or so he thinks. Solanio isn't satisfied and suggests that Antonio might be in love. This sounds exciting, and of course we'd like to hear more, but Solanio's gossipy gab is cut off by the entrance of yet more friends: Lorenzo, Gratiano, and Bassanio, the latter of whom we learn is Antonio's BFF. Salarino and Solanio hastily take their leave, probably because they know Gratiano is going to wax on for longer than they care to stick around. |
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. 75 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 marvelously changed. 80 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, 85
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 90
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 willful stillness entertain 95
With purpose to be dressed 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 100
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. 105
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 you well a while.
I’ll end my exhortation after dinner. 110 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 more,
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own 115
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. Gratiano and Lorenzo exit. ANTONIO Is that anything now? 120 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. 125 ANTONIO
Well, tell me now what lady is the same
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
That you today promised to tell me of? | Yup: here comes the waxing. Gratiano has noticed that Antonio looks sad. (What, is he wearing a sign?). Like the others, he elects not to cheer his friend. Instead, Gratiano notes that he'll always be merry, no matter the circumstances. He adds that some men who are quiet and sad-looking seem thoughtful, but they're likely to be as foolish as anyone else; they're just hiding it well. After making this long-winded point about short-winded people, Gratiano exits with Lorenzo, leaving Bassanio and Antonio to talk. Antonio asks about Bassanio's "secret pilgrimage" to see a lady. (Hmm. Could this be the cause of Antonio's sadness?) |
BASSANIO
’Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
How much I have disabled mine estate 130
By something showing a more swelling port
Than my faint means would grant continuance.
Nor do I now make moan to be abridged
From such a noble rate. But my chief care
Is to come fairly off from the great debts 135
Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
Hath left me gaged. 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 140
How to get clear of all the debts I owe. ANTONIO
I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
And if it stand, as you yourself still do,
Within the eye of honor, be assured
My purse, my person, my extremest means 145
Lie all unlocked to your occasions. BASSANIO
In my school days, when I had lost one shaft,
I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight
The selfsame way with more advisèd watch
To find the other forth; and by adventuring both 150
I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof
Because what follows is pure innocence.
I owe you much, and, like a willful youth,
That which I owe is lost. But if you please
To shoot another arrow that self way 155
Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
As I will watch the aim, or to find both
Or bring your latter hazard back again,
And thankfully rest debtor for the first. ANTONIO
You know me well, and herein spend but time 160
To wind about my love with circumstance;
And out of doubt you do me now more wrong
In making question of my uttermost
Than if you had made waste of all I have.
Then do but say to me what I should do 165
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am prest unto it. Therefore speak. BASSANIO
In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes 170
I did receive fair speechless messages.
Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued
To Cato’s daughter, Brutus’ Portia.
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
For the four winds blow in from every coast 175
Renownèd suitors, and her sunny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece,
Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos’ strond,
And many Jasons come in quest of her.
O my Antonio, had I but the means 180
To hold a rival place with one of them,
I have a mind presages me such thrift
That I should questionless be fortunate! ANTONIO
Thou know’st that all my fortunes are at sea;
Neither have I money nor commodity 185
To raise a present sum. Therefore go forth:
Try what my credit can in Venice do;
That shall be racked even to the uttermost
To furnish thee to Belmont to fair Portia.
Go presently inquire, and so will I, 190
Where money is, and I no question make
To have it of my trust, or for my sake. They exit. | Bassanio fills us in: he's been living well above his means for a while now, and it's finally come back to bite him in the butt. He explains to Antonio that it's to him that he owes the most love and money; therefore, he is obligated to reveal a scheme he's concocted to get himself out of debt. He waxes on about how sometimes you have to risk more to gain more. Finally Antonio cuts him off and says he doesn't need to justify himself: Bassanio should know that Antonio will do anything for him. They're bros. Bassanio gets to the point. He's discovered a woman named Portia who has come into a big inheritance in Belmont. She's good-looking, but more importantly, she's rich. Lots of men have been trying win her hand, and Bassanio is certain if he could only appear to be as rich or worthy as these other men, he could convince her to marry him. This would solve his debt problems nicely. Antonio supports this scheme, but unfortunately all of his money is tied up in his sea ventures. Still, he tells Bassanio to try his hand at raising some money around Venice on credit, using his (Antonio's) good name. Antonio adds that he, too, will work on raising some cash. Basically, even if it means stretching his credit to the limit, he's willing to do whatever he can to get Bassanio all set up to woo Portia in Belmont. |