{"product_id":"the-merchant-of-venice-isbn-9780812969276","title":"The Merchant of Venice","description":"As the citizens of Venice compete for advantageous marriages, wealth, and status, a moneylender is intent on deadly revenge. Mistrust and resentment thrive in Shakespeare’s dark comedy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUnder the editorial supervision of Jonathan Bate and Eric Rasmussen, two of today’s most accomplished Shakespearean scholars, this Modern Library series incorporates definitive texts and authoritative notes from William Shakespeare: Complete Works. Each play includes an Introduction as well as an overview of Shakespeare’s theatrical career; commentary on past and current productions based on interviews with leading directors, actors, and designers; scene-by-scene analysis; key facts about the work; a chronology of Shakespeare’s life and times; and black-and-white illustrations. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIdeal for students, theater professionals, and general readers, these modern and accessible editions from the Royal Shakespeare Company set a new standard in Shakespearean literature for the twenty-first century.William Shakespeare was born in Stratford-upon-Avon in April 1564, and his birth is traditionally celebrated on April 23. The facts of his life, known from surviving documents, are sparse. He was one of eight children born to John Shakespeare, a merchant of some standing in his community. William probably went to the King’s New School in Stratford, but he had no university education. In November 1582, at the age of eighteen, he married Anne Hathaway, eight years his senior, who was pregnant with their first child, Susanna. She was born on May 26, 1583. Twins, a boy, Hamnet ( who would die at age eleven), and a girl, Judith, were born in 1585. By 1592 Shakespeare had gone to London working as an actor and already known as a playwright. A rival dramatist, Robert Greene, referred to him as “an upstart crow, beautified with our feathers.” Shakespeare became a principal shareholder and playwright of the successful acting troupe, the Lord Chamberlain’s Men (later under James I, called the King’ s Men). In 1599 the Lord Chamberlain’s Men built and occupied the Globe Theater in Southwark near the Thames River. Here many of Shakespeare’s plays were performed by the most famous actors of his time, including Richard Burbage, Will Kempe, and Robert Armin. In addition to his 37 plays, Shakespeare had a hand in others, including \u003ci\u003eSir Thomas More\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Two Noble Kinsmen\u003c\/i\u003e, and he wrote poems, including \u003ci\u003eVenus and Adonis\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Rape of Lucrece\u003c\/i\u003e. His 154 sonnets were published, probably without his authorization, in 1609. In 1611 or 1612 he gave up his lodgings in London and devoted more and more time to retirement in Stratford, though he continued writing such plays as \u003cb\u003eThe Tempest\u003c\/b\u003e and \u003cb\u003eHenry VII\u003c\/b\u003e until about 1613. He died on April 23 1616, and was buried in Holy Trinity Church, Stratford. No collected edition of his plays was published during his life-time, but in 1623 two members of his acting company, John Heminges and Henry Condell, put together the great collection now called the First Folio.THE MERCHANT\u003cbr\u003e OF VENICE\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e LIST OF PARTS\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO, a merchant of Venice\u003cbr\u003e BASSANIO, his friend, suitor to Portia\u003cbr\u003e LORENZO, friend of Antonio and Bassanio, in love with Jessica\u003cbr\u003e GRATIANO, friend of Antonio and Bassanio\u003cbr\u003e Friends of Antonio and Bassanio\u003cbr\u003e SALERIO\u003cbr\u003e SOLANIO\u003cbr\u003e LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio\u003cbr\u003e PORTIA, an heiress\u003cbr\u003e NERISSA, her gentlewoman-in-waiting\u003cbr\u003e BALTHASAR, servant to Portia\u003cbr\u003e STEPHANO, servant to Portia\u003cbr\u003e Prince of ARAGON, suitor to Portia\u003cbr\u003e Prince of MOROCCO, suitor to Portia\u003cbr\u003e SHYLOCK, a Jew of Venice\u003cbr\u003e JESSICA, his daughter\u003cbr\u003e TUBAL, a Jew, Shylock’s friend\u003cbr\u003e LANCELET GOBBO, the clown, servant to Shylock and later Bassanio\u003cbr\u003e OLD GOBBO, Lancelet’s father\u003cbr\u003e DUKE of Venice\u003cbr\u003e Magnificoes of Venice\u003cbr\u003e A Jailer, Attendants and Servants\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Act 1 [Scene 1]\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Enter Antonio, Salerio and Solanio\u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    In sooth I know not why I am so sad.\u003cbr\u003e It wearies me, you say it wearies you;\u003cbr\u003e But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,\u003cbr\u003e What stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born,\u003cbr\u003e I am to learn:\u003cbr\u003e And such a want-wit sadness makes of me\u003cbr\u003e That I have much ado to know myself.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SALERIO    Your mind is tossing on the ocean,\u003cbr\u003e There where your argosies with portly sail\u003cbr\u003e Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,\u003cbr\u003e Or as it were the pageants of the sea,\u003cbr\u003e Do overpeer the petty traffickers\u003cbr\u003e That curtsy to them, do them reverence,\u003cbr\u003e As they fly by them with their woven wings.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SOLANIO    Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,\u003cbr\u003e The better part of my affections would\u003cbr\u003e Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still\u003cbr\u003e Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind,\u003cbr\u003e Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads,\u003cbr\u003e And every object that might make me fear\u003cbr\u003e Misfortune to my ventures out of doubt\u003cbr\u003e Would make me sad.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SALERIO    My wind cooling my broth\u003cbr\u003e Would blow me to an ague, when I thought\u003cbr\u003e What harm a wind too great might do at sea.\u003cbr\u003e I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,\u003cbr\u003e But I should think of shallows and of flats,\u003cbr\u003e And see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand,\u003cbr\u003e Vailing her high top lower than her ribs\u003cbr\u003e To kiss her burial; should I go to church\u003cbr\u003e And see the holy edifice of stone,\u003cbr\u003e And not bethink me straight of dang’rous rocks,\u003cbr\u003e Which touching but my gentle vessel’s side,\u003cbr\u003e Would scatter all her spices on the stream,\u003cbr\u003e Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,\u003cbr\u003e And in a word, but even now worth this,\u003cbr\u003e And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought\u003cbr\u003e To think on this, and shall I lack the thought\u003cbr\u003e That such a thing bechanced would make me sad?\u003cbr\u003e But tell not me, I know, Antonio\u003cbr\u003e Is sad to think upon his merchandise.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    Believe me, no. I thank my fortune for it,\u003cbr\u003e My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,\u003cbr\u003e Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate\u003cbr\u003e Upon the fortune of this present year:\u003cbr\u003e Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SALERIO    Why, then you are in love.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    Fie, fie!\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SOLANIO    Not in love neither: then let us say you are sad\u003cbr\u003e Because you are not merry; and ’twere as easy\u003cbr\u003e For you to laugh and leap, and say you are merry\u003cbr\u003e Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus,\u003cbr\u003e Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time:\u003cbr\u003e Some that will evermore peep through their eyes\u003cbr\u003e And laugh like parrots at a bagpiper,\u003cbr\u003e And other of such vinegar aspect\u003cbr\u003e That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile,\u003cbr\u003e Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SOLANIO    Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,\u003cbr\u003e Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well,\u003cbr\u003e We leave you now with better company.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SALERIO    I would have stayed till I had made you merry,\u003cbr\u003e If worthier friends had not prevented me.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    Your worth is very dear in my regard.\u003cbr\u003e I take it your own business calls on you,\u003cbr\u003e And you embrace th’occasion to depart.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SALERIO    Good morrow, my good lords.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e BASSANIO    Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say, when?\u003cbr\u003e You grow exceeding strange. Must it be so?\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e SALERIO    We’ll make our leisures to attend on yours.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Exeunt Salerio and Solanio\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e LORENZO    My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,\u003cbr\u003e We two will leave you, but at dinnertime\u003cbr\u003e I pray you have in mind where we must meet.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e BASSANIO    I will not fail you.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e GRATIANO    You look not well, Signior Antonio.\u003cbr\u003e You have too much respect upon the world:\u003cbr\u003e They lose it that do buy it with much care.\u003cbr\u003e Believe me, you are marvellously changed.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,\u003cbr\u003e A stage where every man must play a part,\u003cbr\u003e And mine a sad one.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e GRATIANO    Let me play the fool:\u003cbr\u003e With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,\u003cbr\u003e And let my liver rather heat with wine\u003cbr\u003e Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.\u003cbr\u003e Why should a man whose blood is warm within,\u003cbr\u003e Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?\u003cbr\u003e Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundices\u003cbr\u003e By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio—\u003cbr\u003e I love thee, and it is my love that speaks—\u003cbr\u003e There are a sort of men whose visages\u003cbr\u003e Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,\u003cbr\u003e And do a wilful stillness entertain,\u003cbr\u003e With purpose to be dressed in an opinion\u003cbr\u003e Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit,\u003cbr\u003e As who should say, ‘I am, sir, an oracle,\u003cbr\u003e And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!’\u003cbr\u003e O my Antonio, I do know of these\u003cbr\u003e That therefore only are reputed wise\u003cbr\u003e For saying nothing; when I am very sure\u003cbr\u003e If they should speak, would almost damn those ears\u003cbr\u003e Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.\u003cbr\u003e I’ll tell thee more of this another time.\u003cbr\u003e But fish not with this melancholy bait\u003cbr\u003e For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.\u003cbr\u003e Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile,\u003cbr\u003e I’ll end my exhortation after dinner.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e To Antonio and Bassanio\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e LORENZO    Well, we will leave you then till dinnertime.\u003cbr\u003e I must be one of these same dumb wise men,\u003cbr\u003e For Gratiano never lets me speak.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e GRATIANO    Well, keep me company but two years more,\u003cbr\u003e Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    Fare you well, I’ll grow a talker for this gear.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e GRATIANO    Thanks, i’faith, for silence is only commendable\u003cbr\u003e In a neat’s tongue dried and a maid not vendible.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Exit [Gratiano with Lorenzo]\u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    Is that anything now?\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e BASSANIO    Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more\u003cbr\u003e than any man in all Venice. His reasons are two grains of\u003cbr\u003e wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere\u003cbr\u003e you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth\u003cbr\u003e the search.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    Well, tell me now, what lady is the same\u003cbr\u003e To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage\u003cbr\u003e That you today promised to tell me of?\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e BASSANIO    ’Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,\u003cbr\u003e How much I have disabled mine estate\u003cbr\u003e By something showing a more swelling port\u003cbr\u003e Than my faint means would grant continuance.\u003cbr\u003e Nor do I now make moan to be abridged\u003cbr\u003e From such a noble rate, but my chief care\u003cbr\u003e Is to come fairly off from the great debts\u003cbr\u003e Wherein my time something too prodigal\u003cbr\u003e Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio,\u003cbr\u003e I owe the most in money and in love,\u003cbr\u003e And from your love I have a warranty\u003cbr\u003e To unburden all my plots and purposes\u003cbr\u003e How to get clear of all the debts I owe.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    I pray you good Bassanio, let me know it,\u003cbr\u003e And if it stand as you yourself still do,\u003cbr\u003e Within the eye of honour, be assured\u003cbr\u003e My purse, my person, my extremest means,\u003cbr\u003e Lie all unlocked to your occasions.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e BASSANIO    In my schooldays, when I had lost one shaft,\u003cbr\u003e I shot his fellow of the selfsame flight\u003cbr\u003e The selfsame way with more advisèd watch\u003cbr\u003e To find the other forth, and by adventuring both\u003cbr\u003e I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof\u003cbr\u003e Because what follows is pure innocence.\u003cbr\u003e I owe you much and, like a wilful youth,\u003cbr\u003e That which I owe is lost. But if you please\u003cbr\u003e To shoot another arrow that self way\u003cbr\u003e Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,\u003cbr\u003e As I will watch the aim, or to find both,\u003cbr\u003e Or bring your latter hazard back again,\u003cbr\u003e And thankfully rest debtor for the first.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    You know me well, and herein spend but time\u003cbr\u003e To wind about my love with circumstance,\u003cbr\u003e And out of doubt you do me now more wrong\u003cbr\u003e In making question of my uttermost\u003cbr\u003e Than if you had made waste of all I have.\u003cbr\u003e Then do but say to me what I should do\u003cbr\u003e That in your knowledge may by me be done,\u003cbr\u003e And I am pressed unto it: therefore speak.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e BASSANIO    In Belmont is a lady richly left,\u003cbr\u003e And she is fair and, fairer than that word,\u003cbr\u003e Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes\u003cbr\u003e I did receive fair speechless messages.\u003cbr\u003e Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued\u003cbr\u003e To Cato’s daughter, Brutus’ Portia.\u003cbr\u003e Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,\u003cbr\u003e For the four winds blow in from every coast\u003cbr\u003e Renownèd suitors, and her sunny locks\u003cbr\u003e Hang on her temples like a golden fleece,\u003cbr\u003e Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos’ strand,\u003cbr\u003e And many Jasons come in quest of her.\u003cbr\u003e O my Antonio, had I but the means\u003cbr\u003e To hold a rival place with one of them,\u003cbr\u003e I have a mind presages me such thrift,\u003cbr\u003e That I should questionless be fortunate.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ANTONIO    Thou know’st that all my fortunes are at sea,\u003cbr\u003e Neither have I money, nor commodity\u003cbr\u003e To raise a present sum: therefore go forth.\u003cbr\u003e Try what my credit can in Venice do,\u003cbr\u003e That shall be racked, even to the uttermost,\u003cbr\u003e To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.\u003cbr\u003e Go presently inquire, and so will I,\u003cbr\u003e Where money is, and I no question make\u003cbr\u003e To have it of my trust or for my sake.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e ExeuntEdited by Jonathan Bate and Eric Rasmussen RSC","brand":"Modern Library","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46300184805605,"sku":"NP9780812969276","price":9.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780812969276.jpg?v=1767740475","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-merchant-of-venice-isbn-9780812969276","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}