Tragic Elements in M of V

Tragic Elements in M of V
The Merchant of Venice
The Merchant of Venice is a play by William Shakespeare, believed to have been written between 1596 and 1598. Though classified as a comedy in the First Folio and sharing certain aspects with Shakespeare's other romantic comedies, the play is perhaps most remembered for its dramatic scenes, and is best known for Shylock and the famous "Hath not a Jew eyes?" speech. Also notable is Portia's speech about "the quality of mercy".
The title character is the merchant Antonio, not the Jewish moneylender Shylock, who is the play's most prominent and most famous character. This is made explicit by the title page of the first quarto: The most excellent History of the Merchant of Venice. With the extreme cruelty of Shylock the Jew towards the Merchant....
Characters
* Antonio – a merchant of Venice * Bassanio – Antonio's friend; suitor to Portia * Gratiano, Solanio, Salarino, Salerio – friends of Antonio and Bassanio * Lorenzo – friend of Antonio and Bassanio, in love with Jessica * Portia – a rich heiress * Nerissa – Portia's waiting maid- in love with Gratiano * Balthazar – Portia's servant, who Portia later disguises herself as * Stephano – Nerissa's disguise as Balthazar's law clerk. * Shylock – a rich Jew, moneylender, father of Jessica * Jessica – daughter of Shylock, in love with Lorenzo | * Tubal – a Jew; Shylock's friend * Launcelot Gobbo – a servant to Shylock * Old Gobbo – father of Launcelot * Leonardo – servant to Bassanio * Duke of Venice – Venetian authority who presides over the case of Shylock's bond * Prince of Morocco – suitor to Portia * Prince of Arragon – suitor to Portia * Magnificoes of Venice, officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler, servants to Portia, and other Attendants |
Synopsis
Gilbert's Shylock After the Trial, an illustration to The Merchant of Venice.
Bassanio, a young Venetian of noble rank, wishes to woo the beautiful and wealthy heiress Portia of Belmont. Having squandered his estate, Bassanio approaches his friend Antonio, a wealthy merchant of Venice who has previously and repeatedly bailed him out, for 3,000 ducats needed to subsidise his expenditures as a suitor. Antonio agrees, but since he is cash-poor – his ships and merchandise are busy at sea – he promises to cover a bond if Bassanio can find a lender, so Bassanio turns to the Jewish moneylender Shylock and names Antonio as the loan's guarantor.
Antonio has already made an enemy of Shylock through his outspoken antisemitism. The moneylender knows of Antonio's customary refusal to borrow or lend money with interest. Shylock is at first reluctant to grant the loan, citing abuse he has suffered at Antonio's hand, but finally agrees to lend the sum to Antonio without interest upon one condition: if Antonio is unable to repay it at the specified date, Shylock may take a pound of Antonio's flesh. Bassanio does not want Antonio to accept such a risky condition; Antonio is surprised by what he sees as the moneylender's generosity (no "usance" – interest – is asked for), and he signs the contract. With money at hand, Bassanio leaves for Belmont with his friend Gratiano, who has asked to accompany him. Gratiano is a likeable young man, but is often flippant, overly talkative, and tactless. Bassanio warns his companion to exercise self-control, and the two leave for Belmont and Portia.
Meanwhile in Belmont, Portia is awash with suitors. Her father left a will stipulating each of her suitors must choose correctly from one of three caskets – one each of gold, silver and lead. If he picks the right casket, he gets Portia. The first suitor, the luxurious Prince of Morocco, chooses the gold casket, interpreting its slogan "Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire"(act 2 scene 7) as referring to Portia. The second suitor, the conceited Prince of Arragon, chooses the silver casket, which proclaims "Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves"(act 2 scene 7), imagining himself to be full of merit. Both suitors leave empty-handed, having rejected the lead casket because of the baseness of its material and the uninviting nature of its slogan: "Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath."(act 2 scene 7) The last suitor is Bassanio, whom Portia wishes to succeed, having met him before. As Bassanio ponders his choice, members of Portia's household sing a song which says that "fancy" (not true love) is "engend'red in the eyes, With gazing fed.",[1] prompting Bassanio to disregard "outward shows" and "ornament" and choses the lead casket, winning Portia's hand.
At Venice, Antonio's ships are reported lost at sea. This leaves him unable to satisfy the bond. Shylock is even more determined to exact revenge from Christians after his daughter Jessica had fled home and eloped with the Christian Lorenzo, taking a substantial amount of Shylock's wealth with her, as well as a turquoise ring which was a gift to Shylock from his late wife, Leah. Shylock has Antonio brought before court.
At Belmont, Bassanio receives a letter telling him that Antonio has been unable to return the loan taken from Shylock. Portia and Bassanio marry, as do Gratiano and Portia's handmaid Nerissa. Bassanio and Gratiano then leave for Venice, with money from Portia, to save Antonio's life by offering the money to Shylock. Unknown to Bassanio and Gratiano, Portia has sent her servant, Balthazar, to seek the counsel of Portia's cousin, Bellario, a lawyer, at Padua.
The climax of the play comes in the court of the Duke of Venice. Shylock refuses Bassanio's offer of 6,000 ducats, twice the amount of the loan. He demands his pound of flesh from Antonio. The Duke, wishing to save Antonio but unable to nullify a contract, refers the case to a visitor who introduces himself as Balthazar, a young male "doctor of the law", bearing a letter of recommendation to the Duke from the learned lawyer Bellario. The doctor is actually Portia in disguise, and the law clerk who accompanies her is actually Nerissa, also in disguise. As Balthazar, Portia repeatedly asks Shylock to show mercy in a famous speech, advising him that mercy "is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes." (IV,i,185) However, Shylock adamantly refuses any compensations and insists on the pound of flesh.
As the court grants Shylock his bond and Antonio prepares for Shylock's knife, Portia deftly appropriates Shylock's argument for 'specific performance', and points out that the contract only allows Shylock to remove the flesh, not the "blood", of Antonio (see quibble). Thus, if Shylock were to shed any drop of Antonio's blood, his "lands and goods" would be forfeited under Venetian laws. Further damning Shylock's case, she tells him that he must cut precisely one pound of flesh, no more, no less; she advises him that "if the scale do turn, But in the estimation of a hair, Thou diest and all thy goods are confiscate."
Defeated, Shylock concedes to accepting Bassanio's offer of money for the defaulted bond, first his offer to pay "the bond thrice", which Portia rebuffs, telling him to take his bond, and then merely the principal, which Portia also prevents him from doing on the ground that he has already refused it "in the open court." She then cites a law under which Shylock, as a Jew and therefore an "alien", having attempted to take the life of a citizen, has forfeited his property, half to the government and half to Antonio, leaving his life at the mercy of the Duke. The Duke immediately pardons Shylock's life. Antonio asks for his share "in use" until Shylock's death, when the principal will be given to Lorenzo and Jessica. At Antonio's request, the Duke grants remission of the state's half of forfeiture, but on the condition of Shylock converting to Christianity and bequeathing his entire estate to Lorenzo and Jessica (IV,i).
Bassanio does not recognise his disguised wife, but offers to give a present to the supposed lawyer. First she declines, but after he insists, Portia requests his ring and Antonio's gloves. Antonio parts with his gloves without a second thought, but Bassanio gives the ring only after much persuasion from Antonio, as earlier in the play he promised his wife never to lose, sell or give it. Nerissa, as the lawyer's clerk, also succeeds in likewise retrieving her ring from Gratiano, who does not see through her disguise.
At Belmont, Portia and Nerissa taunt and pretend to accuse their husbands before revealing they were really the lawyer and his clerk in disguise (V). After all the other characters make amends, Antonio learns from Portia that three of his ships were not stranded and have returned safely after all.
Date and text
The date of composition for The Merchant of Venice is believed to be between 1596 and 1598. The play was mentioned by Francis Meres in 1598, so it must have been familiar on the stage by that date, and the title page of the first edition in 1600 states that it had been performed "divers times" by that date. Salerio's reference to his ship the "Andrew" (I,i,27) is thought to be an allusion to the Spanish ship St. Andrew captured by the English at Cadiz in 1596. A date of 1596–97 is considered consistent with the play's style.
The play was entered in the Register of the Stationers Company, the method at that time of obtaining copyright for a new play, by James Roberts on 22 July 1598 under the title The Merchant of Venice, otherwise called The Jew of Venice. On 28 October 1600 Roberts transferred his right to the play to the stationer Thomas Hayes; Hayes published the first quarto before the end of the year. It was printed again in a pirated edition in 1619, as part of William Jaggard's so-called False Folio. (Afterward, Thomas Hayes' son and heir Laurence Hayes asked for and was granted a confirmation of his right to the play, on 8 July 1619.) The 1600 edition is generally regarded as being accurate and reliable, and is the basis of the text published in the 1623 First Folio, which adds a number of stage directions, mainly musical cues.[2]
Sources
The forfeit of a merchant's deadly bond after standing surety for a friend's loan was a common tale in England in the late 16th century.[3] The test of the suitors at Belmont, the merchant's rescue from the "pound of flesh" penalty by his friend's new wife disguised as a lawyer and her demand for the betrothal ring in payment are all present in the 14th-century tale Il Pecorone by Giovanni Fiorentino, which was published in Milan in 1558.[4] Elements of the trial scene are also found in The Orator by Alexandre Sylvane, published in translation in 1596.[3]
Performance
The earliest performance of which a record has survived was held at the court of King James in the spring of 1605, followed by a second performance a few days later, but there is no record of any further performances in the 17th century.[5] In 1701, George Granville staged a successful adaptation, titled The Jew of Venice, with Thomas Betterton as Bassanio. This version (which featured a masque) was popular, and was acted for the next forty years. Granville cut the Gobbos in line with neoclassical decorum; he added a jail scene between Shylock and Antonio, and a more extended scene of toasting at a banquet scene. Thomas Doggett was Shylock, playing the role comically, perhaps even farcically. Rowe expressed doubts about this interpretation as early as 1709; Doggett's success in the role meant that later productions would feature the troupe clown as Shylock.
In 1741, Charles Macklin returned to the original text in a very successful production at Drury Lane, paving the way for Edmund Kean seventy years later (see below).[6] Arthur Sullivan wrote incidental music for the play in 1871.[7]
Shylock on stage
See also: Shylock
Jewish actor Jacob Adler and others report that the tradition of playing Shylock sympathetically began in the first half of the 19th century with Edmund Kean,[8] and that previously the role had been played "by a comedian as a repulsive clown or, alternatively, as a monster of unrelieved evil." Kean's Shylock established his reputation as an actor.[9]
From Kean's time forward, all of the actors who have famously played the role, with the exception of Edwin Booth, who played Shylock as a simple villain, have chosen a sympathetic approach to the character; even Booth's father, Junius Brutus Booth, played the role sympathetically. Henry Irving's portrayal of an aristocratic, proud Shylock (first seen at the Lyceum in 1879, with Portia played by Ellen Terry) has been called "the summit of his career".[10] Jacob Adler was the most notable of the early 20th century: Adler played the role in Yiddish-language translation, first in Manhattan's Yiddish Theater District in the Lower East Side, and later on Broadway, where, to great acclaim, he performed the role in Yiddish in an otherwise English-language production.[11]
Kean and Irving presented a Shylock justified in wanting his revenge; Adler's Shylock evolved over the years he played the role, first as a stock Shakespearean villain, then as a man whose better nature was overcome by a desire for revenge, and finally as a man who operated not from revenge but from pride. In a 1902 interview with Theater magazine, Adler pointed out that Shylock is a wealthy man, "rich enough to forgo the interest on three thousand ducats" and that Antonio is "far from the chivalrous gentleman he is made to appear. He has insulted the Jew and spat on him, yet he comes with hypocritical politeness to borrow money of him." Shylock's fatal flaw is to depend on the law, but "would he not walk out of that courtroom head erect, the very apotheosis of defiant hatred and scorn?"[12]
Some modern productions take further pains to show the sources of Shylock's thirst for vengeance. For instance, in the 2004 film adaptation directed by Michael Radford and starring Al Pacino as Shylock, the film begins with text and a montage of how Venetian Jews are cruelly abused by bigoted Christians. One of the last shots of the film also brings attention to the fact that, as a convert, Shylock would have been cast out of the Jewish community in Venice, no longer allowed to live in the ghetto. Another interpretation of Shylock and a vision of how "must he be acted" appears at the conclusion of the autobiography of Alexander Granach, a noted Jewish stage and film actor in Weimar Germany (and later in Hollywood and on Broadway).[13]

Themes
Shylock and the antisemitism debate
The play is frequently staged today, but is potentially troubling to modern audiences due to its central themes, which can easily appear antisemitic. Critics today still continue to argue over the play's stance on antisemitism.
Shylock as a villain
English society in the Elizabethan era has been described as "judeophobic".[14] English Jews had been expelled under Edward I in 1290 and were not permitted to return until 1656 under the rule of Oliver Cromwell. In Venice and in some other places, Jews were required to wear a red hat at all times in public to make sure that they were easily identified, and had to live in a ghetto protected by Christian guards.[15] On the Elizabethan stage, Jews were often presented in an Orientalist caricature, with hooked noses and bright red wigs, and were usually depicted as avaricious usurers; an example is Christopher Marlowe's play The Jew of Malta, which features a comically wicked Jewish villain called Barabas. They were usually characterised as evil, deceitful and greedy.
Shakespeare's play may be seen as a continuation of this tradition.[16] The title page of the Quarto indicates that the play was sometimes known as The Jew of Venice in its day, which suggests that it was seen as similar to Marlowe's The Jew of Malta. One interpretation of the play's structure is that Shakespeare meant to contrast the mercy of the main Christian characters with the vengefulness of a Jew, who lacks the religious grace to comprehend mercy. Similarly, it is possible that Shakespeare meant Shylock's forced conversion to Christianity to be a "happy ending" for the character, as, to a Christian audience, it saves his soul and allows him to enter Heaven.[citation needed]
Regardless of what Shakespeare's own intentions may have been, the play has been made use of by antisemites throughout the play's history. One must note that the end of the title in the 1619 edition "With the Extreme Cruelty of Shylock the Jew..." must aptly describe how Shylock was viewed by the English public. The Nazis used the usurious Shylock for their propaganda. Shortly after Kristallnacht in 1938, The Merchant of Venice was broadcast for propagandistic ends over the German airwaves. Productions of the play followed in Lübeck (1938), Berlin (1940), and elsewhere within the Nazi Territory.[17]
In a series of articles called Observer, first published in 1785, British playwright Richard Cumberland created a character named Abraham Abrahams who is quoted as saying, "I verily believe the odious character of Shylock has brought little less persecution upon us, poor scattered sons of Abraham, than the Inquisition itself."[18] Cumberland later wrote a successful play, The Jew (1794), in which his title character, Sheva, is portrayed sympathetically, as both a kindhearted and generous man. This was the first known attempt by a dramatist to reverse the negative stereotype that Shylock personified.[19]
The depiction of Jews in literature throughout the centuries bears the close imprint of Shylock. With slight variations much of English literature up until the 20th century depicts the Jew as "a monied, cruel, lecherous, avaricious outsider tolerated only because of his golden hoard".[20]
Shylock as a sympathetic character
Many modern readers and theatregoers have read the play as a plea for tolerance, noting that Shylock is a sympathetic character. They cite as evidence that Shylock's 'trial' at the end of the play is a mockery of justice, with Portia acting as a judge when she has no right to do so. The characters who berated Shylock for dishonesty resort to trickery in order to win. In addition, Shakespeare gives Shylock one of his most eloquent speeches:
Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed?
If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that.
If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility?
Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge.
The villainy you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.
(Act III, scene I)
It is difficult to know whether the sympathetic reading of Shylock is entirely due to changing sensibilities among readers, or whether Shakespeare, a writer who created complex, multi-faceted characters, deliberately intended this reading.
One of the reasons for this interpretation is that Shylock's painful status in Venetian society is emphasised. To some critics, Shylock's celebrated "Hath not a Jew eyes" speech (see above) redeems him and even makes him into something of a tragic figure; in the speech, Shylock argues that he is no different from the Christian characters.[21] Detractors note that Shylock ends the speech with a tone of revenge: "if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?" Those who see the speech as sympathetic point out that Shylock says he learned the desire for revenge from the Christian characters: "If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction."
Even if Shakespeare did not intend the play to be read this way, the fact that it retains its power on stage for audiences who may perceive its central conflicts in radically different terms is an illustration of the subtlety of Shakespeare's characterisations.[22] In the trial Shylock represents what Elizabethan Christians believed to be the Jewish desire for "justice", contrasted with their obviously superior Christian value of mercy. The Christians in the courtroom urge Shylock to love his enemies, although they themselves have failed in the past. Harold Bloom explains that, although the play gives merit to both cases, the portraits are not even-handed: "Shylock’s shrewd indictment of Christian hypocrisy [delights us, but]…Shakespeare’s intimations do not alleviate the savagery of his portrait of the Jew…"[23]

Sir Herbert Beerbohm Tree as Shylock, painted by Charles Buchel (1895–1935).
Sexuality in the play
Antonio, Bassanio
Antonio's unexplained depression — "In sooth I know not why I am so sad" — and utter devotion to Bassanio has led some critics to theorise that he is suffering from unrequited love for Bassanio and is depressed because Bassanio is coming to an age where he will marry a woman. In his plays and poetry Shakespeare often depicted strong male bonds of varying homosociality, which has led some critics to infer that Bassanio returns Antonio's affections despite his obligation to marry:[24]
ANTONIO: Commend me to your honourable wife:
Tell her the process of Antonio's end,
Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death;
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
BASSANIO: But life itself, my wife, and all the world
Are not with me esteemed above thy life;
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
Here to this devil, to deliver you. (IV,i)
In his essay "Brothers and Others", published in The Dyer's Hand, W. H. Auden describes Antonio as "a man whose emotional life, though his conduct may be chaste, is concentrated upon a member of his own sex." Antonio's feelings for Bassanio are likened to a couplet from Shakespeare's Sonnets: "But since she pricked thee out for women's pleasure,/ Mine be thy love, and my love's use their treasure." Antonio, says Auden, embodies the words on Portia's leaden casket: "Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath." Antonio has taken this potentially fatal turn because he despairs, not only over the loss of Bassanio in marriage, but also because Bassanio cannot requite what Antonio feels for him. Antonio's frustrated devotion is a form of idolatry: the right to live is yielded for the sake of the loved one. There is one other such idolator in the play: Shylock himself. "Shylock, however unintentionally, did, in fact, hazard all for the sake of destroying the enemy he hated; and Antonio, however unthinkingly he signed the bond, hazarded all to secure the happiness of the man he loved." Both Antonio and Shylock, agreeing to put Antonio's life at a forfeit, stand outside the normal bounds of society. There was, states Auden, a traditional "association of sodomy with usury", reaching back at least as far as Dante, with which Shakespeare was likely familiar. (Auden sees the theme of usury in the play as a comment on human relations in a mercantile society.)
Other interpreters of the play regard Auden's conception of Antonio's sexual desire for Bassanio as questionable. Michael Radford, director of the 2004 film version starring Al Pacino, explained that although the film contains a scene where Antonio and Bassanio actually kiss, the friendship between the two is platonic, in line with the prevailing view of male friendship at the time. Jeremy Irons, in an interview, concurs with the director's view and states that he did not "play Antonio as gay". Joseph Fiennes, however, who plays Bassanio, encouraged a homoerotic interpretation and, in fact, surprised Irons with the kiss on set, which was filmed in one take. Fiennes defended his choice, saying "I would never invent something before doing my detective work in the text. If you look at the choice of language ... you'll read very sensuous language. That's the key for me in the relationship. The great thing about Shakespeare and why he's so difficult to pin down is his ambiguity. He's not saying they're gay or they're straight, he's leaving it up to his actors. I feel there has to be a great love between the two characters ... there's great attraction. I don't think they have slept together but that's for the audience to decide."[25]
Cultural references
Arnold Wesker's play The Merchant tells the same story from Shylock's point of view. In this retelling, Shylock and Antonio are fast friends bound by a mutual love of books and culture and a disdain for the crass anti-Semitism of the Christian community's laws. They make the bond in defiant mockery of the Christian establishment, never anticipating that the bond might become forfeit. When it does, the play argues, Shylock must carry through on the letter of the law or jeopardise the scant legal security of the entire Jewish community. He is, therefore, quite as grateful as Antonio when Portia, as in Shakespeare's play, shows the legal way out. The play received its American premiere on 16 November 1977 at New York's Plymouth Theatre, with Joseph Leon as Shylock and Marian Seldes as Shylock's sister Rivka. This production had a challenging history in previews on the road, culminating (after the first night out of town in Philadelphia on 8 September 1977) with the death of the larger-than-life Broadway star Zero Mostel, who was initially cast as Shylock. The play's author, Arnold Wesker, wrote a book chronicling the out-of-town tribulations that beset the play and Zero's death called The Birth of Shylock and the Death of Zero Mostel.
David Henry Wilson's play Shylock's Revenge, which was first performed by The University Players at the Audimax, Hamburg, on 9 June 1989, can be seen as a full-length sequel to Shakespeare's drama.
The title of the film Seven Pounds is a reference to the "pound of flesh" from the play.
Edmond Haraucourt, the French playwright and poet, was commissioned in the 1880s by the actor and theatrical director Paul Porel to make a French-verse adaptation of The Merchant of Venice. His play Shylock, first performed at the Théâtre de l'Odéon in December 1889, had incidental music by the French composer Gabriel Fauré, later incorporated into an orchestral suite of the same name.[28]
One of the four short stories comprising Alan Isler's Op Non Cit is also told from Shylock's point of view. In this story, Antonio was a boy of Jewish origin kidnapped at an early age by priests.
Ralph Vaughan Williams' choral work Serenade to Music draws its text from the discussion about music and the music of the spheres in Act V, scene 1.
In both versions of the comic film To Be or Not to Be the character "Greenberg", specified as a Jew only in the later version, gives a recitation of the "Hath not a Jew eyes?" speech to Nazi soldiers.[29]
In The Pianist, Henryk Szpilman quotes a passage from Shylock's "Hath not a Jew eyes?" speech to his brother Władysław Szpilman in a Jewish ghetto in Warsaw, Poland, during the Nazi occupation in World War II. Given the questioning of Antisemitism in the speech and also the Nazi use of the play for antisemitic propaganda purposes, the quote is seen as particularly poignant and symbolic.
Steven Spielberg's Schindler's List depicts SS Lieutenant Amon Göth quoting Shylock's "Hath a Jew no eyes?" speech when deciding whether or not to rape his Jewish maid.
The rock musical Fire Angel was based on the story of the play, with the scene changed to the Little Italy district of New York. It was performed in Edinburgh in 1974 and in a revised form at Her Majesty's Theatre, London, in 1977.
Jane Lindskold's book Changer contains a scene in which the protagonists consider "using Portia's gambit from The Merchant of Venice" to escape from a situation and binding contract analogous to Antonio's.

Merchant of Venice: Theme Analysis

Theme Analysis
Prejudice: The Merchant of Venice has been labeled an anti-Semetic play by some critics, but this is far from the only way to look at it. The character of Shylock seems, outwardly, to be the villain of the play. He sets up a plan to exact a pound of flesh from Antonio, who, outwardly, seems like a good Christian. The story, however, is much deeper than this. Shakespeare gives reasons for Shylock's actions-if they are acts of hatred, it is not unfounded hatred. Instead, it is clear that the Antonio has given Shylock ample reason to seek revenge. Further, many of the Christian characters exhibit the same behaviors which they persecute Shylock for. Upon examination of Shylock's motives and the actions of the Christians in the play, it is not Shylock's Jewishness which is being criticized, but the hypocrisy shown by the Christian characters.
The normal first reaction to Shylock's character is that he is cruel and evil because of his un-Christian hatred for Antonio. However, it is actually Antonio who shows an unfounded hatred. As Anne Barton points out in the introduction, "Treated as something inhuman, a 'dog' or a 'cur,' Shylock not unnaturally responds...with tooth and claw" (The Riverside Shakespeare, page285). Shylock does admit to hating Antonio for being a Christian, but he adds that his hatred really stems from reasons other than religion. Antonio drives down the interest rates in town by lending money without interest-he knowingly takes away the only livelihood which Shylock is permitted (1.3.42).
Antonio spits and kicks Shylock whenever he comes in contact with him. He gives no reason for this, beyond the fact that Shylock is not a Gentile. Antonio, who, along with other Christians, later criticizes Shylock for his hatred, proves a hypocrite because he hates Shylock without reason, and in doing so, gives Shylock reason to return this hatred.
Shylock is portrayed as a greedy character in the play, another un-Christian attribute. Yet, the Christians in the play are in no position to judge him in this respect. Lorenzo seems every bit as concerned with Shylock's ducats as he is with Jessica herself. He explains the plan to Gratiano: "She hath directed/ me how I shall take her from her father's house/ What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with" (2.4.30).
Though Antonio seems generous, lending his money to close friends, other Christian characters are not. Bassanio admits in the first act that he is in debt because he lives off of loans from others. His greed is of an even grosser nature than Shylock's because he satisfies it throught irresponsible means-borrowing without repaying. Even his love interest in Portia seems strongly tied to her wealth. His first argument to Antonio as to why he should attempt to win Portia is based on money. He says, "In Belmont is a lady richly left..." (1.1.161). He then goes on to discuss her other virtues, but it is her wealth which has obviously caught his attention. The audience, therefore, cannot accuse Shylock of being guilty of greed without also pointing out the same guilt in these Christian characters.
It's interesting that Shylock is aware of the hypocricy of the Christians throughout the play. When Salerio questions Shylock's desire for revenge, Shylock points out that he is not at all unlike a "good Christian" in his endeavors. He points out to them:
If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong
A Jew, what should his sufferance be by Chris- tian example? Why revenge. The villainy you teach me, I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.
(3.1.68)
This is an interesting statement, especially since it immediately follows Shylock's argument that Jews bleed, laugh, and die in the same manner as Christians. It is an extension of this argument to say that it is also a common human trait to seek revenge on those who have done one wrong.
Bassanio challenges this assertion in act five when they are trying to talk Shylock out of demanding the pound of flesh. Bassanio asks, "Do all men kill the things they do not love?" (5.1.66). The implication is that this is the unmerciful thinking of a Jew; an accusation to which Shylock responds: "Hates any man the thing he would not kill?" (4.1.67). His statement suggests that revenge is a human trait, not a Jewish one.
Shylock goes one step farther in arguing that the Christians are hypocrites for criticizing his act of revenge. He compares his right to the pound of Antonio's flesh to the Christian practice of keeping slaves. He says, rightly, that if he were to request the Christians to release their slaves and show them mercy, they would reply that they own them. Likewise, he explains, "The pound of flesh which I demand of him/ Is dearly bought as mine, and I will have it" (4.1.94).
Shakespeare incorporates a plot twist which further illustrates the hypocricy which Shylock is talking about. Lorenzo steals Shylock's daughter, Jessica, from him. This is more than just a disrespectful act in the context of the play. When Shylock speaks of the act, he exclaims, "My own flesh and blood to rebel/...I say, my daughter is my flesh and my/ blood" (3.1.34). In this sense, Lorenzo, a Christian, has taken flesh from Shylock. Yet his act is not backed by legal contract, it is an illegal and subversive act done behind Shylock's back. If Shylock's legal claim to a pound of flesh is seen as terrible, then this illegal extraction of Shylock's "flesh" by a Christian is something much worse.
The hypocricy of the Christians manifests itself most strongly in the trial scene. At first, the Duke tells Shylock that everyone expects him to forego the pound of flesh at the last minute, and furthermore, they wish for him to show further mercy on Antonio. They ask that Shylock, "Forgive a moi'ty of the principal/ Glancing an eye of pity on his losses" (4.1.25). Shylock, of course, refuses.
Later, when Shylock is undone by Portia's interpretations of the law, the Christians present withhold from Shylock the same mercy which they scolded him for not showing to Antonio earlier. None of them "Glance and eye of pity" on the losses suffered by Shylock. Antonio's losses were only monetary, while Shylock has lost riches and a daughter-his own flesh. So it would seem that the Christian's have exacted the same revenge on Shylock which he had attempted to exact on Antonio.
The difference lies in the fact that their only reasoning for punishing him so harshly seems to be that he is a Jew. Antonio had no other reason to hate him before now; in fact, he freely agreed to the contract which Portia snuck him out of. Antonio here seems to be the most merciless of all of them. On top of the loss of all of his fortune and his daughter, Antonio adds two more punishments to the heap. He first requests that Shylock become a Christian-thereby taking from Shylock the one thing that he might still cling to, his religious beliefs. Secondly, Antonio makes him will all of his remaining wealth to his Jessica and Lorenzo. This request, in essence, means that he must give his blessing to a marriage which took place behind his back, against his will, and through acts of disloyalty on his daughter's part.
This is what the Christians call mercy-forcing Shylock to pay a penalty which is arguably worse than what he had wished to take out on Antonio. The sentence delivered to Shylock is also significant because it makes the audience feel natural sympathy for Shylock. He has lost everything he has from his daughter, to his wealth, to his religion. He is last seen in the play as a character who has had everything taken from him by the Christians. Shakespeare obviously intended the audience to pity Shylock after such a harsh fate befell him, which suggests that the play is not intended to be anti-Semetic. A play which was anti-Semetic in nature would not end the play with the audience pitying the main Jewish character.
Instead, it seems that this play uses Shylock's character to reveal the true hypocritical nature of the Christian characters in the play. They perform the same acts which Shylock does, often to a more base extent, and call them Christian acts and merciful acts. However, when Shylock attempts to do the same things, he is persecuted. The play doesn't portray Shylock as a cruel, merciless Jew. Instead, it instills in his character tendencies and desires which are no different from Christian beliefs and desires. In going so, Shakespeare reveals the hypocritical nature of the Christian's actions
Loyalty: The theme of loyalty in the play comes out through the interactions of several sets of characters. First, there is Bassanio, who is close friends with Antonio-their friendship survives stressful situations in the play. Next, there is the relationship between Bassanio and his wife, Portia. The third major character interaction which deals with the theme of loyalty is Jessica's relationship to her father, Shylock when she runs away to marry a Christian, Lorenzo.
The loyalty between Bassanio and Antonio becomes evident in the first act of the play when Antonio loans Bassanio a large sum of money and takes him on his word that he will repay it. From Bassanio's words, we realize that this has taken place before, "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/ 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." (I.i.146). From this quote, it seems Bassanio has borrowed money to Antonio before and hasn't repayed the debts, and yet Antonio still loans to him again out of sheer loyalty to friends.
This loyalty is returned to Antonio by Bassanio towards the end of the play when Bassanio races home from his Belmont to save Antonio from his debt to Shylock. Bassanio actually puts a quantitative value on his loyalty, "But life itself, my wife, and all the world/ Are not with me esteem'd above thy life./ I would lose all, ay, sacrafice them all/ Here to this devil, to deliver you." (IV.i.284). Bassanio actually offers to give over his own life and all of his loved posessions to save Antonio-his loyalty is greater than the repayment of the financial debt he owes to Antonio. In the end, he makes the sacrafice of giving the "judge" (Portia in disguise) the ring which his wife gave to him and told him never to remove if he loved her. This sacrafice of a symbol of love for his wife is the ultimate symbol of loyalty to his friend.
Ironically, this act of loyalty towards one character in the play is a blatant act of disloyalty towards Portia, his wife. Bassanio pledges his loyalty to Portia upon winning the riddle and again upon leaving to help Antonio, "...but till I come again/ No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay/ Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain." (III.ii.325). Though his vow is correct in that he does not cheat on her, he does go back on his promise by giving away the ring he gave her to thank the judge. This would seem to be a blatant act of disloyalty and clash with his otherwise noble actions of loyalty. However, in light of the fact that it was Portia who disguised herself as the judge in order to test her husband, and he was therefore forced into the act by underhanded measures, his disloyalty here must be taken with a grain of salt.
The final character interaction to be considered in discussing the theme of loyalty is the relationship between Jessica and her father, Shylock. Her love for a Christian is one of the side-stories in the play, but it is central to the theme. When she runs away with Lorenzo, she steals ducats from her father in addition to her disloyalty to her decision to disobey him in marrying a Christian. She expresses uncertainty about her decision when she dresses as a boy to run away. She says, "...I am much ashamed for my exchange. (II.v.36)" By this she means that she is ashamed to be dressed as a boy, but the second meaning of the quote is that she is ashamed to have exchanged her love and loyalty to her father for the love of a Christian. Her reaction to music in the final act shows her further remorse for disloyalty. Shylock doesn't allow music in his house and when Jessica hears the music in Belmont at the close of the play she says, "I am never merry when I hear sweet music. (V.i.69)" This statement suggests that the music has made her think of her father and reflect upon her own actions. She is unhappy at the end of the play, and some stage productions even suggest that Shylock has died of grief and that she is saddened for causing him such pain.

Analysis of Major Characters
→
Shylock

Although critics tend to agree that Shylock is The Merchant of Venice’s most noteworthy figure, no consensus has been reached on whether to read him as a bloodthirsty bogeyman, a clownish Jewish stereotype, or a tragic figure whose sense of decency has been fractured by the persecution he endures. Certainly, Shylock is the play’s antagonist, and he is menacing enough to seriously imperil the happiness of Venice’s businessmen and young lovers alike. Shylock is also, however, a creation of circumstance; even in his single-minded pursuit of a pound of flesh, his frequent mentions of the cruelty he has endured at Christian hands make it hard for us to label him a natural born monster. In one of Shakespeare’s most famous monologues, for example, Shylock argues that Jews are humans and calls his quest for vengeance the product of lessons taught to him by the cruelty of Venetian citizens. On the other hand, Shylock’s coldly calculated attempt to revenge the wrongs done to him by murdering his persecutor, Antonio, prevents us from viewing him in a primarily positive light. Shakespeare gives us unmistakably human moments, but he often steers us against Shylock as well, painting him as a miserly, cruel, and prosaic figure.
Portia

Quick-witted, wealthy, and beautiful, Portia embodies the virtues that are typical of Shakespeare’s heroines—it is no surprise that she emerges as the antidote to Shylock’s malice. At the beginning of the play, however, we do not see Portia’s potential for initiative and resourcefulness, as she is a near prisoner, feeling herself absolutely bound to follow her father’s dying wishes. This opening appearance, however, proves to be a revealing introduction to Portia, who emerges as that rarest of combinations—a free spirit who abides rigidly by rules. Rather than ignoring the stipulations of her father’s will, she watches a stream of suitors pass her by, happy to see these particular suitors go, but sad that she has no choice in the matter. When Bassanio arrives, however, Portia proves herself to be highly resourceful, begging the man she loves to stay a while before picking a chest, and finding loopholes in the will’s provision that we never thought possible. Also, in her defeat of Shylock Portia prevails by applying a more rigid standard than Shylock himself, agreeing that his contract very much entitles him to his pound of flesh, but adding that it does not allow for any loss of blood. Anybody can break the rules, but Portia’s effectiveness comes from her ability to make the law work for her.

Portia rejects the stuffiness that rigid adherence to the law might otherwise suggest. In her courtroom appearance, she vigorously applies the law, but still flouts convention by appearing disguised as a man. After depriving Bassanio of his ring, she stops the prank before it goes to far, but still takes it far enough to berate Bassanio and Gratiano for their callousness, and she even insinuates that she has been unfaithful.
Antonio

Although the play’s title refers to him, Antonio is a rather lackluster character. He emerges in Act I, scene i as a hopeless depressive, someone who cannot name the source of his melancholy and who, throughout the course of the play, devolves into a self-pitying lump, unable to muster the energy required to defend himself against execution. Antonio never names the cause of his melancholy, but the evidence seems to point to his being in love, despite his denial of this idea in Act I, scene i. The most likely object of his affection is Bassanio, who takes full advantage of the merchant’s boundless feelings for him. Antonio has risked the entirety of his fortune on overseas trading ventures, yet he agrees to guarantee the potentially lethal loan Bassanio secures from Shylock. In the context of his unrequited and presumably unconsummated relationship with Bassanio, Antonio’s willingness to offer up a pound of his own flesh seems particularly important, signifying a union that grotesquely alludes to the rites of marriage, where two partners become “one flesh.”

Further evidence of the nature of Antonio’s feelings for Bassanio appears later in the play, when Antonio’s proclamations resonate with the hyperbole and self-satisfaction of a doomed lover’s declaration: “Pray God Bassanio come / To see me pay his debt, and then I care not” (III.iii.35–36). Antonio ends the play as happily as he can, restored to wealth even if not delivered into love. Without a mate, he is indeed the “tainted wether”—or castrated ram—of the flock, and he will likely return to his favorite pastime of moping about the streets of Venice (IV.i.113). After all, he has effectively disabled himself from pursuing his other hobby—abusing Shylock—by insisting that the Jew convert to Christianity. Although a sixteenth-century audience might have seen this demand as merciful, as Shylock is saving himself from eternal damnation by converting, we are less likely to be convinced. Not only does Antonio’s reputation as an anti-Semite precede him, but the only instance in the play when he breaks out of his doldrums is his “storm” against Shylock (I.iii.132). In this context, Antonio proves that the dominant threads of his character are melancholy and cruelty.
Summary and Analysis

Act I, scenes i–ii
→
Summary: Act I, scene i

Antonio, a Venetian merchant, complains to his friends, Salarino and Solanio, that a sadness has overtaken him and dulled his faculties, although he is at a loss to explain why. Salarino and Solanio suggest that his sadness must be due to his commercial investments, for Antonio has dispatched several trade ships to various ports. Salarino says it is impossible for Antonio not to feel sad at the thought of the perilous ocean sinking his entire investment, but Antonio assures his friends that his business ventures do not depend on the safe passage of any one ship. Solanio then declares that Antonio must be in love, but Antonio dismisses the suggestion.

The three men encounter Bassanio, Antonio’s kinsman, walking with two friends named Lorenzo and Gratiano. Salarino and Solanio bid Antonio farewell and depart. When Gratiano notices Antonio’s unhappiness and suggests that the merchant worries too much about business, Antonio responds that he is but a player on a stage, destined to play a sad part. Gratiano warns Antonio against becoming the type of man who affects a solemn demeanor in order to gain a wise reputation, then he takes his leave with Lorenzo. Bassanio jokes that Gratiano has terribly little to say, claiming that his friend’s wise remarks prove as elusive as “two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff” (I.i.115–116). Antonio asks Bassanio to tell him about the clandestine love that Bassanio is harboring. In reply, Bassanio admits that although he already owes Antonio a substantial sum of money from his earlier, more extravagant days, he has fallen in love with Portia, a rich heiress from Belmont, and hopes to win her heart by holding his own with her other wealthy and powerful suitors. In order to woo Portia, however, Bassanio says he needs to borrow more money from Antonio. Antonio replies that he cannot give Bassanio another loan, as all his money is tied up in his present business ventures, but offers to guarantee any loan Bassanio can round up.
Summary: Act I, scene ii

At Belmont, Portia complains to her lady-in-waiting, Nerissa, that she is weary of the world because, as her dead father’s will stipulates, she cannot decide for herself whether to take a husband. Instead, Portia’s various suitors must choose between three chests, one of gold, one of silver, and one of lead, in the hopes of selecting the one that contains her portrait. The man who guesses correctly will win Portia’s hand in marriage, but those who guess incorrectly must swear never to marry anyone. Nerissa lists the suitors who have come to guess—a Neapolitan prince, a Palatine count, a French nobleman, an English baron, a Scottish lord, and the nephew of the duke of Saxony—and Portia criticizes their many hilarious faults. For instance, she describes the Neapolitan prince as being too fond of his horse, the Palatine count as being too serious, the Englishman as lacking any knowledge of Italian or any of the other languages Portia speaks, and the German suitor of drunkenness. Each of these suitors has left without even attempting a guess for fear of the penalty for guessing wrong. This fact relieves Portia, and both she and Nerissa remember Bassanio, who has visited once before, as the suitor most deserving and worthy of praise. A servant enters to tell Portia that the prince of Morocco will arrive soon, news that Portia is not at all happy to hear.
Analysis: Act I, scenes i–ii

The first scene of the play introduces us to a world of wealthy, upper-class Christian men living in Venice. Their conversation reveals that they are men of business who take great risks with money and are careful to avoid seeming overly concerned about their investments. For example, Antonio calmly denies his associates’ suggestion that he is worried about his ships, and Salarino’s description of a shipwreck, with silks enrobing the roaring waters and spices scattered upon the stream, is lyrical and poetic rather than practical or business-minded. Significantly, the conversation throughout this opening scene is not really about business, but rather Antonio’s emotional state—his friends see it as their duty to cheer him up. We may infer that money is very important to these men, but the code of manners that they share requires them to act as though friendship, camaraderie, and good cheer matter more than money. For example, Salarino excuses himself by asserting that his only concern is to make Antonio merry and that he is leaving because better friends have arrived, but Antonio knows that Salarino is leaving to attend to his own business affairs. The Christian men of the play share a certain set of values, but these values are not always entirely consistent or self-evident.

However, if the professions of affection between Antonio and the other merchants simply seem like good manners, Antonio’s loyalty toward his friend Bassanio is obviously quite sincere. Where Bassanio is concerned, love and friendship really are more important to Antonio than money. When Bassanio asks for help, Antonio promptly offers all of his money and credit, insisting that they go straightaway to a lender so he can stand as security for Bassanio. Antonio’s defining characteristic is his willingness to do anything for his friend Bassanio, even lay down his life. Beyond this willingness to sacrifice himself for Bassanio, Antonio is a relatively passive character. He begins the play in a dreamy melancholy that he does not know how to cure, and throughout the play he never takes decisive action in the way that Bassanio, Portia, and various other characters do. He approaches life with a pensive, resigned, wait-and-see attitude, like a merchant waiting for his ships to return.

One possible explanation for Antonio’s melancholy is that he is hopelessly in love with Bassanio. Although he never admits it, the evidence suggests that he is in love with somebody. His friends think he is in love, and while he denies the suggestion that he is worried about his ships with a calm, well-reasoned argument, he responds to the suggestion that he is in love with a simple “[f]ie, fie” (I.i.46). Moreover, melancholy was traditionally regarded as a symptom of lovesickness in Shakespeare’s time, yet no female lover for Antonio is alluded to in the play. Antonio is extravagant in his professions of love for Bassanio, and while extravagant protestations of love between upper-class men were not considered abnormal at the time, we may hear a double entendre in his assurance that “[m]y purse, my person, my extremest means / Lie all unlocked to your occasions” (I.i.138–139). The explicit sense of this statement is that Antonio will make himself and his physical person available to help Bassanio, but it could be construed to mean that his body, or person, is available for Bassanio’s pleasure. The idea that Antonio is in love with Bassanio would explain his motivation for risking his life, as well as lend his character a certain poignancy, as Antonio puts his own life and wealth in jeopardy to help Bassanio woo someone else.

Act I, scene ii introduces Portia, the heroine of the play, and establishes the casket test through which she will find a husband. After we see more of Portia, her compliance with her dead father’s instructions may seem odd, as she proves to be an extremely independent and strong-willed character. However, her adherence to her father’s will establishes an important aspect of her character: she plays by the rules. Her strict adherence to laws and other strictures makes her an interesting counterpoint to Shylock, the play’s villain, whom we meet in the next scene.

Because Portia is such a fabulously wealthy heiress, the only men eligible to court her are from the highest end of the social strata. As a result, the competition between her suitors is international, including noblemen from various parts of Europe and even Africa. Portia’s description of her previous suitors serves as a vehicle for Shakespeare to satirize the nobleman of France, Scotland, Germany, and England for the amusement of his English audience. At the end of the scene, the arrival of the prince of Morocco is announced, introducing a suitor who is racially and culturally more distant from Portia than her previous suitors. The casket test seems designed to give an equal chance to all of these different noblemen, so the competition for Portia’s hand and wealth in Belmont parallels the financial community of Venice, which is also organized to include men of many nations, Christian and non-Christian alike. Portia’s remarks about the prince of Morocco’s devilish skin color, however, show that she is rooting for a husband who is culturally and racially similar to her. In fact, she hopes to marry Bassanio, the suitor with the background closest to hers.

Act I, scene iii
→
Summary

Shylock, a Jewish moneylender, agrees to loan Bassanio three thousand ducats for a term of three months. Bassanio assures Shylock that Antonio will guarantee the loan, but Shylock is doubtful because Antonio’s wealth is currently invested in business ventures that may fail. In the end, however, Shylock decides that Antonio’s guarantee of the loan will be sufficient assurance, and asks to speak with him. When Antonio arrives, Shylock, in an aside, confesses his hatred for the man. Antonio, Shylock says, is a Christian who lends money without interest, which makes more difficult the practice of usury, in which money is lent out at exorbitant interest rates. Shylock is also incensed by Antonio’s frequent public denunciations of Shylock. Antonio makes it clear to Shylock that he is not in the habit of borrowing or lending money, but has decided to make an exception on behalf of his friend Bassanio. Their conversation leads Antonio to chastise the business of usury, which Shylock defends as a way to thrive.

As he calculates the interest on Bassanio’s loan, Shylock remembers the many times that Antonio has cursed him, calling him a “misbeliever, cut-throat, dog / And spit upon [his] Jewish gaberdine” (I.iii.107–108). Antonio responds that he is likely to do so again, and insists that Shylock lend him the money as an enemy. Such an arrangement, Antonio claims, will make it easier for Shylock to exact a harsh penalty if the loan is not repaid. Assuring Antonio that he means to be friends, Shylock offers to make the loan without interest. Instead, he suggests, seemingly in jest, that Antonio forfeit a pound of his own flesh should the loan not be repaid in due time. Bassanio warns Antonio against entering such an agreement, but Antonio assures him that he will have no trouble repaying the debt, as his ships will soon bring him wealth that far exceeds the value of the loan. Shylock attempts to dismiss Bassanio’s suspicions, asking what profit he stands to make by procuring a pound of Antonio’s flesh. As Shylock heads off to the notary’s office to sign the bond, Antonio remarks on Shylock’s newfound generosity: “The Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind” (I.iii.174). Bassanio remains suspicious of the arrangement, but Antonio reminds him that his ships will arrive within the next two months.
Analysis

Shylock is an arresting presence on the stage, and although Antonio may be the character for whom the play is named, it is Shylock who has come to dominate the imaginations of critics and audiences alike. Shylock’s physical presence in the play is actually not so large, as he speaks fewer lines than other characters and does not even appear in the play’s final act. However, in many ways, the play belongs to Shylock. The use of a Jew as the central villain was not unknown to Renaissance comedy, as evidenced by The Jew of Malta, a wildly popular play by Shakespeare’s contemporary Christopher Marlowe, which revolves around a malevolent, bloodthirsty Jewish character named Barabas. Shylock, however, differs in that his malice seems to stem, at least in part, from the unkindness of his Christian colleagues. Exactly how to read Shylock has been a matter of some debate, and even the most persuasive scholars would be hard-pressed to call him a flattering portrait of a Jew. One could certainly argue, however, that Shylock receives far less of a stock portrayal than what was common in Shakespeare’s time, and that, given the constant degradation he endures, we can even feel something akin to sympathy for him.

At the heart of any sympathy we might feel for Shylock lies the fact that the bonhomie and good nature that so mark Antonio’s appearance with Bassanio disappear, and his treatment of Shylock is unexpectedly harsh and brutal. Even though Bassanio and Antonio require a favor from Shylock, Antonio’s is still a tone of imperious command, and his past, present, and future attitude toward Shylock is one of exceptional contempt. Shylock vividly illustrates the depth of this contempt, wondering aloud why he should lend Antonio money when Antonio has voided his “rheum,” or spit, on Shylock’s beard, and he kicked Shylock as he would a stray dog (I.iii.113–114). The repeated mention of spittle here sharply differentiates Antonio’s Venice, where even shipwrecks seem like spice-laden dreams, from Shylock’s, where the city is a place of blows, kicks, and bodily functions. Without these details, Antonio’s haughty attitude toward Shylock could easily be forgiven, but the very visceral details of spit and kicks show a violent, less romantic side to Antonio, and our sympathies for him cannot help but lessen.

Shylock is noticeably different from Shakespeare’s other great villains, such as Richard III or Iago, in several ways. In the first place, these other villains see themselves as evil, and while they may try to justify their own villainy, they also revel in it, making asides to the audience and self-consciously comparing themselves to the Vice character of medieval morality plays. Marlowe’s Jew, Barabas, is a similarly self-conscious villain. Though the Christian characters of The Merchant of Venice may view Jews as evil, Shylock does not see himself in that way. His views of himself and others are rational, articulate, and consistent. Also, Shakespeare’s other villains are generally more deceitful, passing themselves off as loving and virtuous Christians while plotting malevolently against those around them. Shylock, on the other hand, is an outcast even before the play begins, vilified and spat upon by the Christian characters. Shylock’s actions are relatively open, although the other characters misunderstand his intentions because they do not understand him.

Indeed, Shylock understands the Christians and their culture much better than they understand him. The Christian characters only interact with Shylock within a framework of finance and law—he is not part of the friendship network portrayed in Act I, scene i. Though Bassanio asks him to dine with them, Shylock says in an aside that he will not break bread with Christians, nor will he forgive Antonio, thereby signaling his rejection of one of the fundamental Christian values, forgiveness. Shylock is able to cite the New Testament as readily as Jewish scripture, as he shows in his remark about the pig being the animal into which Christ drove the devil. Antonio notes Shylock’s facility with the Bible, but he uses this ability to compare Shylock to the devil, who, proverbially, is also adept at quoting scripture. As we see more of Shylock, he does not become a hero or a fully sympathetic character, but he is an unsettling figure insofar as he exposes the inconsistencies and hypocrisies of the Christian characters. Shylock never quite fits their descriptions or expectations of him. Most significantly, they think he is motivated solely by money, when in fact his resentment against Antonio and the other Christians outweighs his desire for monetary gain.

Act II, scenes i–iv
→
Summary: Act II, scene i

In Belmont, the prince of Morocco arrives to attempt to win Portia’s hand in marriage. The prince asks Portia not to judge him by his dark complexion, assuring her that he is as valorous as any European man. Portia reminds the prince that her own tastes do not matter, since the process of picking chests, stipulated in her father’s will, makes the prince as worthy as any other suitor. With a lengthy proclamation of his own bravery and heroism, the prince asks Portia to lead him to the caskets, where he may venture his guess. She reminds him that the penalty for guessing incorrectly is that he must remain unmarried forever. The prince accepts this stipulation, and Portia leads him off to dinner.
Summary: Act II, scene ii

Launcelot Gobbo, a servant of Shylock’s, struggles to decide whether or not he should run away from his master. Part of him, which he calls “[t]he fiend . . . at mine elbow,” wants to leave, while his conscience reminds him of his honest nature and urges him to stay (II.ii.2). Although Launcelot has no specific complaints, he seems troubled by the fact that his master is Jewish, or, as Launcelot puts it, “a kind of devil” (II.ii.19). Just when Launcelot determines to run away, his father, Old Gobbo, enters. The old man is blind, and he asks how to get to Shylock’s house, where he hopes to find young Launcelot. Because his father does not recognize him, Launcelot decides to play a prank on him—he gives the old man confusing directions and reports that Launcelot is dead. When Launcelot reveals the deception, Old Gobbo doubts that the man before him is his son, but Launcelot soon convinces his father of his identity. Launcelot confesses to his father that he is leaving Shylock’s employment in the hopes of serving Bassanio. Just then, Bassanio enters and the two plead with him to accept Launcelot as his servant. Bassanio takes several moments to understand their bumbling proposition, but he accepts the offer. Bassanio then meets Gratiano, who asks to accompany him to Belmont, and agrees on the condition that Gratiano tame his characteristically wild behavior. Gratiano promises to be on his best behavior, and the two men plan a night of merriment to celebrate their departure.
Summary: Act II, scene iii

Shylock’s daughter Jessica bids good-bye to Launcelot. She tells him that his presence made life with her father more bearable. Jessica gives Launcelot a letter to carry to Bassanio’s friend Lorenzo, and Launcelot leaves, almost too tearful to say good-bye. Jessica, left alone, confesses that although she feels guilty for being ashamed of her father, she is only his daughter by blood, and not by actions. Still, she hopes to escape her damning relationship to Shylock by marrying Lorenzo and converting to Christianity.
Summary: Act II, scene iv

On a street in Venice, Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Solanio discuss the plan to unite Lorenzo with Jessica. Gratiano frets that they are not well prepared, but Lorenzo assures the men that they have enough time to gather the necessary disguises and torchbearers. As they talk, Launcelot enters bearing Jessica’s letter. Lorenzo recognizes the writing, lovingly exclaiming that the hand that penned the message is “whiter than the paper it writ on” (II.iv.13). Lorenzo bids Launcelot to return to Shylock’s house in order to assure Jessica, secretly, that Lorenzo will not let her down. Launcelot departs, and Lorenzo orders his friends to prepare for the night’s festivities. Salarino and Solanio leave, and Lorenzo relates to Gratiano that Jessica will escape from Shylock’s house by disguising herself as Lorenzo’s torchbearer. Lorenzo gives Gratiano the letter and asks Gratiano to read it, then leaves, excited for the evening’s outcome.
Analysis: Act II, scenes i–iv

The elaborate excuse the prince of Morocco makes for his dark coloring serves to call attention to it and to his cultural difference from Portia and from Shakespeare’s audience. His extravagant praise of his own valor also makes him seem both less well-mannered and less attractive. Moreover, his assertion that the best virgins of his clime have loved him seems calculated to make him less, rather than more, attractive to Portia. Her response to his protestations is polite, even courtly, showing her good breeding and her virtuous acquiescence to her dead father’s wishes. But her words also clearly convey that she does not want to marry him.

The scene between the Gobbos is typical of Shakespeare, who frequently employs servants and members of the working class to provide slapstick interludes in both his comedies and tragedies. The Merchant of Venice does not derive all of its comic moments from the malapropisms and double entendres of this odd father-son pair, but the humor here is more crass and vulgar—so simple that it is hard to overlook and mistake. Seen in this light, we forgive things that might otherwise seem cruel to us, like Launcelot’s shabby treatment of his blind and doting father. This humor is comedy at its simplest, where laughs are derived not from quick wit but from confusion and foolery.

Although Shylock does not appear in these scenes, our view of him is further shaped by the opinions of those closest to him. Even though his servant and daughter do not like him, their descriptions of him inadvertently make him a more sympathetic figure in our eyes. Launcelot, we learn, is not abandoning his post because Shylock has proved to be a cruel or harsh master, but because he seems to fear contamination from being so close to a Jew. Interestingly, although he calls Shylock a devil, Launcelot points out that his desire to leave is a temptation more devilish still, and says his desire to stay is a product of his conscience, which is generally a guide of what is right. Jessica, too, voices no real complaint about her father, other than the tedium of life with him, but she seems eager to escape her Jewish heritage, which she sees as a stain on her honor. Jessica even brings the morality of her own actions into question when she calls her shame at being Shylock’s daughter a sin, and she feels enormous guilt at her own sentiments. Her desire to convert would undoubtedly have been applauded by Elizabethan audiences, but here it is expressed as a kind of young recklessness that borders on selfishness. The negative impression that Shylock has given us with his first appearance is somewhat counteracted by the words of those closest to him, who feel guilty even as they speak ill of him.

Act II, scenes v–ix
→
Summary: Act II, scene v

Shylock warns Launcelot that Bassanio will not be as lenient a master as Shylock himself has been, and that Launcelot will no longer be at liberty to overeat and oversleep. Shylock calls for Jessica and tells her that he has been summoned for dinner. Worried by a premonition that trouble is brewing, Shylock asks Jessica to keep the doors locked and not look out at the revelry taking place in the streets. Launcelot whispers to Jessica that she must disobey her father and look out the window for the Christian who “will be worth a Jewës eye” (II.v.41). Shylock asks Jessica about her furtive conversation with Launcelot, and says that, though Launcelot is kind, he eats and sleeps too much to be an efficient, worthwhile servant. After Shylock has left to see Bassanio, Jessica bids him farewell, thinking that, if nothing goes wrong, Shylock will soon have lost a daughter, and she, a father.
Summary: Act II, scene vi

As planned, Gratiano and Salarino meet in front of Shylock’s house. They are especially anxious because Lorenzo is late, and they think that lovers tend always to be early. The garrulous Gratiano expounds on Salarino’s theory that love is at its best when the lover chases the object of his affection, and that once the lover captures his lady and consummates the relationship, he tends to tire and lose interest. Lorenzo joins them, apologizes for his tardiness, and calls up to Jessica, who appears on the balcony dressed as a page. Jessica tosses him a casket of gold and jewels. Jessica descends and exits with Lorenzo and Salarino. Just then, Antonio enters to report that Bassanio is sailing for Belmont immediately. Gratiano is obliged to leave the festivities and join Bassanio at once.
Summary: Act II, scene vii

Back in Belmont, Portia shows the prince of Morocco to the caskets, where he will attempt to win her hand by guessing which chest contains her portrait. The first casket, made of gold, is inscribed with the words, “Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire” (II.vii.37). The second, made of silver, reads, “Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves” (II.vii.23). The third, a heavy leaden casket, declares, “Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath” (II.vii.16). After much pondering, the prince chooses the gold casket, reasoning that only the most precious metal could house the picture of such a beautiful woman. He opens the chest to reveal a skull with a scroll in its eye socket. After reading a short poem chastising him for the folly of his choice, the prince makes a hasty departure. Portia is glad to see him go and hopes that “[a]ll of his complexion choose me so” (II.viii.79).
Summary: Act II, scene viii

Having witnessed Shylock’s rage upon learning of Jessica’s elopement, Solanio describes the scene to Salarino. Shylock, he reports, railed against the loss of his daughter and his ducats, and he shouted a loud, urgent appeal for justice and the law to prevail. Solanio hopes that Antonio is able to pay his debt, but Salarino reminds him of rumors that the long-awaited ships have capsized in the English Channel. The two men warmly remember Bassanio’s departure from Antonio, wherein the merchant insisted that his young friend not allow thoughts of debt or danger to interfere with his courtship of Portia.
Summary: Act II, scene ix

The prince of Arragon is in Belmont to try his luck at winning Portia’s hand in marriage. When brought to the caskets, he selects the silver one, confident that he “shall get as much as he deserves” (II.ix.35). Inside, he finds a portrait of a blinking idiot, and a poem that condemns him as a fool. Soon after he departs, a messenger arrives to tell Portia that a promising young Venetian, who seems like the perfect suitor, has come to Belmont to try his luck at the casket game. Hoping that it is Bassanio, Portia and Nerissa go out to greet the new suitor.
Analysis: Act II, scenes v–ix

In these scenes, Shylock is again portrayed as a penny-pinching, but not wicked, master. Indeed, he seems to think himself quite lenient, and when he calls Launcelot lazy, this jibe seems likely to be an accurate description of the buffoonish retainer. Shylock’s fear for his daughter and his distaste for the Venetian revelry paint him as a puritanical figure who respects order and the rule of law above all else, and who refuses to have “shallow fopp’ry” in his “sober house” (II.v.34–35). Shylock’s rhetoric is distinctive: he tends to repeat himself and avoids the digressions common to other characters. As more than one critic has pointed out, he is characterized by a one-track mind.

Happily, Jessica and Lorenzo’s romantic love triumphs, but a number of critics have pointed out the ambiguity in the scene of their elopement. The couple’s love for one another is not in doubt, but Jessica’s determination to bring a hefty store of treasure reminds us that she is still an alien, a Jew among gentiles, who may be insecure about her reception. Indeed, her shame at her boy’s costume may reflect a deeper concern for her place in her husband’s Christian society. Later, at Belmont, she will be all but ignored by everyone save Lorenzo, suggesting that despite her husband and her conversion, she remains a Jew in others’ eyes.

The prince of Morocco’s choice of the caskets is wrong, but his mistake is understandable, and we sympathize with him. There is something casually cruel about Portia’s unwillingness to spare even a moment’s pity for the Moor. Portia is a willful character—while her independence is often appealing, at other times she can seem terribly self-centered. She wants Bassanio as a husband and seems to have no regrets in seeing other suitors sentenced to a life of celibacy.

Salarino and Solanio are the least interesting characters in the play. They are indistinguishable from one another and serve primarily to fill us in on events that take place offstage—in this case, Shylock’s reaction to his daughter’s flight and the parting of Antonio and Bassanio. Shylock’s cries of “My daughter! O, my ducats! O, my daughter!” are meant to be comic—the moneylender is, after all, a comic villain (II.viii.15). He bemoans the loss of his money as much as his loss of Jessica, suggesting that greed is as important to him as familial love. However, we cannot be sure that Shylock really reacted in this way, since we hear the story secondhand. Salarino and Solanio are poking fun at the Jew, and their testimony must be balanced by the concern that Shylock expresses for his daughter in the earlier scenes.

Arragon, a Spanish prince, completes the parade of nationalities competing for Portia. He lacks the nobility of the prince of Morocco, and his arrogance almost makes us feel that he deserves his punishment. His quick dismissal from the scene clears the way for Bassanio.

Act III, scenes i–ii
→
Summary: Act III, scene i

Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions . . . ? If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die? And if you wrong us shall we not revenge?

(See Important Quotations Explained)

Salarino and Solanio discuss the rumors that yet another of Antonio’s ships has been wrecked. They are joined by Shylock, who accuses them of having helped Jessica escape. The two Venetians proudly take credit for their role in Jessica’s elopement. Shylock curses his daughter’s rebellion, to which Salarino responds, “There is more difference between thy flesh and hers than between jet and ivory” (III.i.32–33). Salarino then asks Shylock whether he can confirm the rumors of Antonio’s lost vessels. Shylock replies that Antonio will soon be bankrupt and swears to collect his bond. Salarino doubts Shylock’s resolve, wondering what the old man will do with a pound of flesh, to which Shylock chillingly replies that Antonio’s flesh will at least feed his revenge. In a short monologue, Shylock says Antonio has mistreated him solely because Shylock is a Jew, but now Shylock is determined to apply the lessons of hatred and revenge that Christian intolerance has taught him so well.

Salarino and Solanio head off to meet with Antonio, just as Tubal, a friend of Shylock’s and a Jew, enters. Tubal announces that he cannot find Jessica. Shylock rants against his daughter, and he wishes her dead as he bemoans his losses. He is especially embittered when Tubal reports that Jessica has taken a ring—given to Shylock in his bachelor days by a woman named Leah, presumably Jessica’s mother—and has traded that ring for a monkey. Shylock’s spirits brighten, however, when Tubal reports that Antonio’s ships have run into trouble and that Antonio’s creditors are certain Antonio is ruined.
Summary: Act III, scene ii

In Belmont, Portia begs Bassanio to delay choosing between the caskets for a day or two. If Bassanio chooses incorrectly, Portia reasons, she will lose his company. Bassanio insists that he make his choice now, to avoid prolonging the torment of living without Portia as his wife. Portia orders that music be played while her love makes his choice, and she compares Bassanio to the Greek hero and demigod Hercules. Like the suitors who have come before him, Bassanio carefully examines the three caskets and puzzles over their inscriptions. He rejects the gold casket, saying that “[t]he world is still deceived with ornament” (III.ii.74), while the silver he deems a “pale and common drudge / ’Tween man and man” (III.ii.103–104). After much debate, Bassanio picks the lead casket, which he opens to reveal Portia’s portrait, along with a poem congratulating him on his choice and confirming that he has won Portia’s hand.

The happy couple promises one another love and devotion, and Portia gives Bassanio a ring that he must never part with, as his removal of it will signify the end of his love for her. Nerissa and Gratiano congratulate them and confess that they too have fallen in love with one another. They suggest a double wedding. Lorenzo and Jessica arrive in the midst of this rejoicing, along with Salarino, who gives a letter to Bassanio. In the letter, Antonio writes that all of his ships are lost, and that Shylock plans to collect his pound of flesh. The news provokes a fit of guilt in Bassanio, which in turn prompts Portia to offer to pay twenty times the sum. Jessica, however, worries that her father is more interested in revenge than in money. Bassanio reads out loud the letter from Antonio, who asks only for a brief reunion before he dies. Portia urges her husband to rush to his friend’s aid, and Bassanio leaves for Venice.
Analysis: Act III, scenes i–ii

The passage of time in The Merchant of Venice is peculiar. In Venice, the three months that Antonio has to pay the debt go by quickly, while only days seem to pass in Belmont. Shakespeare juggles these differing chronologies by using Salarino and Solanio to fill in the missing Venetian weeks.

As Antonio’s losses mount, Shylock’s villainous plan becomes apparent. “[L]et him look to his bond,” he repeats single-mindedly (III.i.39–40). Despite his mounting obsession with the pound of Antonio’s flesh, however, he maintains his dramatic dignity. In his scene with the pair of Venetians, he delivers the celebrated speech in which he cries, “Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions . . . ? If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die?” (III.i.49–55). We are not meant to sympathize entirely with Shylock: he may have been wronged, but he lacks both mercy and a sense of proportion. His refusal to take pity on Antonio is later contrasted with the mercy shown him by the Christians. But even as we recognize that Shylock’s plans are terribly wrong, we can appreciate the angry logic of his speech. By asserting his own humanity, he lays waste to the pretensions of the Christian characters to value mercy, charity, and love above self-interest.

Shylock’s dignity lapses in his scene with Tubal, who keeps his supposed friend in agony by alternating between good and bad news. Shylock lurches from glee to despair and back, one moment crying, “I thank God, I thank God!” (III.i.86), and the next saying, “Thou stick’st a dagger in me” (III.i.92). But even here he rouses our sympathy, because we hear that Jessica stole a ring given to him by his late wife and traded it for a monkey. “It was my turquoise,” Shylock says. “I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor. I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys” (III.i.100–103). Villain though he may be, we can still feel sorrow that Jessica—who is suddenly a much less sympathetic character—would be heartless enough to steal and sell a ring that her dead mother gave her father.

Bassanio’s successful choice seems inevitable and brings the drama of the caskets to an end. Bassanio’s excellence is made clear in his ability to select the correct casket, and his choice brings the separated strands of the plot together. Portia, who is the heroine of the play—she speaks far more lines than either Antonio or Shylock—is free to bring her will and intelligence to bear on the problem of Shylock’s pound of flesh. Once Lorenzo and Jessica arrive, the three couples are together in Belmont, but the shadow of Shylock hangs over their happiness.

Critics have noticed that Jessica is ignored by Portia and the others at Belmont. Her testimony against her father may be an attempt to prove her loyalty to the Christian cause, but the coldness of Portia, Bassanio, and the others is an understandable reaction—after all, she is a Jew and the daughter of their antagonist. Lorenzo may love her, but she remains an object of suspicion for the others.

Act III, scenes iii–v
→
Summary: Act III, scene iii

Shylock escorts the bankrupt Antonio to prison. Antonio pleads with Shylock to listen, but Shylock refuses. Remembering the many times Antonio condemned him as a dog, Shylock advises the merchant to beware of his bite. Assured that the duke will grant him justice, Shylock insists that he will have his bond and tells the jailer not to bother speaking to him of mercy. Solanio declares that Shylock is the worst of men, and Antonio reasons that the Jew hates him for bailing out many of Shylock’s debtors. Solanio attempts to comfort Antonio by suggesting that the duke will never allow such a ridiculous contract to stand, but Antonio is not convinced. Venice, Antonio claims, is a wealthy trading city with a great reputation for upholding the law, and if the duke breaks that law, Venice’s economy may suffer. As Solanio departs, Antonio prays desperately that Bassanio will arrive to “see me pay his debt, and then I care not” (III.iii.36).
Summary: Act III, scene iv

Lorenzo assures Portia that Antonio is worthy of all the help she is sending him, and that if Portia only knew the depths of Antonio’s love and goodness, she would be proud of her efforts to save him. Portia replies that she has never regretted doing a good deed, and goes on to say that she could never deny help to anyone so close to her dear Bassanio. Indeed, Antonio and Bassanio are so inseparable that Portia believes saving her husband’s friend is no different than saving her own husband. She has sworn to live in prayer and contemplation until Bassanio returns to her, and announces that she and Nerissa will retire to a nearby monastery. Lorenzo and Jessica, she declares, will rule the estate in her absence.

Portia then sends her servant, Balthasar, to Padua, where he is to meet her cousin, Doctor Bellario, who will provide Balthasar with certain documents and clothing. From there, Balthasar will take the ferry to Venice, where Portia will await him. After Balthasar departs, Portia informs Nerissa that the two of them, dressed as young men, are going to pay an incognito visit to their new husbands. When Nerissa asks why, Portia dismisses the question, but promises to disclose the whole of her purpose on the coach ride to Venice.
Summary: Act III, scene v

Quoting the adage that the sins of the father shall be delivered upon the children, Launcelot says he fears for Jessica’s soul. When Jessica claims that she will be saved by her marriage to Lorenzo, Launcelot complains that the conversion of the Jews, who do not eat pork, will have disastrous consequences on the price of bacon. Lorenzo enters and chastises Launcelot for impregnating a Moorish servant. Launcelot delivers a dazzling series of puns in reply and departs to prepare for dinner. When Lorenzo asks Jessica what she thinks of Portia, she responds that the woman is without match, nearly perfect in all respects. Lorenzo jokes that he is as good a spouse as Portia, and leads them off to dinner.
Analysis: Act III, scenes iii–v

Once the play reaches Act III, scene iii, it is difficult to sympathize with Shylock. Whatever humiliations he has suffered at Antonio’s hands are repaid when he sees the Christian merchant in shackles. Antonio may have treated the moneylender badly, but Shylock’s pursuit of the pound of flesh is an exercise in naked cruelty. In this scene, Shylock’s narrowly focused rhetoric becomes monomaniacal in its obsession with the bond. “I’ll have my bond. Speak not against my bond,” (III.iii.4) he insists, and denies attempts at reason when he says, “I’ll have no speaking. I will have my bond” (III.iii.17). When Antonio tells Solanio that Shylock is getting revenge for his practice of lending money without interest, he seems to miss the bigger picture. Shylock’s mind has been warped into obsession not by Antonio alone, but by the persecutions visited on him by all of Christian Venice. He has taken Antonio as the embodiment of all his persecutors so that, in his pound of flesh, he can avenge himself against everyone.

The institution of law comes to the forefront of the play in these scenes, and we may be tempted to view the law as a sort of necessary evil, a dogmatic set of rules that can be forced to serve the most absurd requests. In the thirty-six lines that make up Act III, scene iii, Shylock alludes to revenge in only the vaguest of terms, but repeats the word “bond” no less than six times. He also frequently invokes the concept of justice. Law is cast as the very backbone of the Venetian economy, as Antonio expresses when he makes the grim statement that “[t]he duke cannot deny the course of law. . . . / . . . / Since that the trade and profit of the city / Consisteth of all nations” (III.iii.26–31). Trade is the city’s lifeblood, and an integral part of trade is ensuring that merchants of all religions and nationalities are extended the same protections as full-blooded Venetian citizens. In principle, the duke’s inability to bend the law is sound, as the law upholds the economy that has allowed Antonio and his friends to thrive. However, Shylock’s furious rants about justice and his bond make it seem as if his very law-abiding nature has perverted a bastion of Christian uprightness.

Shylock remains in control of events in Venice, but Portia, his antagonist, is now moving against him. Her cross-dressing is a device typical of women in Shakespeare’s comedies. Indeed, the play has already shown Jessica dressed as a boy in her escape from Shylock’s house. Dressing as a man is necessary since Portia is about to play a man’s part, appearing as member of a male profession. The demands placed upon her by her father’s will are gone, and she feels free to act and to prove herself more intelligent and capable than the men around her.

The conversation between Jessica and Launcelot in Act III, scene v, does little to advance the plot. It acts as comic relief and conveys the impression of time passing while the various characters converge on the Venetian courtroom. Jessica’s subsequent description of Portia’s perfection to her husband is odd, given how little attention Portia paid to her, but Jessica recognizes that Portia is the center of the social world that she hopes to join.

Act IV, scene i, lines 1–163
→
Summary
. . . [A]ffection,
Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood
Of what it likes or loathes.
. . .
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodged hate and a certain loathing
I bear Antonio, that I follow thus
A losing suit against him. Are you answered?
(See Important Quotations Explained)
In Venice, the Court convenes for Antonio’s trial. The duke of Venice greets Antonio and expresses pity for him, calling Shylock an inhuman monster who can summon neither pity nor mercy. Antonio says he knows the duke has done all that he can to lawfully counter Shylock’s malicious intentions, and that since nothing else can be done, Antonio will respond to Shylock’s rage “with a quietness of spirit” (IV.i.11). The duke summons Shylock into the courtroom and addresses him, saying that he believes that Shylock means only to frighten Antonio by extending this drama to the brink of performance. No one, the duke says, believes that Shylock actually means to inflict such a horrible penalty on Antonio, who has already suffered the loss of his ships. Shylock reiterates his intentions and says that should the court deny him his right, the city’s very laws and freedoms will be forfeit. Shylock offers no explanation for his insistence other than to say that certain hatreds, like certain passions, are lodged deep within a person’s heart. Shylock hates Antonio, and for him that is reason enough.
Bassanio, who has arrived from Belmont, attempts to argue with Shylock, but Antonio tells him that his efforts are for naught. Hatred and predation, Antonio suggests, come as naturally to some men as they do to the wolf. Bassanio offers Shylock six thousand ducats, twice the amount of the original loan, but Shylock turns down the offer, saying he would not forfeit his bond for six times that sum. When the duke asks Shylock how he expects to receive mercy when he offers none, Shylock replies that he has no need for mercy, as he has done nothing wrong. Just as the slave-owning Christians of Venice would refuse to set their human property free, Shylock will not relinquish the pound of flesh that belongs to him.
The duke says that he has sent messages to the learned lawyer, Doctor Bellario, asking him to come and decide on the matter. News comes that a messenger has arrived from Bellario, and Salarino runs off to fetch him. Meanwhile, Bassanio tries, without much success, to cheer up the despairing Antonio. Nerissa enters, disguised as a lawyer’s clerk, and gives the duke a letter from Bellario. Shylock whets his knife, anticipating a judgment in his favor, and Gratiano accuses him of having the soul of a wolf. Shylock ignores these slurs and states resolutely, “I stand here for law” (IV.i.141). The duke alludes to the fact that Bellario’s letter mentions a learned young lawyer named Balthasar, and orders the disguised Nerissa to admit the young man to the court. The duke then reads the letter in its entirety. In it, Bellario writes that he is ill and cannot come to court, but that he has sent the learned young Balthasar to judge in his stead.
You will answer ‘The slaves are ours.’ So do I answer you.
The pound of flesh which I demand of him
Is dearly bought. ‘Tis mine, and I will have it.
(See Important Quotations Explained)
Analysis
The trial scene is the longest in the play and stands as one of the most dramatic scenes in all of Shakespeare. A number of critics have raised questions about the accuracy and fairness of the courtroom proceedings: the presiding duke is far from impartial; Portia appears as an unbiased legal authority, when in fact she is married to the defendant’s best friend; and she appears in disguise, under a false name. These points would seem to stack the deck against Shylock, but if the trial is not just, then the play is not just, and it ceases to be a comedy. Thus, while Portia bends the rules of the court, her decision is nonetheless legally accurate. More important for the cause of justice, the original bond was made under false pretenses—Shylock lied when he told Antonio that he would never collect the pound of flesh. Therefore, Portia’s actions restore justice instead of pervert it.
The portion of the scene that passes before Portia’s entrance shows a triumphant and merciless Shylock. When asked to explain his reasons for wanting Antonio’s flesh, he says, “I am not bound to please thee with my answers” (IV.i.64). The only answer that the court gets, ultimately, is that Shylock merely emulates Christian behavior. Just as some Christians hate cats, pigs, and rats, Shylock hates Antonio. Just as some Christians own slaves, Shylock owns a pound of Antonio’s flesh. Shylock has the law on his side, and his chief emotion seems to be outrage that Christian Venice would deny him what is rightfully his. Shylock is not so much attacking the Venetian worldview as demanding that he be allowed to share in it. His speech about slavery is emphatically not an antislavery diatribe: he is in favor owning people, as long as he can own Antonio. In spite of itself, Venetian society is made an accomplice to Shylock’s murderous demands, and while this complicity certainly does not exonerate Shylock, it has the almost equally desirable effect of bringing everyone else down with him. Shylock’s intention is not to condemn the institution of slavery, and certainly not to urge its eradication—it is to express that his urges simply mirror those already found among wealthy Venetians, and to demand that his desires be greeted with the same respect.
The trial is not modeled on the English legal system. The duke presides and sentences, but a legal expert—in this case, Portia—renders the actual decision. This absolute power is appropriate for her character because she alone has the strength to wield it. None of the men seem a match for Shylock: Gratiano shouts and curses with anti-Semitic energy, Bassanio pleads uselessly, and Antonio seems resigned to his fate. Indeed, Antonio seems almost eager for his execution, saying, “I am a tainted wether of the flock, / Meetest for death” (IV.i.113–114). Antonio has been melancholy from the play’s beginning, and now he has found a cause to suit his unhappiness. He may be the focus of Shylock’s hate, but he is less an antagonist than a victim. It is left to Portia to put a stop to the moneylender and to restore the comedy—something in short supply in Shylock’s courtroom—to the play.

Act IV, scene i, lines 164–396
→
Summary
. . . 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. . . .
(See Important Quotations Explained)
Portia enters, disguised as Balthasar. The duke greets her and asks whether she is familiar with the circumstances of the case. Portia answers that she knows the case well, and the duke calls Shylock and Antonio before her. Portia asks Antonio if he admits to owing Shylock money. When Antonio answers yes, Portia concludes that the Jew must be merciful. Shylock asks why he must show mercy, and, in one of the play’s most famous speeches, Portia responds that “[t]he quality of mercy is not strained,” but is a blessing to both those who provide and those who receive it (IV.i.179). Because mercy is an attribute of God, Portia reasons, humans approach the divine when they exercise it. Shylock brushes aside her pretty speech, however, by reiterating his demands for justice and revenge.
Portia asks whether Antonio is able to pay the money, and Bassanio offers Shylock twice the sum owed. If need be, Bassanio says, he is willing to pay the bond ten times over, or with his own life. Bassanio begs the court to bend the law slightly in order to exonerate Antonio, reasoning that such a small infraction is a little wrong for a great right. Portia replies, however, that the law shall not be broken—the decrees of Venice must stand. Shylock joyfully extols Portia’s wisdom, and gives her the bond for inspection. She looks it over, declares it legal and binding, and bids Shylock to be merciful. Shylock remains deaf to reason, however, and Portia tells Antonio to prepare himself for the knife. She orders Shylock to have a surgeon on hand to prevent the merchant from bleeding to death, but Shylock refuses because the bond stipulates no such safeguard.
Antonio bids Bassanio farewell. He asks his friend not to grieve for him and tells Bassanio that he is happy to sacrifice his life, if only to prove his love. Both Bassanio and Gratiano say that, though they love their wives, they would give them up in order to save Antonio. In a pair of sarcastic asides, Portia and Nerissa mutter that Bassanio’s and Gratiano’s wives are unlikely to appreciate such sentiments. Shylock is on the verge of cutting into Antonio when Portia suddenly reminds him that the bond stipulates a pound of flesh only, and makes no allowances for blood. She urges Shylock to continue collecting his pound of flesh, but reminds him that if a drop of blood is spilled, then he will be guilty of conspiring against the life of a Venetian citizen and all his lands and goods will be confiscated by the state. Stunned, Shylock hastily backpedals, agreeing to accept three times the sum, but Portia is insistent, saying that Shylock must have the pound of flesh or nothing. When Shylock finds out that he cannot even take the original three thousand ducats in place of the pound of flesh, he drops the case, but Portia stops him, reminding him of the penalty that noncitizens face when they threaten the life of a Venetian. In such a case, Portia states, half of Shylock’s property would go to the state, while the other half would go to the offended party—namely, Antonio. Portia orders Shylock to beg for the duke’s mercy.
The duke declares that he will show mercy: he spares Shylock’s life and demands only a fine, rather than half of the Jew’s estate. Shylock claims that they may as well take his life, as it is worthless without his estate. Antonio offers to return his share of Shylock’s estate, on the condition that Shylock convert to Christianity and bequeath all his goods to Jessica and Lorenzo upon his death. Shylock consents and departs, saying simply, “I am not well” (IV.i.392).
Analysis
In the course of this section of Act IV, scene i, Portia not only releases Antonio from his bond, but effectively strips Shylock of both his religion and his livelihood, rendering him unable to inflict, or even threaten, further damage. This outcome is little surprising given that the circumstances of the trial seem designed to ensure Shylock’s defeat. The genre of comedy demands that Shakespeare dispatch his villain before ushering in a happy ending. Indeed, Shakespeare’s sixteenth-century audience never doubts Shylock’s fate. Neither the duke, who begins proceedings by declaring Shylock an “inhuman wretch,” nor the disguised Portia are impartial judges (IV.i.3). Shylock must fall, and fall he certainly does, but our response to witnessing his fall may be mixed. Audiences in Elizabethan England most likely met Shylock’s demise with something like Gratiano’s cruel and ecstatic glee. In a society that not only craved cultural homogeneity but took drastic measures to attain it, few would have been troubled by the implications of Shylock’s forced conversion. Shakespeare’s contemporaries, the majority of whom assumed that eternal damnation was the fate of any non-Christian, would have witnessed Shylock’s conversion as a vital contribution to the play’s happy ending. By turning Shylock into a Christian, the Venetians satisfy themselves with their own kindness in saving the soul of a heathen. Audiences today find laughing at Shylock to be much harder.
Many readers find it difficult to rejoice in Portia’s victory. Ultimately, Shylock’s pursuit of a strict letter-of-the-law brand of justice, which makes no allowance for anything that even approaches compassion, undoes him. He proves blind to everything other than the stipulations of his bond, refusing even to summon a doctor to attend to Antonio’s wounds. But we may feel that the punishment Portia exacts is too heavy. Perhaps the court’s verdict fits Shylock’s crimes, but the court indulges in an equally literal and severe reading of the law in order to effect the same vicious end: the utter annihilation of a human being. Before doling out Shylock’s punishment, the duke assures him that he will “see the difference of our spirit,” but the spirit of the Venetians proves to be as vindictive as the Jew’s (IV.i.363). The duke spares Shylock’s life, but takes away his ability to practice his profession and his religion. In the course of the play, Shylock has lost his servant, his daughter, his fortune, and a treasured ring given to him by his dead wife. He will forfeit his estate to the man responsible for stealing his daughter, and he will abandon his religion for one that forbids him from practicing the trade by which he earns his livelihood. Modern audiences cannot help but view Shylock as a victim. He has become a tragic figure in a comedy that has no place for a character so complex.

Act IV, scene i, lines 397–453; scene ii
→
Summary: Act IV, scene i, lines 397–453
After Shylock leaves, the duke invites Portia, still in the disguise of a young lawyer, to dinner. Portia declines, saying that she must leave immediately for Padua. As she leaves, the duke tells Antonio to reward the young law clerk, since it was he who saved Antonio’s life. Bassanio thanks Portia, though he does not see through her disguise, and offers her the money he brought with him in order to pay off Shylock. Portia declines the gift and says that having delivered Antonio from Shylock’s clutches is payment enough. Bassanio insists that she take some token from him, and she eventually agrees. Portia asks Antonio for his gloves and Bassanio for his ring, which she herself gave Bassanio on the condition that he never part with it. Bassanio pulls his hand away, calling the ring a trifle and claiming that he will not dishonor the judge by giving him such a lowly gift. Instead, Bassanio offers to find the most valuable ring in Venice, but Portia remains firm, and demands the trifle or nothing. When Bassanio admits that the ring was a gift from his wife, who made him promise never to part with it, Portia claims that the excuse is convenient and used by many men to hold onto possessions they would rather not lose. With that, she takes her leave. Antonio urges Bassanio to let the law clerk have the ring, saying that he should value Antonio’s love and the gentleman’s worth more than his wife’s orders. Bassanio gives in and sends Gratiano to run after Portia and present her with the ring. Antonio and Bassanio then leave for Antonio’s house to plan their trip to Belmont.
Summary: Act IV, scene ii
Meanwhile, Portia sends Nerissa to Shylock’s house to ensure that Shylock signs the deed that will leave his fortune to Lorenzo and Jessica. Portia observes that Lorenzo will be happy to have this document. Once they complete this task, the disguised women plan to leave for Belmont, which will ensure their arrival a full day before their husbands’. Gratiano enters, offers Bassanio’s ring to Portia, and invites her to dinner. Portia accepts the ring, but declines the invitation. Portia asks Gratiano to show Nerissa to Shylock’s house, and Nerissa, before leaving, tells Portia that she will likewise try to convince Gratiano to part with his ring. The plan satisfies Portia, who imagines how Gratiano and Bassanio will swear up and down that they gave their rings to men, and looks forward to embarrassing them. Nerissa turns to Gratiano and asks him to lead her to Shylock’s house.
Analysis: Act IV, scene i, lines 397–453; scene ii
By the end of Act IV, Shakespeare has resolved the play’s two primary plots: the casket game has delivered to Portia her rightful suitor, and the threat presented by Shylock has been eliminated. Structurally, this resolution makes The Merchant of Venice atypical of Shakespeare’s comedies, which usually feature a wedding as a means of dispelling evils from and restoring rightness to the world. Here, however, the lovers are already wed, and the aftertaste of Shylock’s trial is rather bitter, especially to modern audiences. In order to sweeten his story, returning us to the unmistakable province of comedy, Shakespeare launches a third plot involving the exchange of the rings. Perhaps Shakespeare recognized the ambivalence with which we would greet Shylock’s demise and felt the need to reassert simple joy over the dark dramas of Venice. Life in blissful Belmont depends upon it.
Many critics have noted that the character of Shylock necessitates this rather forced return to the comedic. As one of Shakespeare’s most powerful and memorable creations, Shylock looms large over the play, and though he is not seen again after exiting the court, he remains lodged in our memory. In order for the lovers to enjoy a typically unadulterated happy ending, the angry, potentially victimized specter of Shylock must first be exorcised from the stage. The ring game is Shakespeare’s means of reasserting levity. Many critics consider Shylock a character who “ran away” from the playwright. Shylock may have started out as a familiar character: a two-dimensional villain in the red fright wig that European Jews were once required to wear. However, he emerges as an extremely intelligent man who has suffered profound mistreatment. Shakespeare provides Shylock with motivation for his malice, which raises Shylock above the level of evildoing bogeyman and makes his passions, no matter how terrible, at least comprehensible. For this reason, few modern audiences cheer when the Venetian court destroys Shylock. Our response to the Jew’s demise is likely to be much more complicated and ambivalent. The lovers’ exchange of the rings helps reposition the play as a comedy.
In devising the game in which Bassanio sacrifices his wedding ring, Portia once again proves herself cleverer and more competent than any of the men with whom she shares the stage. The ring game tests the boundaries of the homoerotic relationship between Antonio and Bassanio, for Antonio claims that his friend’s love for him should “[b]e valued ‘gainst your wife’s commandment” (IV.i.447). Bassanio’s willingness to part with the ring might signal a form of infidelity to his wife, but we feel little anxiety over it. Once Shylock makes his way offstage, the mood of the play is decidedly light. In other words, boundaries are tested, but they are not crossed. As the comedy genre demands, whatever wrongs have been committed will be forgiven summarily. When, at the end of Act IV, scene ii, Portia tells Nerissa that “we shall have old swearing / That they did give the rings away to men. / But we’ll outface them, and outswear them too,” we anticipate a frolicsome display of Portia’s wit, not an untimely and costly battle of irreconcilable differences (IV.ii.15–17).

Act V, scene i
→
Summary
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stategems, and spoils.
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus.
(See Important Quotations Explained)
In moonlit Belmont, Jessica and Lorenzo compare themselves to famous lovers from classical literature, like Troilus and Cressida, Pyramus and Thisbe, and Dido and Aeneas. The couple goes back and forth with endless declarations of love, when a messenger suddenly interrupts them. The messenger informs them that Portia will soon return from the monastery, and Lorenzo and Jessica prepare to greet the mistress of the house. Launcelot enters and announces that Bassanio will return to Belmont the next day. Lorenzo calls for music, and he and Jessica sit on a grassy bank beneath the stars. Lorenzo contemplates the music made by the movement of heavenly orbs, which mortal humans cannot hear while alive. The musicians arrive and begin to play, and Lorenzo decides that anyone who is not moved by music deserves the worst cruelties and betrayals.
Portia and Nerissa enter and hear the music before they reach the estate. Portia believes that the music is made more beautiful by the night, and the flickering candles lighting up her estate enchant her. She decides that the worth of things is determined largely by the context in which they are experienced. Lorenzo greets Portia, and she requests that he not mention her absence to her husband. Trumpets sound as Bassanio, Antonio, and Gratiano arrive. Portia greets Bassanio, who introduces her to Antonio, who reports in turn that he has been acquitted in the courts of Venice. Gratiano and Nerissa begin to argue over the ring with which he promised never to part. Nerissa chastises her husband not for hurting her feelings, but for breaking his own promise. Gratiano insists that he gave the ring to a lawyer’s clerk as a fee, and Portia criticizes him for parting with so precious a gift, saying that her own husband would never have parted with his ring. Gratiano corrects her and reveals that Bassanio has, in fact, given his ring to the lawyer who saved Antonio. Portia declares that her husband’s heart is as empty as his finger, and she promises never to visit his bed until he produces the ring.
Bassanio pleads with Portia to understand that he gave the ring to a worthy man to whom he was indebted, but Portia dismisses his reasoning, saying it is more likely that Bassanio gave the ring to another woman. Portia vows to be equally unfaithful, threatening to offer the same worthy man anything she owns, including her body or her husband’s bed. Antonio intercedes on behalf of Bassanio and Gratiano, asking the women to accept his soul should either Bassanio or Gratiano prove unfaithful again. Portia and Nerissa relent, giving each of their husbands a ring and suggesting that they exercise more care in keeping these rings. Bassanio and Gratiano recognize these as the same rings they gave to the lawyer and his clerk, and Portia and Nerissa claim that they lay with the gentlemen in order to get back the rings. Before either Bassanio or Gratiano can become too upset at being cuckolded, however, Portia reveals that she was the lawyer in Venice, and Nerissa her clerk. Antonio receives news that some of his ships have miraculously arrived in port, and Lorenzo is told that he will inherit Shylock’s fortune. The company rejoices in its collective good fortune.
Analysis
In comparison to the preceding trial scene, Act V is decidedly lighter in tone. The play delivers the happy ending required of a comedy: the lovers are restored to their loving relationships, Antonio’s supposedly lost ships arrive miraculously in port, and no threatening presence looms in the distance to suggest that this happiness is only temporary. The idyllic quality of life in Belmont has led some critics to declare that The Merchant of Venice is a “fairy story” into which the dark and dramatic figure of Shylock trespasses. Certainly the language of the play returns to the realm of comedic romance after Shylock’s departure. Before Shylock shocks the play with his morbid reality, Salarino is free to envision a shipwreck as a lovely scattering of “spices on the stream” (I.i.33). Now that Shylock has been banished, Lorenzo imagines that the each star in the sky produces music as it moves, “choiring to the young-eyed cherubins” (V.i.61). In describing the “sweet power of music” to Jessica, Lorenzo claims that such sounds have the ability to tame even the wildest beasts (V.i.78). Thus, as the music plays on the hills of Belmont, the characters seem confident that the forces requiring taming—Shylock and his bloodlust—have been suppressed, leaving them to enjoy the “concord of sweet sounds” (V.i.83).
But if the play’s end seems reminiscent of a fairy tale, it is also likely to evoke some of the same ambivalence with which we greet Shylock’s demise. For example, Jessica and Lorenzo begin Act V by comparing themselves to a catalogue of famous lovers. They mean to place themselves in a pantheon of romantic figures whose love was so great that it inspired praise from generations of poets, but all of the lovers named—Troilus and Cressida, Pyramus and Thisbe, Dido and Aeneas, Medea and Jason—end tragically. Newlyweds should not necessarily hope to take their place in this lineup, as it promises misunderstanding, betrayal, and death.
Shakespeare spares us such tragedy, but he does load the ending with misunderstanding and betrayal, albeit in a comic form. Portia and Nerissa work their husbands into a frenzy, but they also know when to stop. As soon as Bassanio declares himself a cuckold, Portia begs him to “[s]peak not so grossly” and unveils the means by which she secured his ring (V.i.265). Thus, Bassanio and Gratiano are folded back into their wives’ good graces. The play ends with Gratiano asserting that “while I live I’ll fear no other thing / So sore as keeping safe Nerissa’s ring” (V.i.305–306). The line suggests that he will not only safeguard the band of gold his wife gave him, but will also strive to keep her sexually satisfied so that she has no reason to cuckold him. But here, too, a shadow steals over the finale of celebratory reconciliation, for we wonder if Bassanio and Gratiano have what it takes to keep up with their wives. Nowhere in the play—not even when Bassanio chooses the correct casket—do the men come close to matching Portia’s wit or cleverness. Although Shakespeare leaves these issues offstage, we cannot help but feel that dangers have not so much been expelled from the world as kept at bay. Happiness reigns in Belmont, if only for the time being. As Portia approaches her estate to find a candle burning brightly, she notes with surprise, “How far that little candle throws his beams— / So shines a good deed in a naughty world” (V.i.89–90). Here, she frames a glimmer of light, of happiness or hope, as a surprisingly beautiful but always temporary condition in a dark and dangerous world. As far as happy endings go, perhaps we can ask for little more.

The Merchant of Venice: Comedy or Tragedy?
Ads by Google
5 Signs of Alzheimer's www.newsmax.com
Doctor: 5 Warning Signs You're About to Get Alzheimer's Disease

Source: Daniel Dendy: The Merchant of Venice | The Merchant of Venice (Norton Critical Editions)Amazon Price: $5.00 | | William Shakespeare's The Merchant of VeniceAmazon Price: $7.28
List Price: $14.99 | | The Merchant of Venice (SparkNotes No Fear Shakespeare)Amazon Price: $2.45
List Price: $5.95 |
Ads by Google
Shakespeare Backstage www.travelmedford.org
Experience the extraordinary Elizabethan Theatre backstage
Shakespeare for Seekers www.TroubadourPublications.com
Discover Shakespeare. Meaning of his plays and sonnets.
Cheap Venice Hotel EuropeUpClose.com/Venice_Hotels
Compare Hotels In Venice. Find The Cheapest Hotels Online.
The works of William Shakespeare are regarded the world over for their unique insight into the human condition. Although on the surface, Shakespeare’s writings frequently appear to uphold the Elizabethan status quo, for example making the illegitimate Edmund a villain in King Lear and Henry VII a kind of Tudor saint in Richard III, there are usually underlying messages to be found that an Elizabethan audience would have considered subversive. Because of the time in which he wrote, Shakespeare had to be subtle in his expression of radical ideas, a fact which, rather than serving as a hindrance, has greatly enriched his writings, leaving them open to many different interpretations and allowing audiences to come to their own conclusions rather than self-righteously bludgeoning them about the head and neck with an obvious “moral of the story.”
This is especially evident in The Merchant of Venice. Written around 1596 or 1597, The Merchant of Venice heavily reflects the anti-Semitism of its time. Throughout the Renaissance, Jews were hated in Christian Europe, largely for their biblical connection with the crucifixion of Christ and for their status as usurers, one of the few professions allowed to them in a largely Christian society. Exacerbating the problem were laws which kept Jews segregated in ghettos and religious concerns of Orthodox Judaism which prevented Jews from associating too closely with Christians, such as the kosher food requirements cited by Shylock in his response to Bassanio’s dinner invitation in the third scene of act one:
Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet the Nazarite conjured the devil into. 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.
In a superstitious age, this legally and religiously enforced separatism contributed to anti-Semitic suspicions, and Jews were frequently blamed for such nefarious acts as causing outbreaks of plague by poisoning well water and using the blood of Christian children to bake unleavened bread (Swale).
The Jews had been banned from England in 1290 by Edward I, and 1492 and 1497 had seen the expulsion of the Jews from Spain and Portugal respectively (Loomba). Although many converted Jews returned to England, they were treated with suspicion and frequently regarded as secretly Jewish, which they may well have been. In Spain, the English were accused of harboring Sephardic Jews, and in England, Iberian Jews were accused of harboring Spanish or Portuguese sympathies. Anti-Jewish sentiment reached its height in England in 1594, when Elizabeth I’s Portuguese-Jewish physician, Roderigo Lopez, was tried and convicted of attempting to poison the queen. He was hung, drawn, and quartered at Tyburn, followed very closely by a revival of Christopher Marlowe’s popular anti-Semitic play,The Jew of Malta, and the first performances of The Merchant of Venice soon after (Loomba, Swale).
To an Elizabethan audience, The Merchant of Venice was a comedy in which the virtues of Christian New Testament mercy triumphed over the harshness of Jewish Old Testament justice. On the surface, the play conforms exactly to the anti-Semitic standards of its time. Shylock holds the stereotypical Jewish occupation of moneylender and is portrayed as cruel, bloodthirsty, and materialistic. He hates Christians and values money above all else, including his own family. When his daughter Jessica elopes with a Christian, taking with her money and jewels, it is his material possessions that he mourns, lamenting in an inhuman and unfatherly manner:
I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear! would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin!
Thirsting for Christian blood, Shylock tries to kill the goodly Christian merchant, Antonio, who in a display of Christlike self-sacrifice, is willing to give his life to help his friend, Bassanio. In the end, Shylock is thwarted by strict adherence to the same law he tried to manipulate to his advantage. He is only spared his life, which the same “justice” he demanded would have forfeit, by the power of Christian “mercy,” which also spares his soul by forcing his conversion to Christianity. With the Jewish menace eliminated, the fifth act sees three good Christian couples married in a typical comedic happy ending.

This obvious and anti-Semitic interpretation of The Merchant of Venice has been upheld by many into modern times. Although Restoration theatre did not see immediate revivals of The Merchant of Venice, it did produce an adaptation by George Granville, titled The Jew of Venice in which Shylock is portrayed as a clown (Swale). Later, actual revivals of Shakespeare’s play featured Shylock as “a decrepit old man, bent with age and ugly with mental deformity, grinning with deadly menace” (Swale). German Nazis in the 1930s even used the play as part of their anti-Jewish propaganda campaign, and beginning in 1912, the play’s anti-Semitic elements even prompted the Jewish Anti-Defamation League to protest against its use in schools (Lerner, Swale).

Many modern readers, however, have interpreted the play differently. As early as 1709, Nicholas Rowe wrote of The Jew of Venice, “Though we have seen that play received and acted as a comedy… I cannot but think it was designed tragically by the author. There appears in it such a deadly spirit of revenge, such a savage fierceness and fellness… as cannot agree with either style or characters of comedy” (Loomba). More tragic presentations of The Merchant of Venice followed.
In the nineteenth century, Sir Henry Irving portrayed Shylock as a sympathetic figure, persecuted and distraught over the loss of his daughter (Swale). Although this interpretation was met with criticism from such prominent figures as Henry James and George Bernard Shaw, who resented the depiction of Shylock as “a martyred saint,” similar portrayals of Shylock followed, including those of such famous actors as Laurence Olivier and Peter O’Toole (Swale).
In his Madchen und Frauen, German writer Heinrich Heine writes of a woman who wept at seeing the verdict turned against Shylock in the fourth act of the play. “And when I think about those tears,” writes Heine, “I have to count The Merchant of Venice among the tragedies, although the framework of the play is decorated with the liveliest masques, images of satyrs and cupids, and although the poet actually wanted to give us a comedy” (Lerner).
It is debatable, of course, how Shakespeare “wanted” us to interpret The Merchant of Venice. The time in which Shakespeare wrote was extremely hostile to Jewry, and thus the performance of an openly pro-Jewish play in England would not have been possible. However, The Merchant of Venice may easily be interpreted by modern or simply more sympathetic audiences, as Heine suggests, as the tragedy of Shylock, rather than the comedy of Antonio. Assuming that Shakespeare, with his legendary insight into the human condition, had intended to defend rather than refute the humanity of Jews, framing a pro-Jewish tragedy within a pro-Christian comedy would have been an ingenious method of doing so. Even if Shakespeare did not intend this, such a tragic interpretation is still an eminently defensible conclusion to draw from the text.

Although Shylock, as a detested minority, does not begin the play as a more conventional tragic hero might, at the height of society, with a great distance to fall, he does have wealth, financial power, and a deep connection to his faith. He loses all of these by the end of act four, forfeiting control over his wealth, the profession that granted him financial influence, and his identity as a Jew, all due to his tragic flaw of wrath. Although he does not die, he leaves the stage a broken man, presumably having learned not the value of mercy, as his Christian enemies are poor teachers, but the cruel lesson that it is futile to fight against the merciless Christian mainstream.

Truly, the Christians, for all their pretensions of mercy, and even Christianity itself, are neither merciful nor truly Christian. Portia criticizes Shylock with a lofty lecture on the value of mercy, arguing from an obviously Christian viewpoint:
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.
However, afterwards, when she has successfully turned the law against him, she proceeds not only to deny him the money that he had previously refused in favor of his bond, but also his life and property, hypocritically favoring “justice” over mercy, just as she accused Shylock of doing moments before. Although Shylock retains his life in the end, through Christian mercy, which is both slight and self-vaunting, he loses everything else: his dignity, his identity, and his profession. Indeed, it might be better stated that although Shylock survives to see the end of the play, he does not truly “retain his life.”

Although early interpretations of Shylock portray him as an evil Jewish caricature dressed in “the kind of red wig worn by Judas in the medieval miracle plays,” Shakespeare’s text defines him as a complex and occasionally sympathetic character, even if he is interpreted as a villain (Smith). Twisted by Christian cruelty, Shylock is a product of his environment, and might have been a better man, had society allowed him to be. Shylock mentions more than once that Antonio and the other Christians have spat upon him repeatedly in public and berated him, for no other reason beyond his religion and profession. “Thou call’dst me dog before thou hadst a cause,” Shylock tells Antonio, “But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs.” In Shylock we see, from the very beginning, a wronged man, and if he is evil, it is by example. In his famous speech “Hath not a Jew eyes?” Shylock holds up a mirror to a hypocritical Christian society, explaining:
If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? Why, revenge. The villainy you teach me I will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.
In villainy, Shylock does not lack for teachers. Although the eponymous character, Antonio, may be interpreted by anti-Semitic audiences as a Christlike figure, generous to his friends and unflinchingly self-sacrificing, he is cruel to Shylock “before thou hadst a cause,” and has thus brought his predicament upon himself. His friends are no better. Gratiano in particular mocks Shylock even after Portia has passed the sentence of death and forfeiture of property on him, gloating:

Beg that thou mayst have leave to hang thyself:
And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
Thou hast not yet the value of a cord.
Finally, Portia, although frequently upheld by critics as an exemplary Shakespearean woman, is both cruel and hypocritical. Apart from preaching the virtues of mercy to Shylock and subsequently crushing him, she is hypocritical towards the Moroccan prince, who from the start shows her nothing but the most gracious flattery. When, choosing the golden casket, he is refused, informed that, “All that glisters is not gold,” Portia gives him a rude farewell, saying, “A gentle riddance.—Draw the curtains, go.—Let all of his complexion choose me so.” Clearly, Portia herself pays no heed to the lesson of the golden casket, and instead judges the seemingly kindly and gallant prince entirely by the color of his skin. Indeed, Portia cruelly and selfishly berates all of her suitors, with the one exception of Bassanio, with no apparent justification at all, hardly the actions of a truly Christian spirit.
The critic A.D. Moody might have been most correct in stating that The Merchant of Venice may be interpreted in two entirely different and equally valid ways: first, at face value, as a comedy recommending New Testament mercy over Old Testament justice, and second, as a tragedy drawing attention to the faults of Christians who do not live up to the standards of their own religion (Swale). In Shylock, Shakespeare created a character both twisted with malice and downtrodden with prejudice. Whether that results in a tragedy of injustice or a comedy of justice is, as it should be, a decision left to the interpretation of the audience. | Progeny Press The Merchant of Venice Homeschool Literature Study Guide Current Bid: $.99 | | The Merchant of Venice : Texts and Contexts by William Shakespeare (1998,... Current Bid: $3.99 | | William Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice (DVD, 2005) Current Bid: $3.39 |