Act IV - The Merchant of Venice
Act IV - The Merchant of Venice
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.
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.
Act 4: Scene 1, Lines 164–396
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.