ready money; but luckily my credit is good in Venice, and I will
borrow for you what you need."
There was living in Venice at this time a rich money-lender, named
Shylock. Antonio despised and disliked this man very much, and
treated him with the greatest harshness and scorn. He would thrust
him, like a cur, over his threshold, and would even spit on him.
Shylock submitted to all these indignities with a patient shrug;
but deep in his heart he cherished a desire for revenge on the
rich, smug merchant. For Antonio both hurt his pride and injured
his business. "But for him," thought Shylock, "I should be richer
by half a million ducats. On the market place, and wherever he
can, he denounces the rate of interest I charge, and--worse than
that--he lends out money freely."
So when Bassanio came to him to ask for a loan of three thousand
ducats to Antonio for three months, Shylock hid his hatred, and
turning to Antonio, said--"Harshly as you have treated me, I would
be friends with you and have your love. So I will lend you the
money and charge you no interest. But, just for fun, you shall
sign a bond in which it shall be agreed that if you do not repay
me in three months' time, then I shall have the right to a pound
of your flesh, to be cut from what part of your body I choose."
"No," cried Bassanio to his friend, "you shall run no such risk
for me."
"Why, fear not," said Antonio, "my ships will be home a month
before the time, I will sign the bond."
Thus Bassanio was furnished with the means to go to Belmont,
there to woo the lovely Portia. The very night he started, the
money-lender's pretty daughter, Jessica, ran away from her
father's house with her lover, and she took with her from her
father's hoards some bags of ducats and precious stones. Shylock's
grief and anger were terrible to see. His love for her changed to
hate. "I would she were dead at my feet and the jewels in her
ear," he cried. His only comfort now was in hearing of the serious
losses which had befallen Antonio, some of whose ships were
wrecked. "Let him look to his bond," said Shylock, "let him look
to his bond."
Meanwhile Bassanio had reached Belmont, and had visited the fair
Portia. He found, as he had told Antonio, that the rumor of her
wealth and beauty had drawn to her suitors from far and near. But
to all of them Portia had but one reply. She would only accept
that suitor who would pledge himself to abide by the terms of her
father's will. These were conditions that frightened away many an
ardent wooer. For he who would win Portia's heart and hand, had to
guess which of three caskets held her portrait. If he guessed
aright, then Portia would be his bride; if wrong, then he was
bound by oath never to reveal which casket he chose, never to
marry, and to go away at once.
The caskets were of gold, silver, and lead. The gold one bore this
inscription:--"Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire";
the silver one had this:--"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he
deserves"; while on the lead one were these words:--"Who chooseth
me must give and hazard all he hath." The Prince of Morocco, as
brave as he was black, was among the first to submit to this test.
He chose the gold casket, for he said neither base lead nor silver
could contain her picture. So he chose the gold casket, and found
inside the likeness of what many men desire--death.
After him came the haughty Prince of Arragon, and saying, "Let me
have what I deserve--surely I deserve the lady," he chose the
silver one, and found inside a fool's head. "Did I deserve no more
than a fool's head?" he cried.
Then at last came Bassanio, and Portia would have delayed him from
making his choice from very fear of his choosing wrong. For she
loved him dearly, even as he loved her. "But," said Bassanio, "let
me choose at once, for, as I am, I live upon the rack."
Then Portia bade her servants to bring music and play while her
gallant lover made his choice. And Bassanio took the oath and
walked up to the caskets--the musicians playing softly the while.
"Mere outward show," he said, "is to be despised. The world is
still deceived with ornament, and so no gaudy gold or shining
silver for me. I choose the lead casket; joy be the consequence!"
And opening it, he found fair Portia's portrait inside, and he
turned to her and asked if it were true that she was his.
"Yes," said Portia, "I am yours, and this house is yours, and with
them I give you this ring, from which you must never part."
And Bassanio, saying that he could hardly
[Illustration: THEY WERE VERY TIRED WHEN AT LAST THEY CAME TO THE
FOREST OF ARDEN
From the painting by Charles Folkard ] speak for joy, found words
to swear that he would never part with the ring while he lived.
Then suddenly all his happiness was dashed with sorrow, for
messengers came from Venice to tell him that Antonio was ruined,
and that Shylock demanded from the Duke of Venice the fulfilment
of the bond, under which he was entitled to a pound of the
merchant's flesh. Portia was as grieved as Bassanio to hear of the
danger which threatened his friend.
"First," she said, "take me to church and make me your wife, and
then go to Venice at once to help your friend. You shall take with
you money enough to pay his debt twenty times over."
But when her newly-made husband had gone, Portia went after him,
and arrived in Venice disguised as a lawyer, and with an
introduction from a celebrated lawyer Bellario, whom the Duke of
Venice had called in to decide the legal questions raised by
Shylock's claim to a pound of Antonio's flesh. When the court met,
Bassanio offered Shylock twice the money borrowed, if he would
withdraw his claim. But the money-lender's only answer was--
"If every ducat in six thousand ducats Were in six parts, and
every part a ducat, I would not draw them,--I would have my bond"
It was then that Portia arrived in her disguise, and not even her
own husband knew her. The duke gave her welcome on account of the
great Bellario's introduction, and left the settlement of the case
to her. Then in noble words she bade Shylock have mercy. But he
was deaf to her entreaties. "I will have the pound of flesh," was
his reply.
"What have you to say?" asked Portia of the merchant.
"But little," he answered; "I am armed and well prepared."
"The court awards you a pound of Antonio's flesh," said Portia to
the money-lender.
"Most righteous judge!" cried Shylock. "A sentence: come,
prepare."
"Tarry a little. This bond gives you no right to Antonio's blood,
only to his flesh. If, then, you spill a drop of his blood, all
your property will be forfeited to the state. Such is the law."
And Shylock, in his fear, said, "Then I will take Bassanio's
offer."
"No," said Portia sternly, "you shall have nothing but your bond.
Take your pound of flesh, but remember, that if you take more or
less, even by the weight of a hair, you will lose your property
and your life."
Shylock now grew very much frightened. "Give me my three thousand
ducats that I lent him, and let him go."
Bassanio would have paid it to him, but said Portia, "No! He shall
have nothing but his bond."
"You, a foreigner," she added, "have sought to take the life of a
Venetian citizen, and thus by the Venetian law, your life and
goods are forfeited. Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke."
Thus were the tables turned, and no mercy would have been shown to
Shylock, had it not been for Antonio. As it was, the money-lender
forfeited half his fortune to the state, and he had to settle the
other half on his daughter's husband, and with this he had to be
content.
Bassanio, in his gratitude to the clever lawyer, was induced to
part with the ring his wife had given him, and with which he had
promised never to part, and when on his return to Belmont he
confessed as much to Portia, she seemed very angry, and vowed she
would not be friends with him until she had her ring again. But at
last she told him that it was she who, in the disguise of the
lawyer, had saved his friend's life, and got the ring from him. So
Bassanio was forgiven, and made happier than ever, to know how
rich a prize he had drawn in the lottery of the caskets.
PILGRIM'S PROGRESS _John Bunyan, the son of a man who mended
broken kettles and pans, a tinker, was born in England in 1628.
Though a wild lad, with little education, he married a splendid
wife who changed the evil course of his life and interested him in
religion.
This earnest, powerful, fighting Puritan preacher aroused his
congregation so much and so often that the authorities put him in
jail. Eight years before Bunyan's birth 74 Puritan men and 28
women, members of Dr. Robinson's church, escaped persecution by
sailing in the Mayflower and landing at Plymouth Rock. For twelve
years Bunyan was locked up in the little jail at the end of the
bridge at Bedford. He made laces to support his family, and read
the Bible and Fox's Book of Martyrs. Though an ignorant man, he
became deeply religious.
Except the Bible, and possibly Shakespeare, probably no other book
in the English language has been read by more people.
In the version here given the story has been condensed by omitting
the less dramatic passages, but the author's text remains
otherwise unchanged._
CHRISTIAN STARTS ON HIS JOURNEY
By John Bunyan
As I walk'd through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a
certain place where was a Den, and I laid me down in that place to
sleep; and as I slept, I dreamed a Dream. I dreamed, and behold I
saw a Man cloathed with Rags, standing in a certain place, with
his face from his own house, a Book in his hand, and a great
Burden upon his back.
I looked, and saw him open the Book, and read therein; and as he
read, he wept and trembled; and not being able longer to contain,
he brake out with a lamentable cry, saying, What shall I do?
I saw also that he looked this way and that way, as if he would
run; yet he stood still, because, as I perceived, he could not
tell which way to go. I looked then, and saw a man named
Evangelist, coming to him, and asked, Wherefore dost thou cry?
He answered, Sir, I perceive by the Book in my hand, that I am
condemned to die, and after that to come to Judgment, and I find
that I am not willing to do the first, nor able to do the second.
Then said Evangelist, If this be thy condition, why standest thou
still? He answered, Because I know not whither to go. Then he gave
him a _Parchment-roll_, and there was written within, _Fly
from the wrath to come_.
The Man therefore read it, and looking upon _Evangelist_ very
carefully, said, Whither must I fly?
Then said _Evangelist_, pointing with his finger over a very
wide field, Do you see yonder _Wicket-gate? The Man said, No.
Then sad the other, Do you see yonder shining Light? He said, I
think I do. then said _Evangelist_, Keep that Light in your
eye, and go up directly thereto: so shalt thou see the Gate; at
which, when thou knockest, it shall be told thee what thou shalt
do.
So I saw in my Dream that the Man began to run.
Now he had not run far from his own door, but his Wife and
Children, perceiving it, began to cry after him to return; but the
Man put his fingers in his ears, and ran on, crying, _Life!
Life! Eternal Life!_ So he looked not behind him, but fled
towards the middle of the Plain.
The Neighbors also came out to see him run; and as he ran, some
mocked, others threatened, and some cried after him to return; and
among those that did so, there were two that resolved to fetch him
back by force. The name of the one was _Obstinate_, and the
name of the other was _Pliable_. Now by this time the Man was
got a good distance from them; but however they were resolved to
pursue him, which they did, and in a little time they overtook
him. Then said the Man, Neighbors, wherefore are you come? They
said, To persuade you to go back with us. But he said, That can by
no means be; be content, good Neighbors, and go along with me.
OBST. What, said _Obstinate_, and leave our friends and our
comforts behind us!
CHR. Yes, said _Christian_, for that was his name, because
that _all_ which you shall forsake is not worthy to be compared
with a _little_ of that that I am seeking to enjoy; and if
you will go along with me and hold it, you shall fare as I
myself; for there where I go, is enough and to spare: Come away,
and prove my words. Read it so, if you will, in my Book.
OBST. Tush, said _Obstinate_, away with your Book; will you
go back with us or no?
CHR. No, not I, said the other, because I have laid my hand to the
Plow.
OBST. Come then, Neighbor _Pliable_, let us turn again, and
go home without him.
PLI. Well, Neighbor _Obstinate_, said _Pliable_, I
intend to go along with this good man, and to cast in my lot with
him.
Now I saw in my Dream, that when _Obstinate_ was gone back,
_Christian_ and _Pliable_ went talking over the Plain.
They drew near to a very miry _Slough_, that was in the midst
of the plain; and they, being heedless, did both fall suddenly
into the bog. The name of the slough was _Dispond_. Here they
wallowed for a time, being grievously bedaubed with the dirt; and
_Christian_, because of the Burden that was on his back,
began to sink in the mire.
PLI. Then said _Pliable_, Ah Neighbor _Christian_, where
are you now?
CHR. Truly, said Christian, I do not know.
PLI. At that Pliable began to be offended, and angerly said to his
fellow, Is this the happiness you have told me all this while of?
If we have such ill luck at our first setting out, what may we
expect 'twixt this and our Journey's end? May I get out again with
my life, you shall possess the Country alone. And with that he
gave a desperate struggle or two, and got out of the mire on that
side of the Slough which was next to his own house: so away he
went, and Christian saw him no more.
Wherefore Christian was left to tumble in the Slough of Dispond
alone; he endeavoured to struggle to the side of the Slough, but
could not get out, because of the Burden that was upon his back:
But I beheld in my Dream, that a man came to him, whose name was
Help, who said, Give me thy hand: so he gave him his hand, and he
drew him out, and set him upon sound ground, and bid him go on his
way.
EVAN. What doest thou here, Christian? Art not thou the man that I
found crying without the walls of the City of Destruction?
CHR. Yes, dear Sir, I am the man.
EVAN. Did not I direct thee the way to the little Wicket-gate?
CHR. Yes, dear Sir, said Christian.
EVAN. How is it then that thou art so quickly turned aside? for
thou art now out of the way.
CHR. I met with a Gentleman so soon as I had got over the Slough
of Dispond, who persuaded me that I might, in the village before
me, find a man that could take off my Burden.
EVAN. What was he?
CHR. He looked like a Gentleman, and talked much to me, and got me
at last to yield; so I came hither: but when I beheld this Hill,
and how it hangs over the way, I suddenly made a stand, lest it
should fall on my head.
EVAN. From this little Wicket-gate, and from the way thereto, hath
this wicked man turned thee, to the bringing of thee almost to
destruction; hate therefore his turning thee out of the way, and
abhor thyself for hearkening to him.
CHR. Sir, what think you? Is there hopes? May I now go back and go
up to the Wicket-gate? Shall I not be abandoned for this, and sent
back from thence ashamed? I am sorry I have hearkened to this
man's counsel: But may my sin be forgiven?
EVAN. Then said _Evangelist_ to him, Thy sin is very great,
yet will the man at the Gate receive thee, for he has good-will
for men. So _Christian_ went on with haste, neither spake he
to any man by the way; and in process of time he got up to the
Gate. Now over the Gate there was written, _Knock and it shall
be opened unto you._
He knocked therefore more than once or twice, and at last there
came a grave person to the gate named _Good-will_, who asked
Who was there? and whence he came? and what he would have?
CHR. I come from the City of _Destruction_, but am going to
Mount _Zion_, that I may be delivered from the wrath to come.
I would therefore, Sir, since I am informed that by this Gate is
the way thither, know if you are willing to let me in.
GOOD-WILL. I am willing with all my heart, said he; and with that
he opened the Gate. But how is it that you came alone?
CHR. Because none of my Neighbors saw their danger, as I saw mine.
GOOD-WILL. Did any of them know of your coming?
CHR. Yes, my Wife and Children saw me at the first, and called
after me to turn again; also some of my Neighbors stood crying and
calling after me to return; but I put my fingers in my ears, and
so came on my way.
GOOD-WILL. But did none of them follow you, to persuade you to go
back?
CHR. Yes, both _Obstinate_ and _Pliable_; but when they
saw that they could not prevail, _Obstinate_ went railing
back, but _Pliable_ came with me a little way.
GOOD-WILL. But why did he not come through?
CHR. We indeed came both together, until we came to the Slough of
_Dispond_, into the which we also suddenly fell. And then was
my Neighbor Pliable discouraged, and would not adventure further.
Wherefore getting out again on that side next to his own house, he
told me I should possess the brave country alone for him; so he
went _his_ way, and I came _mine_: he after _Obstinate_,
and I to this Gate.
_Christian_ began to gird up his loins, and to address
himself to his Journey. So the other told him, that some distance
from the Gate, he would come to the house of the _Interpreter_,
at whose door he should knock, and he would shew him excellent
things. Then _Christian_ took his leave of his Friend, and he
again bid him God speed.
THE INTERPRETER SHOWS CHRISTIAN MANY EXCELLENT THINGS
By John Bunyan
Christian went on till he came to the house of the
_Interpreter_, where he knocked over and over; at last one
came to the door, and asked Who was there?
CHR. Sir, here is a Traveller, who was bid by an acquaintance of
the good man of this house to call here for my profit; I would
therefore speak with the Master of the house. So he called for the
Master of the house, who after a little time came to _Christian_,
and asked him what he would have?
CHR. Sir, said Christian, I am a man that am come from the City of
_Destruction_, and am going to the Mount _Zion_; and I was
told by the Man that stands at the Gate at the head of this
way, that if I called here, you would shew me excellent things,
such as would be a help to me in my Journey.
INTER. Then said the Interpreter, Come in, I will shew thee that
which will be profitable to thee.
I saw moreover in my Dream, that the _Interpreter_ took him
by the hand, and had him into a little room, where sat two little
Children, each one in his chair. The name of the eldest was
_Passion_, and the name of the other _Patience_. _Passion_
seemed to be much discontent; but _Patience_ was very quiet.
Then _Christian_ asked, What is the reason of the discontent
of _Passion_? The _Interpreter_ answered, The Governor
of them would have him stay for his best things till the
beginning of the next year; but he will have all now; but _Patience_
is willing to wait.
Then I saw that one came to _Passion_, and brought him a bag
of treasure, and poured it down at his feet, the which he took up
and rejoiced therein; and withal, laughed _Patience_ to
scorn. But I beheld but a while, and he had lavished all away, and
had nothing left but Rags.
CHR. Then said _Christian_ to the _Interpreter_, Expound
this matter more fully to me.
INTER. So he said, These two Lads are figures: _Passion_, of
the men of _this_ world; and _Patience_, of the men of _that_
which is to come; for as here thou seest, _Passion_ will
have all now this year, that is to say, in this world; so
are the men of this world: they must have all their good
things now, they cannot stay till next year, that is, until
the next world, for their portion of good. That proverb, _A Bird
in the Hand is worth two in the Bush_, is of more authority
with them than are all the Divine testimonies of the good of the
world to come. But as thou sawest that he had quickly lavished all
away, and had presently left him nothing but Rags; so will it be
with all such men at the end of this world.
CHR. Then said _Christian_, Now I see that _Patience_
has the best wisdom, and that upon many accounts. 1. Because he
stays for the best things. 2. And also because he will have the
Glory of his, when the other has nothing but Rags.
INTER. Nay, you may add another, to wit, the glory of the
_next_ world will never wear out; but _these_ are suddenly
gone, Therefore _Passion_ had not so much reason to laugh
at _Patience_, because he had his good things first, as _Patience_
will have to laugh at _Passion_, because he had his best
things last; for _first_ must give place to _last_, because
_last_ must have his time to come; but last gives place to
nothing; for there is not another to succeed, He therefore
that hath his portion _first_, must needs have a time to
spend it; but he that hath his portion _last_, must have
it lastingly; therefore it is said of Dives, _In thy lifetime
thou receivedst thy good things, and likewise_ Lazartis
_evil things; but now he is comforted, and thou art tormented_.
CHR. Then I perceive 'tis not best to covet things that are now,
but to wait for things to come.
INTER. You say truth: _For the things which are seen are_
Temporal; _but the things that are not seen are_ Eternal. But
though this be so, yet since things present and our fleshly
appetite are such near neighbors one to another; and, again,
because things to come and carnal sense are such strangers one to
another; therefore it is that the first of these so suddenly fell
into _amity_, and that _distance_ is so continued between the second.
Then I saw in my Dream that the _Interpreter_ took
_Christian_ by the hand, and led him into a place where was a
Fire burning against a wall, and one standing by it, always
casting much Water upon it, to quench it; yet did the Fire burn
higher and hotter.
Then said _Christian,_ What means this?
The _Interpreter answered,_ This Fire is the work of Grace
that is wrought in the heart; he that casts Water upon it, to
extinguish and put it out, is the _Devil;_ but in that thou
seest the Fire notwithstanding burn higher and hotter, thou shalt
also see the reason of that. So he had him about to the backside
of the wall, where he saw a man with a Vessel of Oil in his hand,
of the which he did also continually cast (but secretly) into the
Fire.
Then said _Christian,_ What means this?
The _Interpreter answered,_ This is Christ, who continually,
with the Oil of his Grace, maintains the work already begun in the
heart: by the means of which notwithstanding what the Devil can
do, the souls of his people prove gracious still. And in that thou
sawest that the man stood behind the wall to maintain the Fire,
that is to teach thee that it is hard for the tempted to see how
this work of Grace is maintained in the soul.
I saw also that the _Interpreter_ took him again by the hand,
and led him into a pleasant place, where was builded a stately
Palace, beautiful to behold; at the sight of which _Christian_
was greatly delighted: He saw also upon the top thereof,
certain persons walking, who were cloathed all in gold.
Then said _Christian,_ May we go in thither?
Then the _Interpreter_ took him, and led him up toward the
door of the Palace; and behold, at the door stood a great company
of men, as desirous to go in, but durst not. There also sat a man
at a little distance from the door, at a table-side, with a Book
and his Inkhorn before him, to take the name of him that should
enter therein; He saw also, that in the door-way stood many men in
armour to keep it, being resolved to do the men that would enter
what hurt and mischief they could. Now was _Christian_ somewhat
in a maze. At last, when every man started back for fear of
the armed men, _Christian_ saw a man of a very stout countenance
come up to the man that sat there to write, saying, _Set down
my name, Sir_: the which when he had done, he saw the man
draw his Sword, and put an Helmet upon his head, and rush
toward the door upon the armed men, who laid upon him with deadly
force; but the man, not at all discouraged, fell to cutting and
hacking most fiercely. So after, he had received and given many
wounds to those that attempted to keep him out, he cut his way
through them all, and pressed forward into the Palace, at which
there was a pleasant voice heard from those that were within, even
of those that walked upon the top of the Palace, saying,
Come in, Come in;
Eternal Glory thou shalt win.
So he went in, and was cloathed with such garments as they. Then
_Christian_ smiled, and said, I think verily I know the
meaning of this.