VI.

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.

'Blessed are the merciful, for they shall obtain mercy.'-JESUS.

[This charming play belongs to Shakspere's Second Period. Its probable date of production is 1596, though it was not published till 1600. We have evidence of the existence of an older play, containing the incidents of the caskets and the pound of flesh; but these had also been related in prose and verse in various tongues for many centuries before the time of Shakspere. There is wonderful artistic skill in the subtile blending of the three stories of Shylock and his bond, Portia and her marriage, and the elopement of Jessica with Lorenzo.]

I

I. PORTIA.

N this play we meet with one of the most fascinating of Shakspere's heroines. The poet throughout his writings displays the most wonderful knowledge of woman's character. He seems to understand every secret. The trembling impulse of earliest passion within a maiden's breast, the perfect love that gives itself without reserve to the beloved, the savage eagerness with which an angry mother can defend her outraged child, the awful glance of insulted chastity which strikes the impure soul like a bolt from heaven, the playful spirit and scintillating wit which disguise a deep and strong affection, the simple loves and jealousies of a shepherd girl, and the dazzling fascinations of a splendid queen,—all these are familiar to Shakspere as the notes of

1

These heroines are

his instrument to a skilful musician.
not manufactured out of moral qualities patched together;
the qualities are the inevitable outcome of living charac-
ters, grasped in their unique completeness by the genius
of the poet. The true artist does not say, 'Now, I have
these half-dozen colours on my palette, and I must arrange
them as best I can harmoniously on the canvas;' he
becomes inspired by some vision which he is under a
necessity to express, and pencil, colours, skilful fingers, all
become the instruments of the divine idea which fills his
soul. And that was the method of Shakspere's art. He
did not say, 'Here are these moral qualities, and I must
invent women for their illustration.' He first saw his
heroines; he knew them as well as he did his own wife
and daughters; he knew the colour of their hair, the ex-
pression of their eyes, the shape of their mouths, their
fashion of dress, the favourite shade of their ribbons. There
these women are in their inviolate personalities; they are
not put there in order to work the machinery of an artificial
plot, but the plot unfolds itself out of their essential
characters by a law inevitable as that by which the world
proceeded from the thought of God. As we study these
plays, we find how this supreme poet, perhaps the man of
finest intellect the world has seen, honours and reverences
womanhood, glorifies chastity, maintains the inviolability of
marriage, and holds that the greatness of the woman is
needed for the completeness of the man. The study of
Shakspere confirms the saying of the American poet :-

And I say it is as great to be a woman as to be a man.
And I say there is nothing greater than to be the mother of men.

The heroine of The Merchant of Venice is almost like a personal friend, we seem to know her so well. We are familiar with every wave of her golden hair, every play of

those beautiful features, every movement of that proud head, every glance of those piercing eyes incapable of hesitation or obliquity. We have marked every sudden change of quick expression by which her words try to keep pace with her rapid thoughts. Her brilliant intellect, genial humour, keen irony, loyal faith, passionate love, quick sympathy, and intuitional discernment,-all these aspects of her nature we have learnt from the utterances ascribed to her in the various events of the unfolding plot.

We first see Portia as the splendid heiress in her mansion at Belmont, and we are sure how well her household was governed. A privilege it must have been to serve such a gracious mistress; and yet we are sure that under her rule there was no laxity, deception, or persistent carelessness. This is the faithful daughter, who will not violate her father's will even to secure the man she loves; this is the self-forgetful bride, who parts with her husband on the marriage morning to save his friend from death; this is the perfect wife, who gives herself and all her wealth without reserve into the keeping of her lord. This woman, who claimed the lawyer's cap and gown by the divine right of her genius, was already the wise lawgiver of the household, the faithful steward of her dead father's wealth, and the strict executor of his will. In Portia Shakspere seems resolved to show how woman can do so many different things and yet maintain her perfect womanliness. Bassanio will never blush when it becomes publicly reported that his wife was the lawyer who saved Antonio's life. Here we are taught the resources of woman's nature and the versatility of ner genius; she can adapt herself to every sudden change of circumstance, and prove herself equal to every unexpected emergency. With piercing intuition she sees through all the intricacies of a difficult case, unravels the knot of involved events, knows just what ought to be done, and

does it. A woman very often does the right thing without being able to elaborate the reasons and motives; her actions result not from logical conviction, but from moral inspiration; she can concentrate her whole nature upon the deed she feels is right; as soon as her genius realises the intuition of duty, instantly her will resolves itself into activity. The wisdom of a true-hearted woman is not the mechanical conclusion of a syllogism, but the spontaneous offspring of her own pure and beautiful soul. All through these plays Shakspere brings out the intuitional power of his women; they understand the men around them better than the men understand one another. In The Two Gentlemen of Verona Julia refuses to explain why she holds such an opinion of a certain man; if she had ventured to discuss the matter, she would most likely have had the worst of the argument; but she knows better than that, and wisely says:

I have no other but a woman's reason:
I think him so, because I think him so.

She has reached her instinctive verdict without the intermediate process of logical argument and dialectical machinery. Shakspere's heroines teach us much profound philosophy, though they never philosophise; they are wise and strong, and yet they are neither blue-stockings nor Amazons. This splendid lady of Belmont is an obedient daughter and a faithful wife. And we must remember the temptation Portia is under to break her father's dying command. Her father has left her the uncontrolled mistress of all his wealth; but he seems to have fettered her will just in the very matter whose happy issue depends on her liberty of choice. I do not wonder that the first entrance of Portia is ushered by a heavy sigh :

By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world.

By her father's will Portia has no power of choice or refusal in the selection of a husband. She is a young, beautiful, amiable, accomplished lady, possessed of boundless wealth; and her wise father knew the danger she would encounter from needy adventurers, who would come with specious words and gallant manners to sue for her hand; he knew how rare a husband was needed to be worthy of such a wife. So he provided that after his death the character of every suitor should be put to a test as severe as he would have had to undergo during the father's lifetime. Three caskets are provided, of gold, silver, and lead; one of these contains the portrait of Portia, and whoever chooses this the lady is bound to accept as her husband. No wonder, with a crowd of suitors at her gate, amongst whom she can neither choose nor dismiss, with her fate hanging in the balance, that Portia's little body is aweary of the great world; and though we know that she reverences her father's memory, we are not astonished that she frets somewhat under the pressure of the dead hand, and cries :

O me, the word 'Choose!' I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none?

And Nerissa lets us into Shakspere's secret when she

answers:

Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men at their death have good inspirations: therefore the lottery, that he hath devised in these three caskets of gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you, will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly but one who shall rightly love.

Therefore the lottery of marriage is not all a lottery; the device is a test of character; he who can see through the