《威尼斯商人(The.Merchant.of.Venice)》英中字幕.doc

Venice 1596Intolerance of the Jews was a fact of16th Century life even in Venice,the most powerful and liberalcity state in EuropeBy law the Jews were forced to live inthe old walled foundry or 'Geto' area of the cityAfter sundown the gate waslocked and guarded by ChristiansIn the daytime any man leaving the ghettohad to wear a red hat to mark him as a Jew(Man) Usurer!The Jews were forbidden to own property.So they practised usury, the lending of moneyat interest. This was against Christian lawThe sophisticated Venetians wouldturn a blind eye to itbut for the religious fanatics, whohated the Jews, it was another matter."lf a man is righteous,and does what is lawful and right,"if he has not exacted usurynor taken any increase"but has withdrawn his handfrom all iniquity"and executed true judgmentbetween men and men,"if he has walked in my statutes"and kept my judgment faithfully,then he is just and he shall surely live."But if he has exacted usuryand taken increase,"shall he then live?"No, he shall not live. If he hasdone any of these abominations."- (Cheering)- ".he shall surely die, says the Lord."(Preacher) And yet you liveby theft and robbery.Antonio.Antonio.Bassanio.- (Man) Wind's coming back, sir.- (Sail flapping)(Man) Signior Lorenzo.Jessica.(Antonio) In truth,I know not why I am so sad.It wearies me. I don't see it wearies you.And such a want-wit sadness makes of methat I have much ado than know myself.Your mind is tossing on the ocean.Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,the better part of my affectionwould be with my hopes abroad.I should be still plucking the grassto know where sits the wind,peering in mapsfor ports and piers and roads.And every object that might make me fearmisfortune to my venturesout of doubt would make me sad.My wind, cooling my broth,would blow me to a fever if I thought whatharm a wind too great might do at sea.Believe me, no.- Why, then you're in love.- (Laughs)Fie, fie, fie!Not in love either?Then let us say you are sadbecause you are not merry.Here comes my lord Bassanio.- Good morrow, my good lord.- Good signiors. When shall we laugh?We shall make our leisuresto fit in with yours.- Bassanio.- Signior.My lord Bassanio, since you have foundAntonio, we too will leave you.You look not well, Signior Antonio.You have too much respectupon the world.They lose it that do buy it with much care.I hold the world butas the world, Gratiano -a stage where every manmust play his part, and mine a sad one.Come, good Lorenzo.Fare thee well awhile.I'll end my exhortation after dinner.Fare thee well.Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing,more than any man in all of Venice.Well?Tell me now.that which todayyou promised to tell me of.'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,how much I have disabled mine estate,but my chief care is to comesquarely out of the great debtswherein my youth, something too prodigal,has left me pledged.To you, Antonio,I owe the most in money and in love,and from your love I have a warrantyto unburden all my plots and purposeshow to get clear of all the debts I owe.Pray, good Bassanio, let me know it.And, if it stand, as you yourself still do,within the eye of honour,be assured my purse, my person,my extremest meansIie all unlocked to your occasion.In Belmont is a lady richly left -and she is fair, and fairer than that word -of wondrous virtues.Sometimes, from her eyesI did receive fair.speechless messages.Her name is Portia, no less a beautythan Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.Nor is the wide worldignorant of her worth,for the four winds blow in from every coastrenowned suitors.O my Antonio,had I but the meansto hold a rival place with one of themthen I should questionless be fortunate.Thou knowest my fortunes are at sea.Neither have I money nor commodityto raise a present sum.Therefore, go forth.Try what my credit can in Venice do.It shall be racked, even to the uttermost,to furnish you to Belmont,and fair Portia.I swear to you, Nerissa,- I am weary of this great world.- You would be, sweet madam,if your miseries were as plentifulas your good fortunes are.And yet, from what I see,they are as sick that have it in excessas those that starve with nothing.If doing were as easyas knowing what were good to do,chapels had been churches,and poor men's cottages princes' palaces.(Sighs) But this reasoning isnot in the way to choose me a husband.O me, the word "choose"!I may neither choose who I wouldnor refuse who I dislike.So is the will of a living daughterruled by a dead father.Is it not hard, Nerissa,that I cannot choose one nor refuse none?Your father was always virtuous,and holy men, at their death,have good inspirations.Therefore the lottery, that he devisedin these three chestsof gold and silver and lead,so that who chooses his meaningchooses you,will no doubt only be guessed, rightly,by someone who you shall rightly love.Right.(Nerissa) What warmth is therein your affectiontowards any of these princely suitorsthat are already come?(Portia) Pray name them, andas you name them I will describe them,and, accordingto my description, level at my affection.How say you of the French lord,Monsieur Le Bon?Oh, God.God made him,and therefore let him pass for a man.I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he.!What say you to Falconbridge,the young baron of England?(Portia laughs) How oddly he's suited!And the Duke of Saxony's nephew?Very vilely in the morningwhen he is sober,and most vilely in the afternoonwhen he is drunk.O Nerissa!- (Giggling)- Wait! Wait.If he should offer to choose,and choose the right casket,you should refuse to perform your father'swill if you should refuse to accept him.Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee,set a deep glass of Rhenish wineon the contrary casket.I will do anything, Nerissa,ere I will be married to a sponge.(Shylock) Three thousand ducats.Well.Ay, sir, for three months.For three months?- Well.- For which, as I told you,Antonio shall be bound.Antonio shall be bound?Well.May you help me? Will you pleasure me?Should I know your answer?Three thousand ducats for three months,and Antonio bound.Your answer to that.Antonio is a good man.Have you heard any imputationto the contrary?No. No, no, no, no. My meaningin saying that he is a good manis to have you understandthat he is of good credit.Yet his means are in question.He hath a ship bound for Tripolis,another to the lndies.I understand moreover, upon the Rialto,he hath a third ship at Mexico,a fourth for England,and other ventureshe hath squandered abroad.But ships are but boards,sailors are but men,there be land rats and water rats,water thieves and land thieves.I mean pirates.Then there is the peril of waters,winds and rocks.The man is, notwithstanding,of good credit.Three thousand ducats.I think I may take his bond.- Be assured you may.- May I speak with Antonio?If it please you, dine with us.Yes, to smell pork,to eat of the habitation which your prophetthe Nazarite conjured the devil into.I will buy with you, sell with you, walkwith you, talk with you, and so following,but I will not eat with you,nor drink with you,nor pray with you.Who is he comes here?This is Signior Antonio. Antonio!(Bassanio) Antonio.How like a fawning publican he looks.Shylock! Shylock, do you hear?I am debating of my present store,and by the near guess of my memory,I cannot instantly raise up the grossof full three thousand ducats.But Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,will furnish me.Benjamin. Go, seek out Tubal.But soft, how many months?Rest you fair, good signior.Your worship was the last manin our mouths.- Is he possessed how much you would?- Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.And for three months.Ah, I forgot. Three months, you told me so.But soft, erm. methought you saidyou neither lend nor borrow with interest.- I do never use it.- Well.Three thousand ducats,'tis a good round sum.- (Door shuts)- Launcelot.The rates.Three months.from twelve.Let me see the rate.Well, Shylock,shall we be beholden to you?Signior Antonio.many a time, and oft in the Rialto,you have reviled meabout my moneys and my usances.Still, I have borne it with a patient shrug,for sufferance is the badge of all our tribe.You call me misbeliever,cut-throat dog,and spit upon my Jewish gaberdine.And all for use of that which is my own.Well, it now appears you need my help.You come to me and you say,"Shylock, we would have money."You say so. You, that did voidyour rheum upon my beardand kick me as you spurn a stranger curover your threshold.Money is your suit.What should I say to you?Should I not say, "Hath a dog money?"ls it possible a cur can lendthree thousand ducats?"Or shall I bend lowand, in a slavish voice, with bated breathand whispering humbleness say this -"Fair sir, you spat on meon Wednesday last,"you spurned me such a day,another time you called me dog."For these courtesies,I'll lend you thus much moneys."(Antonio) I'm as like to call you so again,to spit on you again, to spurn you too.If you would lend this money,lend it not unto your friends.For when did friendship takea breed for barren metal from his friends?Lend it rather to your enemy who,if he break,you may with better face exact the penalty.Why, look how you storm.I would be friends with youand have your love.Forget the stainsthat you have shamed me with.Supply your present wants, and take nota drop of interest for my moneys.- (Sighs)-.and you'll not hear me.- (Laughs)- This is kind I offer.- This is kindness.- No.This kindness I will show.Go with me to a notaryand seal me there your single bond.And in a merry sport,if you repay me not on such a dayin such a place, such a sum or sumsas are expressed in the condition,Iet the forfeit be nominated.for an equal pound of your fair fleshto be cut off and takenin what part of your body pleaseth me.Content, i'faith.I'll seal to such a bond,and say there is much kindness in the Jew.You shall not seal such a bond for me.I'd rather live in my necessity.(Antonio) Why, fear not, man.I will not forfeit it.Within these two months,that's a month before this bond expires,I do expect return of thrice three timesthe value of this bond.O father Abraham,what these Christians are,whose own hard dealings teaches themsuspect the thoughts of others.I pray you, tell me this.If he should break his day, what shouldI gain by the exaction of the forfeiture?A pound of a man's flesh taken from a manis not so estimable,profitable neither,as flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats.I say, to buy his favour,I extend this friendship.If he will take it, so. If not, adieu.And, for my love, I pray you, wrong me not.Shylock.I will seal unto this bond.Dislike me not for my complexion,the shadowed livery of the burnished sun,to whom I am a neighbour and near bred.Yallah! Yallah!Bring me the fairest creaturenorthward born,where the sun's firescarce thaws the icicles,and let us make incision for your loveto prove whose blood is reddest,his or mine.I tell thee,Iady, this aspect of minehath feared the valiant.Yea, by my love I swear, the most regardedvirgins of our clime have loved it too.I would not change this hue, exceptto steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.In terms of choice, I am not solely ledby nice direction of a maiden's eyes.Instead, the lottery of my destiny bars methe right of voluntary choosing.But if my father had not restrained me,and hedged me by his witto yield myself as wifeto him who wins meby that means I told you,yourself, renowned prince,then stood as fair as.any comerI have looked on yet for my affection.- (Laughter)- Even for that, I thank you.Therefore, I pray you, lead meto the caskets to try my fortune.(Morocco) Yes?(Bassanio) I pray you, Leonardo, thesethings being bought and orderly bestowed,return in haste, for I do feast tonightmy best esteemed acquaintance.Let supper be readyat the latest by nine o'clock.See that these letters are delivered.And put the livery to the making.Certainly my conscience would forbid meto run from this Jew, my master.(Man) Ho!I pray you, which way to the master Jew's?Do you not know me, Father?Lord, how art thou changed!How dost thou and thy master agree?I brought him a present.Famished in his service, Father.I'm glad you've come.Give your present to one master Bassanio,- who indeed gives rare new liveries.- (Thunder rumbling)(Man) Si.Bassanio!Bassanio!- Gratiano.- I have a suit to you.- You have obtained it.- You must not deny me -I must go with you to Belmont.Why, then you must. But hear thee, you aretoo wild, too rude, too bold of voice,things that become you happily enoughand in such eyes as ours appears not false.But where you are not known, why,there they show something too.Iiberal.Pray you, take pain to dilute with somecold drops of modesty your skipping spirit,Iest through your wild behaviourI be misconstrued in the place I goand lose my hopes.Signior Bassanio, hear me.If I do not put on a sober habit, talk withrespect, and swear but now and then,Iook demurely,nay more, while priest is saying,hood mine eyes thus with my hatand sigh and say, "Amen,"never trust me more.Well, we shall see your bearing.(Bassanio) Oof!Nay, but I bar tonight.You shall not gauge meby what we do tonight.God bless your worship.Signior Bassanio.Many thanks.Would you something from me?- Here is my son, sir, a poor boy.- Not a poor boy, sir,but the rich Jew's man that would, sir,as my father shall specify.He hath a great infection, sir,as one would say, to serve.Indeed, sir. The short and the long is,I serve the Jew, and have a desire,as my father shall specify.To be brief, the very truth is, as my father,being an old man, shall fruitify unto you.I have here a dish of dovesI would bestow upon your worship.(Gobbo) And my suit is.(Launcelot) In very brief,the suit is impertinent to myself,as your worship shall knowby this honest old man.And, though I say it, though old man,yet poor man, my father.One speak for both. What would you?- Serve you, sir.- That is the very defect of the matter, sir.You have obtained your suit,if it be prefer