You may do so;-but let it be so hasted, that supper be ready at the furthest by five of the clock. See these letters deliver’d; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.      [Exit a SERVANT]

-Bassiano

The Merchant of Venice                Act II, scene ii, line 113

 

This is the scene where Launcelot Gobo is talking to himself and then to his father. The line previous to Today’s Totally Random Line is just that, Launcelot Gobo talking to old Gobo. Then, suddenly, Bassanio enters with Leonardo and a follower or two. Apparently one of the followers is a servant that Bassanio is in the middle of a conversation with as he enters the scene, and the lines above are the first spoken by Bassanio as he enters. I don’t know about you, but I’m a little curious as to what the servant asked permission to do. It must have been something since Bassanio enters the scene saying, ‘yes, you can do that, but make it quick so that you can take care of all my stuff.’ So what did the servant want to do? We’re never going to know, are we?

This reminds me of when I’m at a stoplight and I look over at a person standing and waiting for the bus. I look at them and realize that they have their own little world that they live in, just as I have mine, and that I will never know anything about that world. Are they thinking about the war in Ukraine, or about their Aunt Ethel who’s in the hospital. Or maybe they’re thinking about the underpants they’re wearing that are riding up on them. Whatever it is, it’s a continuum of a thousand thoughts that make up their world. And there are billions of these little worlds out there. So many of them I pass within a few feet of every day and never, ever give it a thought. But sometimes I do.

Will seems to be reminding us of these worlds right here. He’s going to give us this very little reminder of something very big, and then he’ll just move on. The servant exits and there’s never any mention further in the play of what he wanted to do. But even though we’ll never know what it was, and even though it really has nothing to do with any of the people or outcomes of the play, it must have been something.

How about this fellow entering the building just now. What's on his mind? What's his world all about? Aren't you just a little bit curious? I am. 

 

For three months, - well.

-Shylock

The Merchant of Venice                Act I, scene iii, line 3

 

Here is our first look at Shylock, at the beginning of scene three. His first words, and the first words of the scene are, Three thousand ducats, - well. Bassanio says, Ay, sir, for three months. Shylock repeats him again with today’s Random Line (even though we didn’t hear Bassanio say three thousand ducats we can be pretty sure he did), then Bassanio says Antonio will be bound for it, and Shylock repeats him a third time. So Shylock’s first three lines in the play are parroting back what Bassanio said to him.

Isn't that interesting. Shylock, who is supposed to be the lender is, at the very outset, the borrower: borrowing his lines from Bassanio. Is Will giving us a cue right up front to suggest that Shylock may not be what we are going to assume him to be? 

He be, or not he be? You tell me.

Today's post is much too thought provoking for a picture. 

Just concentrate on the words.

 

It should seem, then, that Dobbin’s tail grows backward; I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I last saw him.

-Launcelot Gobo

The Merchant of Venice                Act II, scene ii, line 142

 

This is an odd little scene. It begins with Launcelot deciding whether or not to leave the service of Shylock. It ends with him making the decision to leave and entering into the service of Bassanio. In between, Launcelot’s father shows up and, being half blind, doesn’t realize initially that he’s talking to his son. But he finally realizes it and remarks that his son has more hair on his chin than his horse Dobbin has on its tail. I’m not 100% sure what Launcelot means with his response in Today’s Totally Random Line. I guess he’s just remarking on the shortness of his own beard.

I’m also not exactly sure what the old man Gobo scene adds, other than the opportunity for a little bit of comic interlude, but I guess that’s important. This is a comedy, after all. Let’s not forget that.

Talk about long tails, now that's impressive!

 

Besides, the lottery of my destiny

Bars me the right of voluntary choosing:

-Portia

The Merchant of Venice                Act II, scene i, line 15

 

This is another piece of this play that bugs me. Portia’s father died, and apparently he had quite the estate and his daughter appears to be his sole survivor. He’s left instructions that whatever suitor can come and pick the correct of three caskets (small boxes) they will win the hand of his daughter. His daughter has no say in the matter. This is what Portia is making reference to in today’s Totally Random Line. What the heck kind of nonsense is this?

Perhaps the old man left someone in charge to enforce this deal, but if he did, I haven’t seen mention of him. It looks like Portia is just going along with it. Now I can see honoring one’s father’s wishes, but this seems a bit much.

And this gamble is the premise that Bassanio borrowed the three thousand ducats on; the premise for which Antonio’s life is on the line. In a sense, the whole play revolves around this silly casket choice. Well that’s just crazy.

Is this like Portia's caskets? Actually, hers were metal...

...and I don't think any of hers had a chess set inside. So, no, I don't think this is like any of Portia's caskets.

 

                              It is almost morning,

And yet I am sure you are not satisfied

Of these events at full. Let us go in;

And charge us there upon inter’gatories,

And we will answer all things faithfully.

 

-Portia

The Merchant of Venice                Act V, scene i, line 297

 

This is the second to last lines of the play. Gratiano is given the honor of following with the last eight lines of the play.

What’s that you say? You want those lines too? I don’t blame you.

         Let it be so: the first inter’gatory

        That Nerissa may be sworn on is,

        Whether till the next night she had rather stay,

        Or go to bed now, being two hours to day:

        But were the day come, I should wish it dark,

That I were couching with the doctor’s clerk.

Well, while I live I’ll fear no other thing,

So sore as keeping safe Nerissa’s ring.

End act, scene, play. Finito.

It’s supposed to be a light hearted play, a comedy, and this ending goes with that. No one dies, Antonio is saved in the end, and the guys get their girls. Sure, one old miserly Jew is completely ruined, but we’re not going to let that spoil the mood, are we?

Are we?

I think I’ve mentioned before that the only time I’ve seen this play performed live, the final person on stage was Shylock. Gratiano still got the final lines, but after he spoke the stage lights faded and then a spotlight shown on Shylock, sitting in the dark. I remember his face as he looked out at the audience. He wasn’t mad or ruined; it seemed more to be a look that said, ‘Are you happy now? Are you okay feeling good about the play even though I got completely destroyed?’ It was very thought provoking and, in my opinion, a very good way to end the play, maintaining some respect for modern sensibilities. I’m sure there are those who would disagree; but aren’t there always.

'Holy crow, what does that picture got to do with anything?' I can hear you say. Well, a little maybe.

Here's me and my oldest nephew Matt. Good guy, that Matt. And Matt's brother Michael did the lighting work for the live production of Merchant that I was just talking about. In fact, I guess it was Michael who came up with the spotlight on Shylock in the dark? So I guess your next question is 'Why not a pic of Michael?' Another good question. The answer is that yesterday was Matt's birthday. 

Happy one-day-late birthday, Matt!

 

                              Why look how you storm!

I would be friends with you, and have your love,

Forget the shames that you have stain’d me with,

Supply your present wants and take no doit

Of usance for my monies,

And you’ll not hear me: this is kind I offer.

 

-Shylock

The Merchant of Venice                Act I, scene iii, line 45

 

I’m going to maintain that skipping around like this, whether within one play or through all Will’s works, has the advantage of having any and every possible line highlighted, where it might otherwise be skipped over. And that’s a good thing. But to today’s line…

Shylock had been saying previously that Antonio has in the past been very mean to him, spit on him and treated him like a dog. And for these courtesies/I’ll lend you thus much monies’? he asks of Antonio. Antonio’s reply is an interesting one.

         I am as like to call thee so again,

        To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.

        If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not

        As to thy friends— for when did friendship take

        A breed for barren metal of his friend?—

        But lend it rather to thine enemy;

        Who if he break, thou mayst with better face

        Exact the penalty.

 

For when did friendship… Antonio’s saying when did friendship ever increase based on the money of a friend?

Who if he break… who if he goes bankrupt.

This is the storming that Shylock is referring to, and responding to, with today’s Totally Random Lines.

Now, there’s a lot here, and I gave you quite a bit to read, but I think this is a really important piece of the play. Shylock has justly accused Antonio of being really rotten to him, of spitting on him and treating him like a dog. Even with all that he’s saying that he would be willing to be friends with Antonio. He’d be willing to take no doit of usance – take not a penny of interest for the loan. We can argue as to whether or not this is a sincere offer, but either way Antonio has already made it very clear that he wants absolutely nothing to do with Shylock on a personal basis; he only wants the money loaned on a purely business-based relationship. At this point Shylock offers, and Antonio accepts, the pound of flesh deal.

So, who’s the bad guy? You tell me.

No doit of usance..

 

Not one red cent.

 

Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?

 -Portia

The Merchant of Venice                Act III, scene ii, line 290

 

Day five of Merchant; And for the third day in a row, we’re on the same scene; in fact, the same part of the same scene (I didn't post to the blog yesterday, but the line I read was from this scene). Today we have Portia asking Bassanio if the person in trouble is his dear friend Antonio. Yes, it is; and he is perhaps dearer than you could imagine.

It's widely, albeit not universally, held that Antonio and Bassanio were gay, or at least bisexual, lovers. This is one reason posited for why Antonio is so sad at the beginning of the play. He’s sad because he knows that Bassanio will be leaving him to pursue Portia. So, when Portia refers to Bassanio’s dear friend, it begs the question of whether or not she knows just how dear a friend he is.

What do you think?

And just when I thought there was no way I had any pics relevant to two gay friends, I find this one. How about that!