FOOTNOTES:
[857] [ready.]
[858] Ver. 18. to sportt, MS.
[859] Ver. 29. Where is often used by our old writers for whereas: here it is just the contrary.
[860] [then.]
[861] [then.]
[862] [spurs?]
[863] [stunned.]
[864] [Ver. 100. "King Ban's son of Benwick." Malory.]
[865] Rashing seems to be the old hunting term to express the stroke made by the wild boar with his fangs. To rase has apparently a meaning something similar. See Mr. Steevens's Note on K. Lear, act iii. sc. 7, (ed. 1793, vol. xiv. p. 193) where the quartos read,
"Nor thy fierce sister
In his anointed flesh rash boarish fangs."
So in K. Richard III. act iii. sc. 2, (vol. x. p. 567, 583.)
"He dreamt
To night the Boar had rased off his helm."
X.
CORYDON'S FAREWELL TO PHILLIS,
Is an attempt to paint a lover's irresolution, but so poorly executed, that it would not have been admitted into this collection, if it had not been quoted in Shakespeare's Twelfth-Night, act ii. sc. 3.—It is found in a little ancient miscellany, intituled, The Golden Garland of Princely Delights, 12mo. bl. let.
In the same scene of the Twelfth-Night, Sir Toby sings a scrap of an old ballad, which is preserved in the Pepys Collection (vol. i. pp. 33, 496), but as it is not only a poor dull performance, but also very long, it will be sufficient here to give the first stanza:
The Ballad of Constant Susanna.
There dwelt a man in Babylon
Of reputation great by fame;
He took to wife a faire womàn,
Susanna she was callde by name:
A woman fair and vertuous;
Lady, lady:
Why should we not of her learn thus
To live godly?
If this song of Corydon, &c. has not more merit, it is at least an evil of less magnitude.
[Dr. Rimbault refers to an earlier copy of this song in a rare musical volume entitled The First Booke of Ayres, composed by Robert Jones, 1601, where it is accompanied by the original music for four voices. This tune appears to have been a very popular one, and several Scottish songs are to be sung to the "toon of sal I let her go." The air is also to be found in a Dutch collection of Songs published at Haarlem in 1626.
In Brome's comedy of The Jovial Crew, acted in 1641 at the Cockpit in Drury Lane, there is an allusion perhaps to this song:
"Let her go, let her go,
I care not if I have her, I have her or no.">[
Farewell, dear love; since thou wilt needs be gone,
Mine eyes do shew, my life is almost done.
Nay I will never die, so long as I can spie
There be many mo, though that she doe goe,
There be many mo, I fear not:5
Why then let her goe, I care not.
Farewell, farewell; since this I find is true,
I will not spend more time in wooing you:
But I will seek elsewhere, if I may find love there:
Shall I bid her goe? what and if I doe?10
Shall I bid her goe and spare not?
O no, no, no, I dare not.
Ten thousand times farewell;—yet stay a while:—
Sweet, kiss me once; sweet kisses time beguile:14
I have no power to move. How now am I in love?
Wilt thou needs be gone? Go then, all is one.
Wilt thou needs be gone? Oh, hie thee!
Nay stay, and do no more deny me.
Once more adieu, I see loath to depart
Bids oft adieu to her, that holds my heart.20
But seeing I must lose thy love, which I did choose,
Goe thy way for me, since that may not be.
Goe thy ways for me. But whither?
Goe, oh, but where I may come thither.
What shall I doe? my love is now departed.25
She is as fair, as she is cruel-hearted.
She would not be intreated, with prayers oft repeated,
If she come no more, shall I die therefore?
If she come no more, what care I?
Faith, let her goe, or come, or tarry.30
XI.
GERNUTUS THE JEW OF VENICE.
In the "Life of Pope Sixtus V. translated from the Italian of Greg. Leti, by the Rev. Mr. Farneworth, folio," is a remarkable passage to the following effect:
"It was reported in Rome, that Drake had taken and plundered St. Domingo in Hispaniola, and carried off an immense booty. This account came in a private letter to Paul Secchi, a very considerable merchant in the city, who had large concerns in those parts, which he had insured. Upon receiving this news, he sent for the insurer Sampson Ceneda, a Jew, and acquainted him with it. The Jew, whose interest it was to have such a report thought false, gave many reasons why it could not possibly be true, and at last worked himself into such a passion, that he said, I'll lay you a pound of flesh it is a lye. Secchi, who was of a fiery hot temper, replied, I'll lay you a thousand crowns against a pound of your flesh that it is true. The Jew accepted the wager, and articles were immediately executed betwixt them, That, if Secchi won, he should himself cut the flesh with a sharp knife from whatever part of the Jew's body he pleased. The truth of the account was soon confirmed; and the Jew was almost distracted, when he was informed, that Secchi had solemnly swore he would compel him to an exact performance of his contract. A report of this transaction was brought to the Pope, who sent for the parties, and, being informed of the whole affair, said, When contracts are made, it is but just they should be fulfilled, as this shall: Take a knife, therefore, Secchi, and cut a pound of flesh from any part you please of the Jew's body. We advise you, however, to be very careful; for, if you cut but a scruple more or less than your due, you shall certainly be hanged."
The editor of that book is of opinion that the scene between Shylock and Antonio in the Merchant of Venice is taken from this incident. But Mr. Warton, in his ingenious Observations on the Faerie Queen, vol. i. p. 128, has referred it to the following ballad. Mr. Warton thinks this ballad was written before Shakespeare's play, as being not so circumstantial, and having more of the nakedness of an original. Besides, it differs from the play in many circumstances, which a meer copyist, such as we may suppose the ballad-maker to be, would hardly have given himself the trouble to alter. Indeed he expressly informs us that he had his story from the Italian writers. See the Connoisseur, vol. i. No. 16.
After all, one would be glad to know what authority Leti had for the foregoing fact, or at least for connecting it with the taking of St. Domingo by Drake; for this expedition did not happen till 1585, and it is very certain that a play of the Jewe, "representing the greedinesse of worldly chusers, and bloody minds of usurers," had been exhibited at the playhouse called the Bull before the year 1579, being mentioned in Steph. Gosson's Schoole of Abuse,[866] which was printed in that year.
As for Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice, the earliest edition known of it is in quarto 1600; though it had been exhibited in the year 1598, being mentioned, together with eleven others of his plays, in Meres's Wits Treasury, &c. 1598, 12mo. fol. 282.
Since the first edition of this book was printed, the editor hath had reason to believe that both Shakespeare and the author of this ballad are indebted for their story of the Jew (however they came by it) to an Italian novel, which was first printed at Milan in the year 1558, in a book intitled, Il Pecorone, nel quale si contengono Cinquanta Novelle antiche, &c. republished at Florence about the year 1748, or 9.[867] The author was Ser. Giovanni Fiorentino, who wrote in 1378; thirty years after the time in which the scene of Boccace's Decameron is laid. (Vid. Manni, Istoria del Decamerone di Giov. Boccac. 4to. Fior. 1744.)
That Shakespeare had his plot from the novel itself, is evident from his having some incidents from it, which are not found in the ballad: and I think it will also be found that he borrowed from the ballad some hints that were not suggested by the novel. (See pt. ii. ver. 25, &c. where, instead of that spirited description of the whetted blade, &c. the prose narrative coldly says, "The Jew had prepared a razor, &c." See also some other passages in the same piece.) This however is spoken with diffidence, as I have at present before me only the abridgement of the novel which Mr. Johnson has given us at the end of his Commentary on Shakespeare's Play. The translation of the Italian story at large is not easy to be met with, having I believe never been published, though it was printed some years ago with this title,—"The Novel, from which the Merchant of Venice written by Shakespeare is taken, translated from the Italian. To which is added a translation of a novel from the Decamerone of Boccaccio. London, Printed for M. Cooper, 1755, 8vo."
The following is printed from an ancient black-letter copy in the Pepys collection,[868] intitled, "A New Song, shewing the crueltie of Gernutus, a Jewe, who, lending to a merchant an hundred crowns, would have a pound of his fleshe, because he could not pay him at the time appointed. To the tune of Black and Yellow."
[This is the first of four ballads printed by Percy as probable sources for the plots of four of Shakspere's plays, but as we are unable to fix any satisfactory date for the first appearance of the ballads, it is well-nigh impossible to settle their claim to such distinction.
The story of the Jew who bargained for a pound of a Christian's flesh in payment of his debt is so widely spread, that there is no necessity for us to believe that Shakspere used this rather poor ballad, more especially as it is probable from the extract from Gosson mentioned above that Shakspere found the two plots of the bond and the caskets already joined together. There is, however, something in Percy's note about the whetting of the knife in verses 25-26, and it would be quite in accordance with the poet's constant practice for him to take this one point from the ballad of Gernutus. The ballad was probably versified from one of the many stories extant, because, even if it be later than Shakspere's play, it is impossible to believe that the ballad-writer could have written so bald a narration had he had the Merchant of Venice before him.
Some forms of the story are to be found in Persian, and there is no doubt that the original tale is of Eastern origin. The oldest European forms are in the English Cursor Mundi and Gesta Romanorum, and the French romance of Dolopathos. See Miss Toulmin Smith's paper "On the Bond-story in the Merchant of Venice," "Transactions of the New Shakspere Society," 1875-6 p. 181. Professor Child prints a ballad entitled The Northern Lord and Cruel Jew (English and Scottish Ballads, vol. viii. p. 270), which contains the same incident of the "bloody minded Jew."
Leti's character as an historian stands so low that his story may safely be dismissed as a fabrication.]
The First Part.
In Venice towne not long agoe
A cruel Jew did dwell,
Which lived all on usurie,
As Italian writers tell.
Gernutus called was the Jew,5
Which never thought to dye,
Nor ever yet did any good
To them in streets that lie.
His life was like a barrow hogge,[869]
That liveth many a day,10
Yet never once doth any good,
Until men will him slay.
Or like a filthy heap of dung,
That lyeth in a whoard;[870]
Which never can do any good,15
Till it be spread abroad.
So fares it with the usurer,
He cannot sleep in rest,
For feare the thiefe will him pursue
To plucke him from his nest.20
His heart doth thinke on many a wile,
How to deceive the poore;
His mouth is almost ful of mucke,
Yet still he gapes for more.
His wife must lend a shilling,25
For every weeke a penny,
Yet bring a pledge, that is double worth,
If that you will have any.
And see, likewise, you keepe your day,
Or else you loose it all:30
This was the living of the wife,
Her cow she did it call.[871]
Within that citie dwelt that time
A marchant of great fame,
Which being distressed in his need,35
Unto Gernutus came:
Desiring him to stand his friend
For twelve month and a day,
To lend to him an hundred crownes:
And he for it would pay40
Whatsoever he would demand of him,
And pledges he should have.
No, (quoth the Jew with flearing[872] lookes)
Sir, aske what you will have.
No penny for the loane of it45
For one year you shall pay;
You may doe me as good a turne,
Before my dying day.
But we will have a merry jeast,
For to be talked long:50
You shall make me a bond, quoth he,
That shall be large and strong:
And this shall be the forfeyture;
Of your owne fleshe a pound.
If you agree, make you the bond,55
And here is a hundred crownes.
With right good will! the marchant says:
And so the bond was made.
When twelve month and a day drew on
That backe it should be payd,60
The marchants ships were all at sea,
And money came not in;
Which way to take, or what to doe
To thinke he doth begin:
And to Gernutus strait he comes65
With cap and bended knee,
And sayde to him, Of curtesie
I pray you beare with mee.
My day is come, and I have not
The money for to pay:70
And little good the forfeyture
Will doe you, I dare say.
With all my heart, Gernutus sayd,
Commaund it to your minde:
In thinges of bigger waight then this75
You shall me ready finde.
He goes his way; the day once past
Gernutus doth not slacke
To get a sergiant presently;
And clapt him on the backe80
And layd him into prison strong,
And sued his bond withall;
And when the judgement day was come,
For judgement he did call.
The marchants friends came thither fast,85
With many a weeping eye,
For other means they could not find,
But he that day must dye.
The Second Part.
"Of the Jews crueltie; setting foorth the mercifulnesse of the Judge towards the Marchant. To the tune of Blacke and Yellow."
Some offered for his hundred crownes
Five hundred for to pay;
And some a thousand, two or three,
Yet still he did denay.[873]
And at the last ten thousand crownes5
They offered, him to save.
Gernutus sayd, I will no gold:
My forfeite I will have.
A pound of fleshe is my demand,
And that shall be my hire.10
Then sayd the judge, Yet, good my friend,
Let me of you desire
To take the flesh from such a place,
As yet you let him live:
Do so, and lo! an hundred crownes15
To thee here will I give.
No: no: quoth he; no: judgment here:
For this it shall be tride,
For I will have my pound of fleshe
From under his right side.20
It grieved all the companie
His crueltie to see,
For neither friend nor foe could helpe
But he must spoyled bee.
The bloudie Jew now ready is25
With whetted blade in hand,[874]
To spoyle the bloud of innocent,
By forfeit of his bond.
And as he was about to strike
In him the deadly blow:30
Stay (quoth the judge) thy crueltie;
I charge thee to do so.
Sith needs thou wilt thy forfeit have;
Which is of flesh a pound:
See that thou shed no drop of bloud,35
Nor yet the man confound.[875]
For if thou doe, like murderer,
Thou here shalt hanged be:
Likewise of flesh see that thou cut
No more than longes[876] to thee:40
For if thou take either more or lesse
To the value of a mite,
Thou shalt be hanged presently,
As is both law and right.
Gernutus now waxt franticke mad,45
And wotes[877] not what to say;
Quoth he at last, Ten thousand crownes,
I will that he shall pay;
And so I graunt to set him free.
The judge doth answere make;50
You shall not have a penny given;
Your forfeyture now take.
At the last he doth demaund
But for to have his owne.
No, quoth the judge, doe as you list,55
Thy judgement shall be showne.
Either take your pound of flesh, quoth he,
Or cancell me your bond.
O cruell judge, then quoth the Jew,
That doth against me stand!60
And so with griping grieved mind[878]
He biddeth them fare-well.
'Then' all the people prays'd the Lord,
That ever this heard tell.
Good people, that doe heare this song,65
For trueth I dare well say,
That many a wretch as ill as hee
Doth live now at this day;
That seeketh nothing but the spoyle
Of many a wealthey man,70
And for to trap the innocent
Deviseth what they can.
From whome the Lord deliver me,
And every Christian too,
And send to them like sentence eke75
That meaneth so to do.