Anselm, Emperor of Rome, having been long childless, has at length a son born to him. His great enemy, the King of Naples, wishing to end their strife, proposes a marriage between his daughter and the Emperor's son. The latter consents, and

in due time the princess embarks for Rome. A terrible storm arising, the ship is wrecked, and all on board perish except the princess. Before she can make good her escape, she is swallowed by a huge whale. But she happens to be armed with a sharp knife, which she uses so vigorously in her strange lodging, that the whale soon has the worst of it. The monster thereupon makes for the shore, and is there killed by a knight, who rescues the princess, and takes her under his protection. On relating her story, she is conveyed to the Emperor, who, to prove whether she is worthy of his son, puts before her three vessels: the first made of pure gold, and outwardly set with rich gems, but within full of dead men's bones; the second made of fine silver, but filled with earth and worms; the third made of lead, but full within of precious stones. On the first is inscribed "Whoso chooseth me shall find what he deserveth"; on the second, "Whoso chooseth me shall find what his nature desireth"; on the third, "Whoso chooseth me shall find what God has disposed to him." The Emperor then orders her to choose one of the vessels, telling her that, if she chooses that which will profit herself and others, she shall have his son. The princess chooses the third, and is forthwith married to the young prince.

The incidents of the bond, the forfeiture, the pound of flesh, and the mode in which the penalty is escaped, are also related in the Gesta Romanorum, but not in connection with that of the caskets. It is certain, however, that in this the Poet did not draw from the Gesta, but, directly or indirectly, from an Italian novel, by Giovanni Fiorentino, written as early as 1378, though not printed till 1500. The main points of the story are as follows:

Giannetto, the adopted son of a Venetian merchant, Ansaldo, gets permission to visit Alexandria. On his voyage he lands at Belmont, where he finds a lady of great wealth and beauty, and falls deeply in love with her. He returns to Venice, asks for a supply of money to enable him to prosecute his love-suit, and

Ansaldo borrows 10,000 ducats of a Jew on the condition that, if the money be not repaid by a certain day, Ansaldo shall forfeit a pound of his flesh, to be cut off by the Jew. Giannetto gains the lady in marriage; but, forgetful of the bond, prolongs his stay at Belmont till the day of payment is past. Hastening to Venice, he finds the Jew rigid in exacting the penalty, and not to be turned from it even by ten times the amount of the loan. The bride, knowing the merchant's position, disguises herself as a doctor of law, repairs to Venice, and gets herself introduced as a judge into the court where the case is on trial: for in Italy, at that time, nice and difficult points of law were determined, not by the ordinary judges, but by doctors of law from Padua, Bologna, and other famous law-schools. The lady, unrecognized by her husband, learns the nature of the case, and, after reading the bond, calls on the Jew to take the pound of flesh, but tells him he must take neither more nor less than exactly a pound, and that he must shed no blood. An executioner is at hand to behead him in case any blood be drawn. The Jew then says he will accept the 100,000 ducats offered; but, as he has declared up and down repeatedly that he will have nothing but the pound of flesh, the judge refuses to allow any repayment of money whatever; and the Jew in a rage tears up the bond and quits the court. Hereupon Giannetto, overjoyed at the happy issue, yields up to the judge, in token of his gratitude, a ring which his wife had given him on their marriage-day; and the judge, on returning home and putting off the disguise, rails at her husband in fine terms about his parting with the ring, which she says she is sure he must have given to some woman.

66

There is also an old ballad entitled "The cruelty of Gernutus, a Jew, who, lending to a Merchant a hundred crowns, would have a pound of his flesh, because he could not pay him at the day appointed." The ballad is of uncertain date; but Bishop Percy, who reprints it in his Reliques 'from an ancient blackletter copy," justly infers it to have been earlier than the play, because "it differs from the play in many circumstances which a mere ballad-maker would hardly have given himself the trouble to alter." I subjoin so much of it as is pertinent to the occasion :

In Venice town, not long ago,

A cruel Jew did dwell, Which lived all on usury,

As Italian writers tell.

Within that city dwelt that time
A merchant of great fame,
Which, being distressed, in his need
Unto Gernutus came;

Desiring him to stand his friend,
For twelvemonth and a day
To lend to him an hundred crowns;
And he for it would pay

Whatsoever he would demand of him;

And pledges he should have.
No, quoth the Jew with fleering looks,
Sir, ask what you will have.

No penny for the loan of it

For one year you shall pay : You may do me as good a turn, Before my dying day.

But we will have a merry jest

For to be talked long:

You shall make me a bond, quoth he,

That shall be large and strong.

And, at the last, ten thousand crowns
They offer'd, him to save:
Gernutus said, I will no gold, —
My forfeit I will have.

The bloody Jew now ready is,
With whetted blade in hand,
To spoil the blood of innocent,
By forfeit of his bond.

And, as he was about to strike
In him the deadly blow,

Stay, quoth the judge, thy cruelty,—
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 blood,
Nor yet the man confound.

For, if thou do, like murderer
Thou here shalt hangèd be;
Likewise of flesh see that thou cut
No more than 'longs to thee;

For if thou take either more or less,
To the value of a mite,
Thou shalt be hangèd presently,
As is both law and right.

Gernutus now wax'd frantic mad,
And wots not what to say;

Quoth he at last, Ten thousand crowns
I will that he shall pay;

And so I grant to let him free.

The judge doth answer make, You shall not have a penny given: Your forfeiture now take.

Magnificos of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Jailer, Servants, and

other Attendants.

SCENE, partly at Venice and partly at Belmont.

ACT I.

SCENE I. Venice. A Street.

Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO.

Ant. In sooth,1 I know not why I am so sad :

It wearies me, you say it wearies you;

But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,2
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,

I am to learn;

1 "In sooth" is truly or in truth. Soothsayer is, properly, truth-speaker ; formerly used of men supposed to be wise in forecasting things.

2 To come by a thing is to get possession of it, to acquire it. So the phrase is much used in New England, or was, forty years ago.