THE "MERCHANT OF VENICE."

Otago Witness, Issue 2036, 2 March 1893, Page 35

THE "MERCHANT OF VENICE."

Mr A. Wilson's Paper Before the Shakespeare Club, The Dunedin Shakespeare Club gave their final reading of the season at the Choral Hall recently. The play selected on this occasion was "The Merchant of Venice." ( Mr A. Wilson, the president, who occupied the chair, said :— This being bhe firsb bime bhab I have dealt with the " Merchant of Venice," there is hardly any other course opsn to me bhan to consider Shakespeare's treabmenb of Shylock — what, to all appearance, the dramatist intended to effect, and what he effects without intention. Now j the chief fact about Shylock was the fact of race. I have not myself the honour to be of Shylock's race ; though I could wi6h that, on this occasion at least, I had ; for then perhaps I mighb have had that to say would ruffle up your spirits. As it is I musb speak in the tamer Gentile mood. But bhough, from bhe necessities of the case, I must consider Shylock from the Gentile sbandpoinb, and speak as a Genbile to Gentiles, I do nob forgeb that the Shakespeare Club knows nothing of race, and that some of my Jewish fellow citizens have been amongst its most energetic and useful members. The modern estimate of Shylock delights, perhaps, too much in contradicting the old conception of the character bhab was prevalent before the elder Kean startled London by a revelation of ibs possibilities. During bhe firsb two centuries of his existence Shylock seems to have been a kind of stage bug-bear whose enormities and persecutions were designed bo provide bhe groundlings with a spectacle, of justifiable Jew-baibing. In our cenbury, on the other hand, Shylock, having ceased to be a butt, has become, perhaps, too much of a martyr. And how is such a volteface possible in the estimate of a dramatic character the lines of which are anything but indisbinct ? It is only that we have shifted our moral standpoint : this and nothing more. The world has outgrown some of its childish crudities. The early Shylock was a mere object for the ribald laughter and scorn of the theatre; the present Shylock is a being of large moral stabrir'e, raised bo an epic grandeur by bhe sbrengbh of his inbellecb and passion. Yet is it the same Shylock, and nob another. We have not bampered with the texb, or imputed to the Jew any quality not implanted in him by his creator — plain for all to see. Marlowe, too, created a Jew. But you might as well demand our sympathy for Frankenstein ; we will have nothing to say to Marlowe's Jew. Shakespeare's Jew is quite another matter. He is a man ; and, if we concede the circumstances, Shakespeare himself has not created anything more divinely true. The circumstances that condibion Shylock's conduct — the foolish pound-of-flesh forfeiture and all that— may be outrageous. That is a matter of little moment. Shakespeare in this case, as in others, took what came to his hand. Nothing that is human is alien from us ; and the point is that, given the circumstances, Shylock is a man and a Jew ; an exceptional man ib is true — of large passions, large intellect and will ; a colossal man, wherein lies his interest. This is what he would have said, that is what he would have done ; words and actions seem alike inevitable. When the character was first placed on the stage, what with red wig, grotesque mask, and such tomfooleries, it was so travestied that its finer human essence must have been all but killed. I dare say that any clear spirit of that time, reading the play only and not seeing it staged, would have felb Shylock to be a sublime embodiment of strong and passionate, if wicked, humanity. But the clearest spirit of Shakespeare's time would certainly have read the character with other eyes than ours: and ours is the truer vision. That ib is so is nothing to our credit. It would have been a pity if three centuries had done nothing to clarify our judgments, broaden our sympathies, sharpen our sense of justice. In this present century, now on its last legs, have we nob in our passion for justice turned ourselves even into devil's advocates. Fiat justitia — giye the devil his dueare we not always saying? And if we give justice to the devil, shall we deny it to Shylock ? But in the 16th cenbury, whatever dues the devil may have had, the Jews had none. As Macaulay said in his maiden speech: "Three hundred years ago the Jews had no legal right to be in England, and six hundred years ago they had no legal right to the teeth ia their heads." It was therefore impossible that we should continue to regard Shakespeare's Shylock with the eyes of the 16th century, seeing that the atbibude of the Christian — of the British Christian at any rate— to the Jew has so entirely changed. Owing to the scrupulous care wibh which bhe Jewish people hedge their nationality, the races remain now as distinct as in the days of Shakespeare. Bub wherever the stringent exclusiveness of the Jewish religion permits communiby of interest, there community exisbs — so bhab in English-speaking countries, had it depended only on the will of the Gentile, the races would probably by this time have been fused. As it is, Gentile? share with Jews everything that Jews themselves allow to be shared. Ii:, then, a Christian dramatist of our own time were to create a character like Shylock, depending for his hateful character on the fact of race, we should, I hope, resent such treatment of a people who bear with us their full share of bhe burdens of citizenship, who are of an older civilisation than ourselves — who were, indeed, a learned and cultivated nation when the nations of the west were savages of the woods. But in Shakespeare's time bhe relabions of Jew and Genbilewere far otherwise than they are now. Their relations then were those .of oppressed and oppressor. By Shakespeare and his contemporaries the Jews were despised as aliens; for it marks the imperfect culture of a nation's youth to despise aliens because they are aliens. And, for reasons growing necessarily out of the peculiar position of the oppressed people, the Jews were hated as much as they were despised. When Shakespeare, therefore, wrote the "Merchant of Venice" he was simply gratifying a natural antipathy and providing a "Judenhetze" for the Philistines. I am sorry bhab I cannot credit Shakespeare with any wish to champion the oppressed race by exhibiting the injustice with which the 'Jews were treated. The injustice would certainly have escaped an audience of the time ; and had Shakespeare been concerned to teach the English people a lesson in humanity, Shylock does not seem to me the character he would have presented to a Globe audience for the purpose. The play sufficiently indicates that Shakespeare had an uneasy consciousness bhat all was not well. But he was not so far in advance of his time as to have conquered his race antipathy, and to have ceased to consider the Jews fair I game for stage persecution. No, Shakespeare was not so far in advance of his age as all that.' Yet, in spibe of his antipathy, following hi 3 ever-marvellous dramatic instinct, he has made Shylock one of the most stupendous figures, even in the Shakespeare gallsry of large figures. Beside this man most of the other persons of the play— all of them, indeed, except Portia—an* moral dwarfs, But;

how is Shylock great ? He is great in evil, great in perverted good. There he stands like a rebellious Titan — a Hebrew Prometheus in revolt against Christian tyranny. Now that English Christians have ceased to be tyrants, they see that Prometheus, wicked as he was, j had cause for revolt. Hence Shylock on our stage always commands a share of sympathy, except from those whose ethics are as rude as Queen Elizabeth's. But take Shylock to Russia, and what do you think will be the feel- ! ing there ? Much, I should say, what it was in England towards the end of the 16th centurysavage delight to see a hated nation held up to obloquy and execration, in the person of a type. We, on the other hand, rightly feel— however the atrocity of the vindictiveness may appal and revolt vs — that something is due to justice ; that if Shylock was greatly wrong he was also greatly wronged, and that his most infernal tendencies were bub perversions, by Christian ill-usage, of qualities which in other | circumstances might have fitted him to be a prince and a judge in Israel. What constitutes the sublime impressiveness of Shylock's character is his unrelenting intensity of purpose. No doubt it would have been more pleasant if the purpose had been a purpose of love; bub for dramatic ends, next to a good lover give us a good' hater : the middle point has no interest. Weak natures do not possess this indomitable desire to reach an end, and this readiness to sacrifice for its attainment things of great though secondary importance. Such intensity of purpose goes with other kinds of strength, as it went in Shylock's case with extreme subtilty and vigour of intellect. How delightful and stimulating his quickness of apprehension, the keenness of his wit, the saturnine and savage grimness of his humour ! lam not, however, concerned to pronounce an eloge on the dramatic qualities of Shylock, but merely to indicate the basis of character on which Shakespeare superimposes his -drama. Ib is always instructive to note the data from which Shakespeare sets out to develop his larger and more magnificent dramatic actions. Here he finds, in the literature of the day, a certain Jew, with, as it seems to him, large possibilities of dramatic interest. To begin with, Shylock is a Jew, and has the national peculiarities accredited to Jews by the Gentile mind of the time. There is his love of money. You would misread Shylock to suppose that love of money is his ruling passion. One passion in him certainly is stronger, and, though it ultimately takes such deadly shape, yet is it fed by such beaxitifui things as love of kindred and nation, and hatred of injustice : corniptio optimi pessima. I daresay that if Leah had lived she might have told of another passion also that had once held its own with the moneybags. As for assuming, from what he says of his daughter, that Shylock was destitute of natural feeling — why, what else could ha have said about a heartless minx who had committed every kind of impiety that deserved curses, who had betrayed her father, her nation, and her religion, and bartered her mother's turquoise for a monkey? Was this a daughter for a strong, fierce old man to break his heart about ? But undoubtedly love oE money is one of Shylock's strong passions— as how could it help to be with any masterful Jew of the time. It te a trite saying that money is power. But to the Jew of the middle ages it was the only possible form of power. In countiiea where the rights of property were respected, as in Venice, the possession of wealth -was the one means by which the Jew could have the whiphand of his Christian oppressor. And not merely did the Jew's only hope of power lie in money ; there was further only one possible way in which even his money could bring him power. Antonio's money was to him also power ; but in a way impossible to Shylock. By a generous distribution of his wealth, the gentle, mooning, sentimental, but prosperous Venetian gentleman could no doubt establish an empire over the hearts of Venice. Antonio's generosity was one of the strong chains that bound to him Bassanio, and attracted to him such buzzing water-flies as Solanio, Salarino, and Gratiano. This kind of empire over the Christian heart a Jew could never hope to hold, were he rich as Croesus and generous as Timon. His only chance of power lay in usury, in having the Christian on the hip and following up his advantage. Now, subject a man of Shylock's strong and masterful nature to the gross insolence and injustice to which he and his race were exposed in Venice — more particularly from the Christian merchant and gentleman, Antonio. What can he do but proceed the shortest way to be even with his enemy ? And Shakespeare shows us how this was done— or how it failed to be done— by a strong nature in a certain set of circumstances. Have patience with me whilst I examine the motives of Shylock's hatred to see how far they were adequate — (1) I hate him for he is a Christian. And a very good reason too. You and I would have hated him for precisely the same general reason if we had been Jews of Venice at the time. For what cause should we have had to love him ? That he professed a Gospel which preached love, equality, and the fiacredness of humanity ? And practised his Gospel by reviling the people who gave him his Christ, and by spitting on their gaberdines ? (2) But more for that, in low simplicity, He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice. Well, I have nothing to say against a gentleman who declines to put his money in the three per cents. ; though I could have wished, for the credit of Venetian commerce, that Antonio had had, in certain other respects, better business habits. Antonio doubtless had his own ways of breeding money — rich man that he was — and gob his interest somehow — from some Adriatic gold dredging company possibly. At any rate, ib is quite intelligible how Shylock, with his severe trade principles, despised Antonio for his simplicity, and hated him for interfering with profits. It is only Christians who love those who take away their bread. (3) He hates our sacred nation. Our sacred nation, mark you. And what is it a good patriot's duty to do with those who I hate his nation? The French, for instance, | hate the Germans — and the Christian Germans love the French I suppose ? Credat Judteus ! I mean, let Shylock believe ib if he can. Further, if you hold your own nation sacred, and the other accursed, hatred of its haters is a double act of piety — religious and patriotic. So, at least, did the Hebrew Shylock believe. (4) He rails, Even there where merchants most do congregate, On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, Which he calls interest. Shylock's first three reasons for hating ] Antonio, you will observe, are general. All Jews might have hated him, and probably did hate him, for the same reason. Bub the fourth is Shylock's peculiar and private reason : with a gentleman of his temperament quite- as weighty, you may be sure, ai any of the other three. And, to say truth, Shylock did well to bs angry, for Antonio had behaved in a way that was anything but creditable to his taste— to say nothing of his Christian principles. Now, theße. being the grounds of displeasure

against Antonio, what is Shylock to do ? If he had been a Christian, he would with proper meekness have forgiven the Venetian merchant. When Antonio called him " misbeliever " and " cut-throat dog," he would have answered with a patient shrug and put the insult in his pocket. When Antonio spat on one side of his Jewiah gaberdine, he would have turned the other also. But Shylock had been brought up in the traditions of another dispensation. He knew nothing of a kis3 for a blow, except that ib was the doctrine of the discredited Nazarene. The school in which he had been taught had been that of inflexible justice — an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Well, then, let him pay Antonio back ia kind. When Antonio rails let Shyloek rail again, and when Antonio spits upon Shylock's gaberdine let Shylock reply upon Anbonio's velvet doublet. Nay, but such retaliation was nob possible for Shylock. 'Twere pity of his life to attempt ; payment after this sort. Besides, eye for eye, tooth for tooth is a mere formula ; it is nob, at least to my unlegal mind, an exact statement of the lex talionis. If you are so aggressive as to take one of my teeth, shall I be content with one of yours ? That might be complete sabisfacbion if the injury on your part were unintentional, and if your tooth fitted exactly and securely into the vacant place amongst my ivories. But if the injury were intentional it is clear that tooth for tooth is not enough. I must have something for the intention ; I may demand more than a tooth — your eye, maybe, or your head, or a pound of flesh nearest your heart, according to the fierceness of my nature and the acuteness of my sense of injury. So it was with bhis strong, masterful, and revengeful Jew. He had borne much ; he would exact much, and bhat pitilessly, when the time came ; but all in a sbricbly legitimate way : the whole process would be within bhe four corners of the law. Had Shylock lived say in bhe time of Tom Jones, or even of Mr Pickwick, his revenge would have been different, and far more practicable. He would have boughb up all Anbonio's nobes of hand, and would then, like any decent, law-abiding Christian, have beggared his enemy and allowed him to rot the rest of his days in bhe Fleeb. If the Venice of the time had a debtors' prison I am not sure that this would nob have beon a refinement on Shylock's revenge. Shylock's revenge must have been shortlived. Did he bub cut deep enough, Antonio had quittance at once of his debt and of all his other troubles. Bub bhe debbors' prison — squalor, filth, and hunger — might have been lifelong. Shyloek, as such natures do, bides his time, and at length the possibility presents itself of paying off old scores. The part of bhe drama that concerns the bond transaction leaves much to be desired in bhe mabter of credibility. But since the purposes of art permit the necessary make-believe, you must nob look into this bransaction with too critical an eye. Suppose the bond possible, Aotonio's losses duly made, and opportunity come to Shylock of feeding fab his grudge. This is bhe supreme moment of the drama — the battle-royal between justice and mercy, between the old dispensation and the new. Is there a more acute moment in any Shakespeare drama ? I try to think of a situation that produces the same intensity of anxious strain. I think of the murder of Duncan, of the play scene in "Hamlet," oi the bed-chamber and tomb scenes in "Romeo and Juliet." In none is the tension so greab as in this trial scene. Time brings to the Jew the opportunity he has dreamed of. If a gentleman will indulge himself in bhe luxury of spitting on his enemy's gaberdine, and of entering into loose, unbusiness-like contracts with that enemy, must he not bake the consequences? What would you have? None of you can think that Antonio deserved tender treatment at bhe hands of the Jew. " When I saw the 'Merchant of Venice' given at Drury Lanf," says the German poet Heine, "there stood behind me a beautiful pale English lady, who at the end of the fourth act wept earnestly and cried out several bimes, ♦ The poor man is wronged.' Ib was a face of bhe noblesb Grecian casb, and the eyes were large and black. I have never been able to forget them — those great black eyes that wept for Shylock." Yes, truly ; you may trust the criticism of the lady's tears ; and had the reprisal desired upon Antonio been moderate, at all proportionate to his offence — say a period of sequestration in the dungeon of the Venetian Marshalsea, or say a fine ot 3000 ducats, with his nose, or even a few of his teeth, pulled by Shylock in open court— I have ib in my heart to wish I had been bhere to see. But such a penalty as this ! A pound of flesh ? Out upon thee, villain ! And cut off nearest his heart? This will never do, genble Hebrew : ib is going boo far : and if that duke sitting there upon the bench were nob a numskull, and all bhe lawyers in Venice incapables, the bond would be torn up instanter as an illegal and impossible contract. Portia gets much credit for setbling',bhis difficulb law-poinb ; and bhab after being coached by Bellario. Now, I have nothing to say against Portia : 'twere piby of my head to commib such breason. She is altogether charming : and we cannot be sufficiently thankful that the incompetency of the Venetian lawyers gave her the opportunity of donniDg the gown, and of saying such delightful things about justice and mercy. But for her knowledge of law — the less said about that bhe bebber. I cannot say that lam much impressed by the lady's legal acumen. I cannot tell what the population of Venice may have been in the time of Shylock— larger bhan bhe present population of Dunedin by a long way, I should imagine. Yet I venture to say, wibhoub fear of contradiction, that you might find in Dunedin a round score of score of women who would have settled Shylock's case for him in a scratch of the addle-pated judge's goose-quill, and that without any coaching from Bellario. Nay, I will even go further and maintain that not a few of bhe Dunedin lawyers would have mastered bhe aibuabion — with a little patient study. If anyone asks, "Was Shakespeare Bacon ? " it seems bo me bhat the flimsy law of the Merchant of Venice should go in the direction of showing that, at any rate, he was not Lord Chancellor Bacon. "The Merchant of Venice" is, properly speaking, not one play but two, and I have been concerning myself with the first. The main interest of the drama ceases with the I t'ial scene iv the fourth acb. When Shylock quits the court the curtain practically drops upon the play. The fifth act is a bathos — a beautiful, sparkling, delightful bathos, bub a bathos still. It is really a second little play, in which we have already acquaintance with the characters — a charming comedietta, with the usual time-honoured quips and cranks of love iatrigue— but, fresh 3 in Shakespeare's use of them, as the also time-honoured drops of dew upon the morning grass ; an afterpiece full of the [poetry of moonlight, and of music, and of night. The real drama, as I say, closes with Shylock's exit in the fourth acb ; and I have, bherefore, never been able bo regard the " Merchant of Venice "as a comedy. Tha main issue is tragis enough, in all conscience ; for the figure mosb impressive by its moral grandeur yields before our eyes to calamities that are worse than death. Is ib no bragedy when a mighty boasb of prey, baulked of its victim, falls to the hunters' javelins ? Cat* any one,

or all, of the Christian hounds that hunt in pack, compare in sublimity and majesty witn that lion of the Tribe of Judah, standing there at bay, and, set upon by enemies— despatched into his jungle to die, overborne and broken, but, to the last, fierce, sullen, and untamed of heart ? The selections from the play comprised tne firsb, second, and third scenes of act I ; scenes 2, 3, 5, 6, and 8, act II ; scenes 1, 2, and 4, act III ; scene 1, acb IV ; and scene 1, act V. Mr A. H. Burton gave an effective reading of the part of Shylock ; Miss Alexander as Portia was eminently satisfactory. The part of Antonio was read by Mr J. C. Stephens, and that of Bassanio by Mr M. Pasco. The former gentlemen was at times a little indistinct in his utterances, while the delivery of Mr Pasco was characterised by a monotony which marred the general effect of his reading. Mr T. W. Whifcson evidently appreciated the humour of Gratiano, and the other parts were sustained as follows : — Nerissa, Miss Stone ; Jessica, Miss Leech ; Salanio, Mr A. H. Adams; Duke, Mr A. Borrows ; Salarino, Mr G. Bray ; Launcelot, Mr A. Ledger; Lorenzo, Mr A. Weber; and Tubal, Mr A. S. Fleming.