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.

And at the last ten thousand crownes
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.

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 crownes

To thee here will I give.

No: no quoth he; no: judgement here:

For this it shall be tride,

For I will have my pound of fleshe

From under his right side.

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 is

With whetted blade in hand,1

To spoyle the bloud of innocent,
By forfeit of his bond.

And as he was about to strike

In him the deadly blow:

Stay (quoth the judge) thy crueltie;
I charge thee to do so.

1 The passage in Shakspeare bears so strong a resemblance to this, as to render it probable that the one suggested the other. See act iv. sc. 2.

BASS. Why doest thou whet thy knife so earnestly? &c.

Sith needs thou wilt thy forfeit have,
Which is of flesh a pound:

See that thou shed no drop of bloud,
Nor yet the man confound.

For if thou doe, like murderer,
Thou here shalt hanged be:
Likewise of flesh see that thou cut
No more than longes to thee:

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,
And wotes 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;
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,
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!

And so with griping1 grieved mind
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,
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,

1 "Griped." Ashmol. copy.

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 eke

That meaneth so to do.

Since the first edition of this book was printed, the Editor hath had reason to believe that both Shakspeare 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 1554, in a book entitled, "Il Pecorone, nel quale si contengono Cinquanta Novelle antiche," &c. republished at Florence about the year 1748, or 9. 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 Shakspeare 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 above, pt. 2. 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 abridgment of the novel which Mr. Johnson has given us at the end of his Commentary on Shakspeare'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 Shakspeare is taken, translated from the Italian. To which is added a translation of a Novel from the Decamerone of Boccacio." London, printed for M. Cooper, 1755, 8vo.

XII. THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE

This beautiful sonnet is quoted in "The Merry Wives of Windsor," act iii. sc. I. and hath been usually ascribed (together with the Reply) to Shakspeare himself by the modern editors of his smaller poems. A copy of this madrigal, containing only four stanzas (the 4th and 6th being wanting), accompanied with the first stanza of the answer, being printed in "The passionate Pilgrime, and Sonnets to sundry Notes of Musicke, by Mr. William Shakspeare." Lond. printed for W. Jaggard, 1599. Thus was this sonnet, &c. published as Shakspeare's in his lifetime.

And yet there is good reason to believe that (not Shakspeare, but) Christopher Marlow wrote the song, and Sir Walter Raleigh the "Nymph's Reply:" for so we are positively assured by Isaac Walton, a writer of some credit, who has inserted them both in his " Compleat

Angler," under the character of "that smooth song, which was made by Kit. Marlow, now at least fifty years ago; and . an answer to it, which was made by Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days . . oldfashioned poetry, but choicely good.' It also passed for Marlow's in the opinion of his contemporaries; for in the old Poetical Miscellany, intitled "England's Helicon," it is printed with the name of Chr. Marlow subjoined to it; and the Reply is signed Ignoto, which is known to have been a signature of Sir Walter Raleigh. With the same signature Ignoto, in that collection, is an imitation of Marlow's beginning thus:

Come live with me, and be my dear,

And we will revel all the year,

In plains and groves, &c.

Upon the whole I am inclined to attribute them to Marlow, and Raleigh; notwithstanding the authority of Shakspeare's Book of Sonnets. For it is well known that as he took no care of his own compositions, so was he utterly regardless what spurious things were fathered upon him. "Sir John Oldcastle," "The London Prodigal,' and "The Yorkshire Tragedy," were printed with his name at full length in the title-pages, while he was living, which yet were afterwards rejected by his first editors Heminge and Condell, who were his intimate friends (as he mentions both in his will), and therefore no doubt had good authority for setting them aside."

The following sonnet appears to have been (as it deserved) a great favourite with our earlier poets: for, besides the imitation above mentioned, another is to be found among Donne's Poems, intitled "The Bait," beginning thus :

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some new pleasures prove
Of golden sands, &c.

As for Chr. Marlow, who was in high repute for his dramatic writings, he lost his life by a stab received in a brothel, before the year 1593. See A. Wood, i. 138.

COME live with me, and be my love,
And we wil all the pleasures prove
That hils and vallies, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.
There will we sit upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

There will I make thee beds of roses
With a thousand fragrant posies,

A cap of flowers, and a kirtle

Imbrodered all with leaves of mirtle;

1 First printed in the year 1653, but probably written some time before.

2 Since the above was written, Mr. Malone, with his usual discernment, hath rejected the stanzas in question from the other sonnets, &c. of Shakspeare, in his correct edition of the "Passionate Pilgrim," &c. See his Shaksp. vol. x. p. 340.

A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Slippers lin'd choicely from the cold;
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw, and ivie buds,
With coral clasps, and amber studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Then live with me, and be
my love.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning :
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my love.

THE NYMPH'S REPLY

If that the World and Love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's toung,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee, and be thy love.

But time drives flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold,
And Philomel becometh dumb,
And all complain of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yield:
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancies spring, but sorrows fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw, and ivie buds,

Thy coral clasps, and amber studs ;
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee, and be thy love.

But could youth last, and love still breed,
Had joyes no date, nor age no need ;
Then those delights my mind might move
To live with thee, and be thy love.

VOL. I.