by Jess Cooper
A dialog from 'The Merchant of Venice' by William Shakespeare, rewritten.
|The Merchant of Venice dialog - redone
Three thousand. Three precious thousand.
Do you understand our friendship is buried deep into my weary memory, Antonio?
Do you understand that the heavy burden of your curses shall be forever pasted into the album of... my memory?
Have you forgotten the names you had called me, in the worst of times?
Do you refuse to help me, then?
For I have noble reasons to ask you.
I’m in a need and in a hurry.
‘Tis not the dreadful past that matters, fool.
‘Tis the future.
Is the prospect of gaining wealth not worthy of your attention anymore, friend?
Is this oath, that I shall repay my debt to the last penny, not worthy of you?
For your thinking, you can think yourself fabulous
But there is no more use for thought if you are... penniless
Your wise talk is as cheap as a prostitute
Your kindness remains overshadowed by the names you’ve called me,
the scum you’ve accused me of,
the torture you sent upon me.
A slug! you’ve called me.
A monster! you said.
No respect for him! you shouted.
No respect for the Jew, for he is but a squalid spec of dirt in our city.
The city of those who worship not honesty, but blasphemy.
Although my possession is against your codex
You still wish to exploit it?
Antonio… you’re being so, so… you’re being stupid.
I make no apology.
Your thinking is wrong and your blood is poison.
Luckily, we have a thing in common.
I need your money, Jew.
I need it now.
I have done a lot of ridiculous things, many of which offended you, I do not deny any of that.
But I’ve never broken a promise.
So now, it is up to the promise.
Shylock, give me the money.
And I shall promise you to repay the debt, on the very day we agree on.
Let’s go to the notary and get to the business
So that you believe me my promise is sacrosanct as the Holy Word
And that I will not scam you
I will not exploit you
I will honor you
And I will keep my word
Ts! If you say so.
You will repay the money. Okay.
If you don’t
I want a pound of your own flesh.
I want you to cut it out yourself
Before my eyes
And then give it to me
And stay there, kneeling before me
So I can watch you weep
Do we have a deal then?