(Had to recite this monologue in front of our 2nd year HS class. Only a few lines remain in the ol’ noggin today. Had to look it up to recall the whole piece.)
The quality of mercy is not strain'd.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The thronèd monarch better than his crown.
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway.
It is enthronèd in the hearts of kings;
It is an attribute to God Himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this:
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy,
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea,
Which, if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
The Merchant of Venice, Act 4, Scene 1
LISTEN TO IT SPOKEN!
by Joan Plowright
IN A TV DRAMATIZATION OF THE MERCHANT OF VENICE:
Based on the National Theatre stage production by
director Jonathan Miller (1974)
The quality of mercy
Sep 9, 2013
For full information please visit http://globalshakespeares.org
Laurence Olivier as Shylock
Joan Plowright (Olivier's real-life wife) as Portia
Jeremy Brett as Bassanio
Interesting facts about this small screen adaptation:
Merchant of Venice, The (1974)
Courtesy of ITV Global Entertainment Ltd
ATV for ITV, tx. 10/2/1974, colour, 127 mins
Directed by John Sichel
Stage director Jonathan Miller
Production CompaniesATV, National Theatre
Producer Cecil Clarke
Designer Peter Roden
MusicCarl DavisCast: Laurence Olivier (Shylock); Joan Plowright (Portia); Jeremy Brett (Bassanio); Michael Jayston (Gratiano); Anthony Nicholls (Antonio); Anna Carteret (Nerissa); Louise Purnell (Jessica)
Venetian merchant Antonio borrows from Jewish moneylender Shylock, but finds that the latter's terms are less than favourable when he runs into difficulties.
Widely regarded as the most convincing screen adaptation of The Merchant of Venice to date, this ATV production was sourced from Jonathan Miller's acclaimed 1970 National Theatre staging.
Aside from its artistic merit, it's also a valuable historical record, preserving Laurence Olivier's farewell to stage Shakespeare (though he would record King Lear for Granada Television in 1983). While his Shylock is somewhat broad for the small screen, it provides a tantalising glimpse of how it might have come across in the theatre. Apparently at Miller's insistence, Olivier plays down the character's overtly Jewish characteristics (certainly compared with his notorious cantor in the 1980 remake of The Jazz Singer), even to the point of having Shylock conceal his skull cap under a top hat whenever he goes about his public business.
As that detail implies, Miller has updated the action to the late 19th century, a time when Jewish bankers were hugely influential in central Europe, but before the overt anti-semitism of the Nazi era: here, it's much subtler but just as destructive. While most productions contrast Antonio (good) and Shylock (bad), here, they are almost indistinguishable in dress, speech and behaviour: it's only Shylock's ethnic origin that sets him apart from the rest of society. Tellingly, Miller cuts the line "I hate him for he is a Christian", underlining his view of Shylock as misunderstood victim. Olivier's animal howl of despair as the trial ends is so unnerving that even his harshest critics are visibly shaken.
Joan Plowright is a splendidly imperious Portia, slightly older than many, but this has the effect of stressing the length of time she's had to wait for a husband. The second claimant to her hand, Arragon (Charles Kay) is portrayed as a doddering, borderline senile old man, which adds extra resonance both to his embittered realisation that he's looking at "the portrait of a blinking idiot" and of the risks Portia has to take in fulfilling her father's legacy. She's so aware of this that she deliberately prods Bassanio (Jeremy Brett) in the right direction, with the help of a gloriously over-the-top vocal duet.
The other key musical moment is quieter but more potent: in the final sequence, Shylock's estranged daughter Jessica (who has already seemed oddly distant throughout the final scenes of reconciliation) is left alone to read the Kaddish, the Hebrew prayer for the dead, while it is sung on the soundtrack.
Michael Brooke
WATCH THE FULL PLAY!
Click on link or image capture below:
https://archive.org/details/national-theatre-the-merchant-of-venice-starring-laurence-olivier-1974
Teresa, would you believe I directed a production of this play in high school? Haha! It was a big hit, actually. Portia's speech--as you know--derives from scripture (here I go again about 'mercy'...)
On a separate but perhaps related note: unfortunately, with the state of affairs these days it is not unfathomable to think that some gospels may be condemned, 'antisemitic'.