The Merchant Of Venice(Illustrated) E-Book

William Shakespeare

• Herausgeber: Jillian Wayne
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2025

Beschreibung

• Illustrated Edition: 20 evocative, full-page illustrations
• Bonus Content: Concise summary of the play
• Study Aids: Complete characters list
• Author Spotlight: Brief biography of William Shakespeare

Step into the glittering markets of Venice and the moonlit gardens of Belmont in Shakespeare’s timeless blend of romance, risk, and razor-sharp wit. This beautifully designed edition pairs the complete, unabridged text with twenty atmospheric illustrations that bring each scene to life—from the daring bond between Antonio and Shylock to Portia’s dazzling triumph in the courtroom.
When Bassanio seeks fortune and love, he turns to his friend Antonio—and to a perilous loan from Shylock, a moneylender long scorned by Venice’s elites. As ships vanish and debts come due, the play hurtles toward a trial where mercy, law, and vengeance collide. Portia, the brightest mind in Belmont, disguises herself to tip the scales, while caskets, rings, and riddles test what truly has value: gold, silver, or steadfast hearts.
Why this edition stands out
The 20 original illustrations capture the play’s contrasts—opulence and prejudice, laughter and loss—making it ideal for both first-time readers and longtime admirers.
A concise summary clarifies plot and themes without spoiling the joy of discovery.
A clean, easy-to-reference characters list keeps every voice in the chorus of Venice and Belmont at your fingertips.
A brief author biography situates the drama in Shakespeare’s life and stagecraft.
Whether you’re reading for pleasure, preparing for performance, or building a classic library, this edition offers a vivid, accessible gateway into one of Shakespeare’s most debated—and most beloved—plays. Turn the page and let Venice speak.

 

Leseprobe

The Merchant Of Venice By                                                           William Shakespeare

ABOUT SHAKESPEARE

William Shakespeare (baptized April 26, 1564–April 23, 1616) grew up the son of a glover in Stratford-upon-Avon, a market town whose rhythms—fairs, church calendars, guild politics—left fingerprints on his imagination. He likely attended the local grammar school, where long days of Latin drill and rhetoric trained him to turn a phrase and argue a point—skills he later folded into characters who spar as deftly as they love.

At eighteen he married Anne Hathaway; their daughter Susanna was born the next year, followed by twins, Hamnet and Judith. By the early 1590s Shakespeare had joined London’s bustling theater world as an actor and playwright. He became a shareholder in the Lord Chamberlain’s Men (renamed the King’s Men under James I), a business decision as important as any sonnet: it tied his livelihood to a company that needed his next hit and gave him a say in how his plays were staged.

Shakespeare wrote across fashionable categories—comedies, histories, tragedies, and later, the ambiguous “romances.” Early comedies like A Midsummer Night’s Dream juggle misrule and harmony; the history plays probe legitimacy and leadership; the great tragedies—Hamlet, Othello, King Lear, Macbeth—watch private flaws crack open public worlds. In the late plays (The Winter’s Tale, The Tempest), storms give way to forgiveness, as if the playwright himself had found a new register for wonder.

He was also a poet of concentrated power. His 154 sonnets compress desire, jealousy, time, and art into fourteen-line machines that still tick with urgency. Two long narrative poems, Venus and Adonis and The Rape of Lucrece, helped keep his company afloat during plague closures—proof that Shakespeare’s career was as much about pragmatic survival as about inspiration.

As a practical man of the stage, he wrote for bodies and boards. The Globe Theatre, built in 1599 with his company’s investment, encouraged writing that played to daylight audiences: swift scenes, direct address, jokes tailored to the pit and poetry for the galleries. He recycled chronicle histories and borrowed old plots, not out of poverty of invention but to test how language could transform the familiar into the startlingly new.

Shakespeare retired to Stratford in the 1610s, a prosperous householder who had navigated the risks of show business into security. He died in 1616 and was buried in Holy Trinity Church. Seven years later his friends John Heminge and Henry Condell gathered his plays into the First Folio, preserving about half of them that had never seen print—an act of curation without which our Shakespeare would be smaller.

What makes him endure is not simply eloquence but elasticity. His verse can be bawdy or metaphysical, his characters both archetype and idiosyncrasy. He understood that people talk themselves into trouble and out of it, that power corrodes and love confuses, and that the stage—like life—works best when we are allowed to overhear ourselves. In that sense, Shakespeare is less a monument than a mirror: four centuries on, we keep recognizing our faces in his lines.

SUMMARY

Venice hums with risk and reputation. Antonio, a generous merchant, borrows money from Shylock, a Jewish moneylender he has long insulted, so his friend Bassanio can pursue the brilliant and wealthy Portia of Belmont. The bond is a trap: if Antonio can’t repay on time, Shylock may claim a “pound of flesh.”

In Belmont, suitors must choose between gold, silver, and lead caskets to win Portia. Many fail, dazzled by appearances; Bassanio chooses the humble lead and wins her hand. Back in Venice, Antonio’s ships are rumored wrecked, the debt comes due, and Shylock—sick of Christian mockery and the loss of his daughter, who elopes with a Christian—refuses mercy. The courtroom becomes a stage for law, faith, and vengeance.

A disguised Portia arrives as a young lawyer and shreds Shylock’s case: he may take flesh, but not blood; the law forbids it. The trap springs back. Shylock loses wealth and religious freedom, forced to convert and bequeath his fortune to those who wronged him. In the playful aftermath, Portia and her maid Nerissa test their husbands with a ring trick, revealing that the “lawyers” who saved Antonio were their wives all along.

Why it captivates: The play fuses romance and razor-edged debate—mercy vs. justice, love vs. money, appearance vs. reality. Portia’s courtroom brilliance dazzles; Shylock’s famous “Hath not a Jew eyes?” speech humanizes a villain and indicts prejudice. By the end, ships miraculously come in, but the victory is uneasy, asking whether a society that wins by cleverness has truly learned compassion.

CHARACTERS LIST

Main characters

Antonio — The “merchant of Venice”; generous to friends, melancholy by habit, bound to Shylock by a perilous loan.

Shylock — A Jewish moneylender; sharp, wounded by years of prejudice; demands the infamous “pound of flesh.”

Portia — Heiress of Belmont; witty, learned, and resourceful; later disguises herself as a young lawyer.

Bassanio — Antonio’s dear friend and Portia’s suitor; charming but indebted.

Friends & household (Venice)

Gratiano — Bassanio’s lively friend; later marries Nerissa.

Salarino and Salanio — Companions of Antonio and Bassanio; commentators on the action.

Lorenzo — Friend to Bassanio; elopes with Jessica.

Leonardo — Servant to Bassanio; helps arrange his courtship.

Shylock’s circle

Jessica — Shylock’s daughter; steals her father’s jewels and elopes with Lorenzo; struggles between love and loyalty.

Tubal — Shylock’s friend and fellow Jew; reports news of Antonio’s ships and Jessica’s spending.

Belmont circle (Portia’s household)

Nerissa — Portia’s lady-in-waiting and confidante; later disguises herself as a law clerk; marries Gratiano.

Balthazar — Portia’s servant (also the name Portia uses in disguise as the lawyer).

Stephano — Another of Portia’s servants.

Rulers, suitors & officials

Duke of Venice — Presides over the trial; urges mercy but upholds the law.

Prince of Morocco — Portia’s suitor; chooses the gold casket and loses.

Prince of Arragon — Another suitor; chooses the silver casket and loses.

Doctor Bellario — Learned lawyer of Padua; Portia’s kinsman who supplies the legal brief.

Clerk (Nerissa in disguise) — Assists “Balthazar” incourt.

Comic & minor roles

Launcelot Gobbo — Clownish servant (first to Shylock, then to Bassanio); provides comic relief.

Old Gobbo — Launcelot’s half-blind father.

Gaoler (Jailer), Magnificoes of Venice, Officers, Attendants — Support the courtroom and city scenes.

If you’d like, I can trim this to a quick study sheet (main characters only) or add memorable quotes for each!

Table of Contents

Titlepage

Imprint

Dramatis Personae

The Merchant of Venice

Act I

Scene I

Scene II

Scene III

Act II

Scene I

Scene II

Scene III

Scene IV

Scene V

Scene VI

Scene VII

Scene VIII

Scene IX

Act III

Scene I

Scene II

Scene III

Scene IV

Scene V

Act IV

Scene I

Scene II

Act V

Scene I

Colophon

Uncopyright

Dramatis Personae

The Duke of Venice

The Prince of Morocco, suitor to Portia

The Prince of Arragon, suitor to Portia

Antonio, a merchant of Venice

Bassanio, his friend, suitor likewise to Portia

Salanio, friend to Antonio and Bassiano

Salarino, friend to Antonio and Bassiano

Gratiano, friend to Antonio and Bassiano

Salerio, friend to Antonio and Bassiano

Lorenzo, in love with Jessica

Shylock, a rich Jew

Tubal, a Jew, his friend

Launcelot Gobbo, the clown, servant to Shylock

Old Gobbo, father to Launcelot

Leonardo, servant to Bassiano

Balthasar, servant to Portia

Stephano, servant to Portia

Portia, a rich heiress

Nerissa, her waiting-maid

Jessica, daughter to Shylock

Magnificoes of Venice, officers of the court of justice, gaoler, servants to Portia, and other attendants

Scene: Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on the Continent.

The Merchant of Venice

Act I

Scene I

Venice. A street.

Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Salanio.

Antonio

In sooth, 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,

What stuff ’tis made of, whereof it is born,

I am to learn;

And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,

That I have much ado to know myself.

Salarino

Your mind is tossing on the ocean;

There, where your argosies with portly sail,

Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,

Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,

Do overpeer the petty traffickers,

That curtsy to them, do them reverence,

As they fly by them with their woven wings.

Salanio

Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,

The better part of my affections would

Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still

Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind,

Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads;

And every object that might make me fear

Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt

Would make me sad.

Salarino

My wind cooling my broth

Would blow me to an ague, when I thought

What harm a wind too great at sea might do.

I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,

But I should think of shallows and of flats,

And see my wealthy Andrew dock’d in sand,

Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs

To kiss her burial. Should I go to church

And see the holy edifice of stone,

And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,

Which touching but my gentle vessel’s side,

Would scatter all her spices on the stream,

Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,

And, in a word, but even now worth this,

And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought

To think on this, and shall I lack the thought

That such a thing bechanced would make me sad?

But tell not me; I know, Antonio

Is sad to think upon his merchandise.

Antonio

Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it,

My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,

Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate

Upon the fortune of this present year:

Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.

Salarino

Why, then you are in love.

Antonio

Fie, fie!

Salarino

Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad,

Because you are not merry: and ’twere as easy

For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry,

Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus,

Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time:

Some that will evermore peep through their eyes

And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper,

And other of such vinegar aspect

That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile,

Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.