46 L. A. Sherman 



live with an acting version, I came to track the marvellous stage-cleverness 

 of it all; when, in revulsion, I grew impatient with all judgments of Shake- 

 speare passed on the mere reading of him. This had happened to me 

 before with The Taming of the Shrew — a play noisier in the study than 

 on the stage ; strident, setting the teeth on edge ; odious till acted ; when 

 it straightway becomes not only tolerable, but pleasant, and not only 

 pleasant, but straightforwardly effective. In particular, I had to own of 

 The Merchant of Venice that the lines which really told on the stage 

 were lines the reader passes by casually, not pausing to take their im- 

 pression. It fairly surprised me, for an example, that Lorenzo's famous 

 speech in the last Act — about the music and the moonlight and the stars — 

 though well delivered, carried less weight than four little words of Portia's. 



It is pleasing tO' find our author thus recognizing the significance 

 of the Fifth Act, which suppHes the objective and artistic cHmax 

 of the whole. Certain critics assure us that Shakespeare really 

 finished the play with the Fourth Act, but didn't know it, and so 

 going about to add the conventional fifth part, ended the piece 

 with a moon-lit anticlimax. Shakespeare's rules of construction 

 require that the felicity of Bassanio and Portia, which as the 

 unifying and controlling consummation has been on our minds 

 from the beginning, should be * featured ' at the close either for 

 realization or defeat. Since this is not a tragedy, the issue will be 

 fulfillment and not defeat, and must be as dramatic or spectacular 

 as possible. As the pair are wedded — Portia was not to rescue 

 her lover's surety single — but separated, no fit conclusion can 

 proceed except with or after their home-coming. And evidently 

 they must not arrive before the gates of Belmont Park together. 



Excellent is the 'composition,' as the artists say, of the scene 

 before us. First the beauty of the night, then the beauty of the 

 grounds that front the palace. Then the happiness of the proxy- 

 iovers, who hold the home open for those who come. Then the 

 messenger, announcing that the mistress approaches, not hasting, 

 but anxiously and slow. Then the servant who reports that the 

 groom will arrive — ere morning. The night advances, and wait- 

 ing is beguiled with poetic thoughts and music. And on the 

 background of this beauty of sight and sentiment and sound, 

 Portia and Nerissa approach. Very properly and positively 

 Portia asserts herself as mistress of the whole : 



That light we see is burning in my hall. 

 148 



