Are you perchance a member of Goodreads? If you are, then like me you’ll probably have seen their current ongoing Shakespeare celebration – because the 23rd of this month is the 400th anniversary of the Bards death.
SO! In honour of said occassion, they were running a bunch of “Deleted Scenes” from Shakespeare – some funny stuff there! In the spirit of the same, I decided, what the heck, let’s give it a shot!
And so good reader, I present to you, a deleted scene from the play that bored and tortured me in high school. Here for the first time in history, is the ORIGINAL ENDING from the Merchant of Venice before old Willy decided to go the more familiar route:
A pound of that same merchant’s flesh is thine:
The court awards it, and the law doth give it.
Most rightful judge!
And you must cut this flesh from off his breast:
The law allows it, and the court awards it.
Most learned judge! A sentence! Come, prepare!
Tarry a little; there is something else.
This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;
The words expressly are ‘a pound of flesh:’
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh;
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.
O upright judge! Mark, Jew: O learned judge!
Okay, hold on there people mine!
I think we might be getting carried away!
Mine anger and hate did overwhelm,
For that I do feel a smidge shame-y!
I’m good with an I.O.U,
Pay me later with the due sum he may.
So generous is my view!
Oh no! Flesh you wanted, flesh you’re getting!
Come on Jew-boy!
O learned judge! Mark, Jew: a learned judge!
Hey, hey! Ease thy mouth flap!
What’s with all the Jew-bashing huh?
You know we’re going to suffer a holocaust in 500 years!
Kinder should be the sound from you to mine ears!
Huh, never thought of that. Sorry ya old coot!
The Jew shall have all justice; soft! no haste:
He shall have nothing but the penalty.
You know what? Fine.
A man-bitch you want to be about it?
Then Gobbo my servant, grab me my shears!
His long flaxen locks shall be mine.
And they shall continue to be so until they fill a pound,
For No matter how many years.
But I… I mean you can’t…!
What? I can’t what?
Flesh becometh hair,
Hair once was flesh.
Thy terms I fulfill and get what is fair.
My Indian friend shall help make me some wigs,
Which I’ll sell at a nice profit,
To bored, stupid women everywhere.
(stunned silence and confusion)
Did none of you fools ever pay attention in science class?
Well, I hope that amused you at least just a wee bit – if I can, I think I’d like to do this again sometime for a laugh. If you’d like to see more, leave a like or a comment or something for me to know that.