Moneylending, in Shakespeare's Play (1)

"News has spread that the state assets in a certain country, under a certain regime, have experienced a sharp increase... etc... etc. And there are three men, a mathematician, an accountant and an economist apply for the same job.

The interviewer calls in the mathematician and asks, 'What do two plus two equal?' The mathematician replies 'Four.' The interviewer asks 'Four, exactly?' The mathematician looks at the interviewer incredulously and says Yes, four, exactly!'

Then the interviewer calls in the accountant and asks the same question, 'What do two plus two equal?' The accountant says 'On average, four—give or take ten percent, but on average, four.'

Then the interviewer calls in the economist and poses the same question 'What do two plus two equal?' The economist gets up, locks the door, closes the shade, sits down next to the interviewer and says, 'What do you want it to equal?'" said the Moon—she had changed roles with the Full Moon—when she arrived, after saying Basmalah and Salam.

"William Shakespeare," the Moon moved on, "was an extraordinarily intelligent man who was born and died in an ordinary market town in the English Midlands. He lived an uneventful life in an eventful age. Born in April 1564, he was the eldest son of John Shakespeare, a glove maker who was prominent on the town council until he fell into financial difficulties.

Shakespeare was an actor before he was a writer. Shakespeare’s theatrical career began at the Rose Theatre in Southwark. The stage was wide and shallow, trapezoid in shape, like a lozenge. He paid close attention to the work of the university-educated dramatists who were writing history plays and tragedies for the public stage in a style more ambitious, sweeping, and poetically grand than anything that had been seen before. In his early thirties and in full command of both his poetic and his theatrical medium, he perfected his art of comedy, while also developing his tragic and historical writing in new ways.

The Merchant of Venice—one of Shakespeare's many works—was probably written in either 1596 or 1597, after Shakespeare had written such plays as Romeo and Juliet and Richard III, but before he penned the great tragedies of his later years. Although classified as a comedy in the First Folio and sharing certain aspects with Shakespeare's other romantic comedies, the play is most remembered for its dramatic scenes.

The Merchant of Venice tells about Antonio, a Venetian Merchant, complains to his friends of a melancholy that he cannot explain. His friend Bassanio is desperately in need of money to court Portia, a wealthy heiress who lives in the city of Belmont. Bassanio asks Antonio for a loan in order to travel in style to Portia’s estate. Antonio agrees, but is unable to make the loan himself because his own money is all invested in a number of trade ships that are still at sea. Antonio suggests that Bassanio secure the loan from one of the city’s moneylenders and name Antonio as the loan’s guarantor. In Belmont, Portia expresses sadness over the terms of her father’s will, which stipulates that she must marry the man who correctly chooses one of three caskets. None of Portia’s current suitors are to her liking, and she and her lady-in-waiting, Nerissa, fondly remember a visit paid some time before by Bassanio.

In Venice, Antonio and Bassanio approach Shylock, a Jewish moneylender, for a loan. Shylock nurses a long-standing grudge against Antonio, who has made a habit of berating Shylock and other Jews for their usury, the practice of loaning money at exorbitant rates of interest, and who undermines their business by offering interest-free loans. Although Antonio refuses to apologize for his behavior, Shylock acts agreeably and offers to lend Bassanio three thousand ducats with no interest. Shylock adds, however, that should the loan go unpaid, Shylock will be entitled to a pound of Antonio’s own flesh. Despite Bassanio’s warnings, Antonio agrees. In Shylock’s own household, his servant Launcelot decides to leave Shylock’s service to work for Bassanio, and Shylock’s daughter Jessica schemes to elope with Antonio’s friend Lorenzo. That night, the streets of Venice fill up with revelers, and Jessica escapes with Lorenzo by dressing as his page. After a night of celebration, Bassanio and his friend Gratiano leave for Belmont, where Bassanio intends to win Portia’s hand.

In Belmont, Portia welcomes the prince of Morocco, who has come in an attempt to choose the right casket to marry her. The prince studies the inscriptions on the three caskets and chooses the gold one, which proves to be an incorrect choice. In Venice, Shylock is furious to find that his daughter has run away, but rejoices in the fact that Antonio’s ships are rumored to have been wrecked and that he will soon be able to claim his debt. In Belmont, the prince of Arragon also visits Portia. He, too, studies the caskets carefully, but he picks the silver one, which is also incorrect. Bassanio arrives at Portia’s estate, and they declare their love for one another. Despite Portia’s request that he wait before choosing, Bassanio immediately picks the correct casket, which is made of lead. He and Portia rejoice, and Gratiano confesses that he has fallen in love with Nerissa. The couples decide on a double wedding. Portia gives Bassanio a ring as a token of love, and makes him swear that under no circumstances will he part with it. They are joined, unexpectedly, by Lorenzo and Jessica. The celebration, however, is cut short by the news that Antonio has indeed lost his ships, and that he has forfeited his bond to Shylock. Bassanio and Gratiano immediately travel to Venice to try and save Antonio’s life. After they leave, Portia tells Nerissa that they will go to Venice disguised as men.

Shylock ignores the many pleas to spare Antonio’s life, and a trial is called to decide the matter. The duke of Venice, who presides over the trial, announces that he has sent for a legal expert, who turns out to be Portia disguised as a young man of law. Portia asks Shylock to show mercy, but he remains inflexible and insists the pound of flesh is rightfully his. Bassanio offers Shylock twice the money due him, but Shylock insists on collecting the bond as it is written. Portia examines the contract and, finding it legally binding, declares that Shylock is entitled to the merchant’s flesh. Shylock ecstatically praises her wisdom, but as he is on the verge of collecting his due, Portia reminds him that he must do so without causing Antonio to bleed, as the contract does not entitle him to any blood. Trapped by this logic, Shylock hastily agrees to take Bassanio’s money instead, but Portia insists that Shylock take his bond as written, or nothing at all. Portia informs Shylock that he is guilty of conspiring against the life of a Venetian citizen, which means he must turn over half of his property to the state and the other half to Antonio. The duke spares Shylock’s life and takes a fine instead of Shylock’s property. Antonio also forgoes his half of Shylock’s wealth on two conditions: first, Shylock must convert to Christianity, and second, he must will the entirety of his estate to Lorenzo and Jessica upon his death. Shylock agrees and takes his leave.

Bassanio, who does not see through Portia’s disguise, showers the young law clerk with thanks, and is eventually pressured into giving Portia the ring with which he promised never to part. Gratiano gives Nerissa, who is disguised as Portia’s clerk, his ring. The two women return to Belmont, where they find Lorenzo and Jessica declaring their love to each other under the moonlight. When Bassanio and Gratiano arrive the next day, their wives accuse them of faithlessly giving their rings to other women. Before the deception goes too far, however, Portia reveals that she was, in fact, the law clerk, and both she and Nerissa reconcile with their husbands. Lorenzo and Jessica are pleased to learn of their inheritance from Shylock, and the joyful news arrives that Antonio’s ships have in fact made it back safely. The group celebrates its good fortune.

That's it? Of course not. Many observers talk about this Shakespeare's work. Lindsay Kaplan, says that, in a sense, the Merchant of Venice provides its own context in which to be viewed or read insofar as the play offers a range ofresponses for many of the issues it raises. By proposing categories in conflict- tragedy and comedy, law and mercy, Jew and Christian, money and love, 'other' and same, female and male—Shakespeare offers his audience opposing perspectives on the action of the play. He also keeps these oppositions from being neat dichotomies by offering exceptions and complexities that multiply the perspectives from which an audience can consider them. However, the play's historical context reveals even more ways to understand the issues Shakespeare represents. The play was probably written in the mid- to late 1590s, near the end of Queen Elizabeth I's reign.

The play's setting: how does it represent Venice? says Kaplan. The play establishes a primary connection between Venice and trade: act I opens with a discussion between Antonio, a merchant of Venice, and his friends Salerio and Salanio about the vicissitudes of the trading profession.

Not only do people ofdifferent national origins, ethnicities, and religions flock to Venice, but its own inhabitants include outsiders, such as the Jewish moneylender Shylock. Venice both needs and distrusts its outsiders; both attitudes are present in the Venetian Christians' treatment of Shylock. Despite their dislike of him, Antonio and Bassanio are forced to tolerate Shylock because they need his money.

According to Jay L. Halio, the Merchant of Venice is Shakespeare's most controversial play. Among the many issues that merit discussion, besides the central one of anti-Semitism, are the relationships between parents and children (there are three sets of them in the play), particularly involving permission to marry, the position of women in society generally, justice and mercy, friendship, matrimony, and the various kinds of bonds that connect human beings with each other.

Another important issue, one raised by the very existence of a moneylender, Shylock, in the play, is the problem of usury. Christian doctrine generally opposed lending money at interest and exerted tremendous political pressure to prohibit it in England during the sixteenth century. Venice, as a center of world trade during this period and a place where many tourists flocked, then as now, was an exotic and intriguing locale—as were other cities in Europe—that attracted the interest of playwrights and their audiences.

So in this context, let's talk about debt and usury, briefly, according to these lovers of Shakespeare's plays. Look forward to the next session, seriously, not intending to do the opposite, and no lies! Bi 'idhnillah."

[Session 2]

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Finding Fear

"The Lion, hearing an odd kind of hollow voice, and seeing nobody, started up: he listened again, and hearing the noise repeated, he trembled and quaked for fear. At last, seeing a Frog crawl out of the lake, and finding that the noise he had heard was nothing but the croaking of that little creature, he went up to it with great anger; but checking himself, turned away from it, ashamed of his own timidity," the Moon started a discussion when her light at full in the mid of lunar days, after saying Basmalah and Salaam.

"This fable," said the Moon, "is a pretty image of the vain fears and empty terrors with which our weak misguided nature is so apt to be alarmed and distracted. We are struck with fear, and labour under a most unmanly, unreasonable trepidation; more especially if the alarm happens when we are alone, and in the dark.

And there is a Turkish fairy tale that tells, once, a very long time ago, there was a woman who had a son. Sitting both together one evening, the mother said to her son, 'Go, my child, and shut the door, for I have fear.'

'What is fear?' the boy asked his mother. 'When one is afraid,' was the answer. 'What then can this thing fear be?' pondered the son. 'I will go and find it.' So he set out, and came to a mountain where he saw forty robbers who lighted a fire and then seated them selves around it. The youth went up and greeted them, whereon one of the robbers addressed him. 'No bird dares to fly here, no caravan passes this place, how then dost thou dare to venture?'

'I am seeking fear; show it to me.'

'Fear is here, where we are,' said the robber.

'Where?' inquired the youth.

Then the robber commanded, 'Take this kettle, this flour, fat, and sugar; go into that cemetery yonder and make helwa therewith.'

'It is well,' replied the youth, and went.

In the cemetery he lit a fire and began to make the helwa. As he was doing so a hand reached out of the grave, and a voice said: "Do I get nothing?" Striking the hand with the spoon, he answered mockingly: "Naturally I should feed the dead before the living." The hand vanished, and having finished cooking the helwa the youth went back to the robbers.

'Hast found it?' they asked him.

'No,' replied he. 'All I saw was a hand which appeared and demanded helwa; but I struck it with the spoon and saw no more of it.'

The robbers were astonished. Then another of them remarked, 'Not far from here is a lonely building; there you can, no doubt, find fear.'

He went to the house, and entering, saw on a raised plat form a swing in which was a child weeping; in the room a girl was running hither and thither. The maiden approached him and said, 'Let me get upon your shoulders; the child is crying and I must quieten it.' He consented, and the girl mounted. While thus occupied with the child, she began gradually to press the youth's neck with her feet until he was in danger of strangulation. Presently, with a jerk that threw him down, the girl jumped from his shoulders and disappeared. As she went a bracelet fell from her arm to the floor.

Picking it up, the youth left the house. As he passed along the road, a Jew, seeing the bracelet, accosted him. 'That is mine,' he said.

'No, it is mine,' was the rejoinder.

'Oh, no, it is my property,' retorted the Jew.

'Then let us go to the Cadi,' said the youth. 'If he awards it to thee, it shall be thine; if, however, he awards it to me, it remains in my possession.'

So accordingly they went, and the Cadi said, 'The bracelet shall be his who proves his case.' Neither, however, was able to do this, and finally the judge ordered that the bracelet should be impounded till one of the claimants should produce its fellow, when it would be given up to him. The Jew and the youth then parted.

On reaching the coast, the boy saw a ship tossing to and fro out at sea, and heard fearful cries proceeding from it. He called out from the shore, 'Have you found fear?' and was answered with the cry, 'Oh, woe, we are sinking!' Quickly divesting him self of his clothes, he sprang into the water and swam toward the vessel. Those on board said, 'Someone is casting our ship to and fro, we are afraid.' The youth, binding a rope round his body, dived to the bottom of the sea. There he discovered that the Daughter of the Sea (Deniz Kyzy) was shaking the vessel. He fell upon her, flogged her soundly, and drove her away. Then, appearing at the surface, he asked: "Is this fear?' Without awaiting an answer he swam back to the shore, dressed himself, and went his way.

Now as he walked along, he saw a garden, in front of which was a fountain. He resolved to enter the garden and rest a little. Three pigeons disported themselves around the fountain. They dived down into the water, and as they came up again and shook themselves each was transformed into a maiden. They then laid a table, with drinking glasses. When the first carried a glass to her lips the others inquired: 'To whose health drinkest thou?' She answered, 'To that of the youth who, in making helwa, was not dismayed when a hand was stretched out to him from a grave.' As the second maiden drank, the others again asked, 'To whose health drinkest thou?' And the answer was, 'To the youth on whose shoulders I stood, and who showed no fear though I nearly strangled him,' Hereupon the third took up her glass. 'Of whom art thou thinking?' questioned the others. 'In the sea, as I tossed a ship to and fro,' the maiden replied, 'a youth came and flogged me so soundly that I nearly died. I drink his health.'

Hardly had the speaker finished when the youth himself appeared and said, 'I am that youth.' All three maidens hastened to embrace him, and he proceeded, 'At the Cadi's I have a bracelet that fell from the arm of one of you. A Jew would have deprived me of it but I refused to give it up. I am now seeking its fellow.'

The maidens took him to a cave where a number of stately halls that opened before him overwhelmed him with astonishment. Each was filled with gold and costly objects. The maidens here gave him the second bracelet, with which he went directly to the Cadi and received the first, returning without loss of time to the cave. 'You part from us no more,' said the maidens. 'That would be very nice,' replied the youth, 'but until I have found fear I can have no rest' Saying this he tore himself away, though they begged him earnestly to remain.

Presently he arrived at a spot where there was an immense crowd of people. 'What is the matter?' the youth inquired, and was informed that the Shah of the country was no more. A pigeon was to be set free, and he on whose head the bird should alight would be declared heir to the throne. The youth stood among the curious sightseers. The pigeon was loosed, wheeled about in the air, and eventually descended on the youth's head. He was at once hailed as Shah; but as he was unwilling to accept the dignity a second pigeon was sent up. This also rested on the youth's head. The same thing happened a third time. 'Thou art our Shah!' shouted the people. 'But I am seeking fear; I will not be your Shah," replied he, resisting the efforts of the crowd to carry him off to the palace. His words were repeated to the widow of the late ruler, who said, 'Let him accept the dignity for tonight at least; tomorrow I will show him fear.' The youth consented, though he received the not very comforting intelligence that whoever was Shah one day was on the following morning a corpse. Passing through the palace, he came to a room in which he observed that his coffin was being made and water heated. Nevertheless, he lay down calmly to sleep in this chamber; but when the slaves departed he arose, took up the coffin, set it against the wall, lit a fire round it and reduced it to ashes. This done, he lay down again and slept soundly.

When morning broke, slaves entered to carry away the new Shah's corpse; but they rejoiced at beholding him in perfect health, and hurried to the Sultana with the glad tidings. She thereupon called the cook and commanded, 'When you lay the supper tonight, put a live sparrow in the soup-dish.'

Evening came. The young Shah and the Sultana sat down to supper, and as the dish was brought in the Sultana said, 'Lift the lid of the dish.' 'No,' answered the youth; 'I do not wish for soup.'

'But please lift it,' repeated the Sultana persuasively. Now as the youth stretched out his hand and lifted the lid, a bird flew out. The incident was so unexpected that it gave him a momentary shock of fear. 'Seest thou!' cried the Sultana. 'That is fear.'

'Is it so?' asked the youth. 'Thou wast indeed afraid,' replied the Sultana.

Then the marriage feast was ordered, and it lasted forty days and forty nights. The young Shah had his mother brought to his palace and they lived happily ever after.

Fear is as non substantial as your shadow, but it is, says Acharya Rajneesh, known as Osho. The shadow also exists—nonsubstantial, negative, but not nonexistential—and sometimes the shadow can have a great impact on you. In a jungle when the night is approaching, you can be frightened of your own shadow. In a lonely place, on a lonely path, you can start running because of your own shadow. Your running will be real, your escaping will be real, but the cause will be nonsubstantial.

You can run away from a rope thinking that it is a snake; if you come back and you look closely and you observe, you will laugh at the whole stupidity of it. But people are afraid to come to places where fear exists. People are more afraid of fear than of anything else, because the very existence of fear shakes your foundations.

The shaking of the foundations is very real, remember. The fear is like a dream, a nightmare, but after a nightmare when you are awake the aftereffects still persist, the hangover persists. Your breathing has changed, you are perspiring, your body is still trembling, you are hot. Now you know that it was just a nightmare, a dream, nonsubstantial, but even this knowing will take time to penetrate to the very core of your being. Meanwhile the effect of the nonsubstantial dream will continue. Fear is a nightmare.

Then, what is fear made of? Fear is made of ignorance of one’s own self. There is only one fear; it manifests in many ways, a thousand and one can be the manifestations, but basically fear is one, and that is that 'Deep inside, 'I may not be'.' And in a way it is true that you are not.

Susan Jeffers, Ph.D., says that Fear can be broken down into three levels. The first level can be divided into two types: those that 'happen' and those that require action. Among those that 'happen', are: Aging; Becoming disabled; Retirement; Being alone; Children leaving home; Natural disasters; Loss of financial security; Change; Dying; War; Illness; Losing a loved one; Accidents; Rape.

Among those requiring action, are: Going back to school; Making decisions; Changing a career; Making friends; Ending or beginning a relationship; Going to the doctor; Asserting oneself; Losing weight; Being interviewed; Driving; Public speaking; Making a mistake; Intimacy.

Level 2 fears are not situation-oriented; they involve the ego. Among are: Rejection; Being conned; Success; Helplessness; Failure; Disapproval; Being vulnerable; Loss of image.

Level 2 fears have to do with inner states of mind rather than exterior situations. They reflect your sense of self and your ability to handle this world. This explains why generalized fear takes place. If you are afraid of being rejected, this fear will affect almost every area of your life—friends, intimate relationships, job interviews, and so on. Rejection is rejection—wherever it is found. So you begin to protect yourself, and, as a result, greatly limit yourself. You begin to shut down and close out the world around you.

Level 3 gets down to the nitty-gritty of the issue: the biggest fear of all—the one that really keeps you stuck: I CAN’T HANDLE IT!

'That’s it? That’s the big deal?' you may ask. I know you’re disappointed and wanted something much more dramatic than that. But the truth is this: AT THE BOTTOM OF EVERY ONE OF YOUR FEARS IS SIMPLY THE FEAR THAT YOU CAN’T HANDLE WHATEVER LIFE MAY BRING YOU.

The truth is: IF YOU KNEW YOU COULD HANDLE ANYTHING THAT CAME YOUR WAY, WHAT WOULD YOU POSSIBLY HAVE TO FEAR?

The answer is: NOTHING!

You can handle all your fears without having to control anything in the outside world, says Jeffers. You no longer have to control what your mate does, what your friends do, what your children do, or what your boss does. You don’t have to control what happens at an interview, what happens at your job, what happens in your new career, what happens to your money, or what happens in the stock market. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO TO DIMINISH YOUR FEAR IS TO DEVELOP MORE TRUST IN YOUR ABILITY TO HANDLE WHATEVER COMES YOUR WAY!"

The Moon then summarized with, "The early prejudices of a wrong education can only be eradicated from the strongest minds. The weak retain them through life. Fear is a natural passion, and its use is to put us upon our guard against danger, by alarming the spirits: but it, like all our other passions, should be kept in a state of subjection: for though they are all good and useful servants, yet if once they get the better of our reason, they prove the most domineering tyrants imaginable; nor do any of them treat us in so abject and slavish a manner as fear: it unnerves and enfeebles our limbs, while it fetters our understandings; and at the same time that it represents a danger near at hand, disarms and makes us incapable of defending ourselves from it. But we ought to call forth a sense of honour and shame, to correct such weaknesses. And Allah knows best."

Dawn was starting to come, it's time to go, the moon was moving away, while humming,

T'lah ku nyanyikan alunan-alunan senduku

[I've sung my sorrowful strains]

T'lah ku bisikkan cerita-cerita gelapku

[I've whispered my dark stories]

T'lah ku abaikan mimpi-mimpi dan ambisiku

[I've ignored my dreams and ambitions]

Tapi mengapa kutakkan bisa sentuh hatimu? *)

[But why I could never touch your heart?]

Citations & References:
- Thomas Bewick, Bewick Select Fables of Aesop and Others, 1871, Bickers & Son
- Ignaz Cunos, Forty-four Turkish Fairy Tales, 2017, Abela Publishing
- Osho, Fear: Understanding and Accepting the Insecurities of Life, 2012, St. Martin's Griffin
- Susan Jeffers, Ph.D., Feel the Fear... and Do It Anyway, 2007, Jeffers Press
*) "Simfoni Hitam" written by Sherina Munaf

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