14 October 2016

The Merchant of Venice is more than a play—it is a tale of two cities, as well as two fathers, two daughters, and two fortunes. Understanding this great play of opposites requires an understanding of William Shakespeare’s place in history: living 1564 – 1616, Shakespeare was an English Catholic and, for most of his life, subject to Queen Elizabeth I (1533 – 1606), whose reign began in 1558. By this time, English Catholics were essentially illegal persons. He spent the final ten years of his life as a subject of another persecutor of “papists,” namely, King James I (1566 – 1625) of England.¹ Through his plays, Shakespeare rebukes his progressively anti-Catholic world, though subtly enough that he could not be legally accused of treason (Berube). The Merchant of Venice, written in 1596 amidst unrelenting persecution, testifies to Shakespeare’s genius and unequivocal Catholicity through his brilliant contrast of two symbolic worlds.

The first of these worlds is Belmont, a refuge from the outside world whose name means “Beautiful Mountain.” There, Portia resides high above filthy Venice and removed from the world’s corruption while remaining the object of every man’s admiration, the loveliest and most virtuous woman in the world. However, only the purest and humblest of men, Bassanio, passes the test of the three chests, winning the little heaven called Belmont—and, more importantly, its lovely mistress (Berube). If Belmont is a heavenly refuge of good people, Portia is a type of the Queen of Heaven, the ideal woman whom every Catholic must love and trust:

“Her have I loved, and have sought her out from my youth, and have desired to take her for my spouse, and I became a lover of her beauty….for she teacheth temperance, and prudence, and justice, and fortitude, which are such things as men can have nothing more profitable in life.” (Wis. 8:2,7)

Indeed, Bassanio is the imperfect person whom Portia nevertheless loves and teaches charity and fidelity. More than anyone else, this lady makes Belmont the heaven that it is.²

On the other hand, cruelty and suffering overwhelm Venice, where Antonio loses his ships, Jessica loses her father, Lorenzo loses his honor, Shylock loses his wealth, and Antonio’s life is only saved by Portia’s intervention. The young woman’s unworthy suitors are rejected from Belmont and condemned to a city ruled by greed and politics: the government itself could not obtain mercy for Antonio against the wish of Shylock. The city is not totally evil, for some good men reside there, including Bassanio at the beginning of the play. However, Venice is unquestionably inferior to the Beautiful Mountain. If Belmont is heaven, Venice is an earth struggling in vain to find happiness in pleasure.

The differences between Belmont and Venice are further illustrated in the four chests of the play, the three of Portia’s father and the one of Shylock. Paradoxically, there is gold at Belmont, where there is only good—yet Shylock, the quintessential Venetian choked by worldliness, passionately desires gold. How can Belmont’s gold differ from Shylock’s? Gold is gold, regardless of who owns it.

The solution to this difficulty is that the chests differ not in their nature, but in their employment. Portia’s father uses the gold to protect his daughter and estate from immoral people, allowing only the man who chooses commonplace lead over worldly gold to claim Belmont and its mistress. By contrast, Shylock hoards his wealth for himself, even begrudging his own daughter money. The chests of Belmont are morally neutral objects used unselfishly for others’ benefit; the chest of Shylock³ is also a neutral object, but used to satisfy the passions of its owner. In short, the chests epitomize the dissimilarity between Belmont and Venice.

The varying uses of the chests speak to the personalities of the men who own them, namely, Portia’s father and Shylock, for “by their fruits you shall know them” (Mt. 7:20). The men are both wealthy; neither needs the contents of the chests. Nevertheless, Shylock prefers to keep his material possessions, needed or not, for himself. When Jessica leaves him, his primary concern is for the money she stole: “A diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankford….Two thousand ducats in that, and other precious, precious jewels. I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear” (Shakespeare 59). Shylock exemplifies the ultimate corruption of human reason: placing inanimate objects before souls. The great philosopher St. Severinus Boethius might remark that Shylock is reduced to the condition of an animal which, having lost the reason that defines human beings, retains only the appearance of a man.⁴

Nevertheless, the villain’s tragic condition stands in contrast to the dignity of Portia’s father, rendering that gentleman all the more honorable. Rather than clinging to his wealth, Portia’s father uses the gold and silver, as well as lead, to ensure that only the worthiest man will become lord of Belmont and husband of Belmont’s lady. With this prudent action in mind, Nerissa reminds Portia, “Your father was ever virtuous…therefore the lott’ry that he hath devis’d in these three chests…whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be chosen by any rightly but one who [sic] you shall rightly love” (Shakespeare 13). Clearly, Portia’s father understands the nature of wealth and requires that the winner of his challenge similarly comprehend the dangers of money. Just as Portia is a type of the Blessed Mother, her father exemplifies the wisdom of the Heavenly Father by his choice to dispose of his wealth this way. In virtue, likeability, and every other aspect, he far surpasses Shylock, the man trapped in his lust for pleasure and money.

Shakespeare describes Venice and Belmont as worlds diametrically opposed in ideals, portrays the latter as the happier world, and includes figures of God and Mary at Belmont. Could his intent be clearer? Subtly yet unmistakably, he promotes devotion to the Blessed Virgin, “handmaid of the Lord,” a uniquely Catholic devotion that few heretics will tolerate. Through the Merchant of Venice, the bard proclaims the glory of Catholicism to a country attempting to destroy the Church. In a world where genuine Catholicism is as unacceptable as it was in sixteenth-century England, let Shakespeare’s message continue to ring loud and clear: whatever the world may say, the Church will always be the one glorious institution of which Christ is the Head and Our Lady is the heart.

Notes
1. James I of England was also James VI of Scotland and the son of the famed Catholic monarch Mary, Queen of Scots. Hopes that Mary’s son would be leniently disposed towards Catholics proved unreasonable, as James had been separated from his mother as a baby and had grown up in a Scottish court burning with radical Calvinism (Carroll 481).
2. It is worthy of note that Portia’s name means “Gate,” possibly reflecting the Blessed Mother’s title of Gate of Heaven (Berube).
3. Interestingly, Shylock’s name may derive from the shalach, the Hebrew term for a cormorant. This bird is particularly known for its insatiable appetite (Berube).
4. Boethius discusses the inhumanness of sinners in his masterpiece, the Consolation of Philosophy. See pages 94 – 96 of Penguin Books’ 1999 edition, translated by Victor Watts.

Works Consulted
Berube, Keith. “The Merchant of Venice.” Sept. 2016.
Carroll, Warren H. The Cleaving of Christendom. Christendom Press, 2000.
Shakespeare, William. The Merchant of Venice. Edited by Joseph Pearce, San Francisco, CA,
Ignatius Press, 2009.
The Holy Bible: Douay-Rheims Version. Charlotte, NC, Saint Benedict Press, 2009.