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ANTONIO. I do never use it.

SHYLOCK. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep-
This Jacob from our holy Abram was,

As his wise mother wrought in his behalf,
The third possessor; ay, he was the third-

ANTONIO. And what of him? Did he take interest?
SHYLOCK. No, not take interest; not, as you would say,

Directly int'rest; mark what Jacob did:
When Laban and himself were compromis'd

That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied
Should fall as Jacob's hire, the ewes, being rank,

In end of autumn turned to the rams;
And when the work of generation was

Between these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilful shepherd pill'd me certain wands,

And, in the doing of the deed of kind,
He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes,

Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time
Fall parti-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's.

This was a way to thrive, and he was blest;
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.

ANTONIO. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for;
A thing not in his power to bring to pass,

But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heaven.
Was this inserted to make interest good?

Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
SHYLOCK. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast.

But note me, signior.
ANTONIO. [Aside] Mark you this, Bassanio,

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness

Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart.

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
SHYLOCK. Three thousand ducats- 'tis a good round sum.

Three months from twelve; then let me see, the rate-
ANTONIO. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?

SHYLOCK. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me

About my moneys and my usances;
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug,

For suff'rance is the badge of all our tribe;
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog,

And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.

Well then, it now appears you need my help;
Go to, then; you come to me, and you say

'Shylock, we would have moneys.' You say so-
You that did void your rheum upon my beard

And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; moneys is your suit.

What should I say to you? Should I not say
'Hath a dog money? Is it possible

A cur can lend three thousand ducats?' Or
Shall I bend low and, in a bondman's key,

With bated breath and whisp'ring humbleness,
Say this:

'Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last,
You spurn'd me such a day; another time

You call'd me dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much moneys'?

ANTONIO. I am as like to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.

If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friends- for when did friendship take

A breed for barren metal of his friend?-
But lend it rather to thine enemy,

Who if he break thou mayst with better face
Exact the penalty.

SHYLOCK. Why, look you, how you storm!
I would be friends with you, and have your love,

Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
Supply your present wants, and take no doit

Of usance for my moneys, and you'll not hear me.
This is kind I offer.

BASSANIO. This were kindness.
SHYLOCK. This kindness will I show.

Go with me to a notary, seal me there
Your single bond, and, in a merry sport,

If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum or sums as are

Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit
Be nominated for an equal pound

Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body pleaseth me.

ANTONIO. Content, in faith; I'll seal to such a bond,
And say there is much kindness in the Jew.

BASSANIO. You shall not seal to such a bond for me;
I'll rather dwell in my necessity.

ANTONIO. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it;
Within these two months- that's a month before

This bond expires- I do expect return
Of thrice three times the value of this bond.

SHYLOCK. O father Abram, what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect

The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this:
If he should break his day, what should I gain

By the exaction of the forfeiture?
A pound of man's flesh taken from a man

Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say,

To buy his favour, I extend this friendship;
If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;

And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not.
ANTONIO. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.

SHYLOCK. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;
Give him direction for this merry bond,

And I will go and purse the ducats straight,
See to my house, left in the fearful guard

Of an unthrifty knave, and presently
I'll be with you.

ANTONIO. Hie thee, gentle Jew. Exit SHYLOCK
The Hebrew will turn Christian: he grows kind.

BASSANIO. I like not fair terms and a villain's mind.
ANTONIO. Come on; in this there can be no dismay;

My ships come home a month before the day. Exeunt
ACT II. SCENE I.

Belmont. PORTIA'S house
Flourish of cornets. Enter the PRINCE of MOROCCO,

a tawny Moor all in white, and three or four FOLLOWERS
accordingly, with PORTIA, NERISSA, and train

PRINCE OF Morocco. Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadowed livery of the burnish'd sun,

To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred.
Bring me the fairest creature northward born,

Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
And let us make incision for your love

To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine

Hath fear'd the valiant; by my love, I swear
The best-regarded virgins of our clime

Have lov'd it too. I would not change this hue,
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.

PORTIA. In terms of choice I am not solely led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes;

Besides, the lott'ry of my destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing.

But, if my father had not scanted me,
And hedg'd me by his wit to yield myself

His wife who wins me by that means I told you,
Yourself, renowned Prince, then stood as fair

As any comer I have look'd on yet
For my affection.

PRINCE OF MOROCCO. Even for that I thank you.
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets

To try my fortune. By this scimitar,
That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince,

That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,
I would o'erstare the sternest eyes that look,

Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,

Yea, mock the lion when 'a roars for prey,
To win thee, lady. But, alas the while!

If Hercules and Lichas play at dice
Which is the better man, the greater throw

May turn by fortune from the weaker band.
So is Alcides beaten by his page;

And so may I, blind Fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,

And die with grieving.
PORTIA. You must take your chance,

And either not attempt to choose at all,
Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong,

Never to speak to lady afterward
In way of marriage; therefore be advis'd.

PRINCE OF MOROCCO. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my chance.
PORTIA. First, forward to the temple. After dinner

Your hazard shall be made.
PRINCE OF MOROCCO. Good fortune then,

To make me blest or cursed'st among men!
[Cornets, and exeunt]

SCENE II.
Venice. A street

Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO
LAUNCELOT. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this

Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow and tempts me, saying
to me 'Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot' or 'good Gobbo' or

'good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away.'
My conscience says 'No; take heed, honest Launcelot, take heed,

honest Gobbo' or, as aforesaid, 'honest Launcelot Gobbo, do not
run; scorn running with thy heels.' Well, the most courageous

fiend bids me pack. 'Via!' says the fiend; 'away!' says the
fiend. 'For the heavens, rouse up a brave mind' says the fiend

'and run.' Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my
heart, says very wisely to me 'My honest friend Launcelot, being

an honest man's son' or rather 'an honest woman's son'; for
indeed my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a

kind of taste- well, my conscience says 'Launcelot, budge not.'
'Budge,' says the fiend. 'Budge not,' says my conscience.

'Conscience,' say I, (you counsel well.' 'Fiend,' say I, 'you
counsel well.' To be rul'd by my conscience, I should stay with

the Jew my master, who- God bless the mark!- is a kind of devil;
and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend,

who- saving your reverence!- is the devil himself. Certainly the
Jew is the very devil incarnation; and, in my conscience, my

conscience is but a kind of hard conscience to offer to counsel
me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly

counsel. I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment; I
will run.

Enter OLD GOBBO, with a basket
GOBBO. Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to



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