Array The griffin classics - William Shakespeare - Complete Collection

I’ll break a custom.

[To Bassanio.]

Is he yet possess’d

How much ye would?

Shy.

Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.

Ant.

And for three months.

Shy.

I had forgot—three months—

[to Bassanio]

you told me so.

Well then, your bond; and let me see—but hear you,

Methoughts you said you neither lend nor borrow

Upon advantage.

Ant.

I do never use it.

Shy.

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—

Ant.

And what of him? did he take interest?

Shy.

No, not take interest, not as you would say

Directly int’rest. Mark what Jacob did:

When Laban and himself were compremis’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 skillful 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-color’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.

Ant.

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?

Shy.

I cannot tell, I make it breed as fast.

But note me, signior.

Ant.

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!

Shy.

Three thousand ducats—’tis a good round sum.

Three months from twelve; then let me see, the rate—

Ant.

Well, Shylock, shall we be beholding to you?

Shy.

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 spet 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 spet 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”?

Ant.

I am as like to call thee so again,

To spet 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.

Shy.

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.

Bass.

This were kindness.

Shy.

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.

Ant.

Content, in faith, I’ll seal to such a bond,

And say there is much kindness in the Jew.

Bass.

You shall not seal to such a bond for me,

I’ll rather dwell in my necessity.

Ant.

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.

Shy.

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 favor, I extend this friendship.

If he will take it, so, if not, adieu;

And for my love I pray you wrong me not.

Ant.

Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.

Shy.

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.

Exit.

Ant.

Hie thee, gentle Jew.

The Hebrew will turn Christian, he grows kind.

Bass.

I like not fair terms and a villain’s mind.

Ant.

Come on, in this there can be no dismay,

My ships come home a month before the day.

Exeunt.

¶

[Flourish cornets.] Enter [the Prince of] Morocco, a tawny Moor, all in white, and three or four Followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerissa, and their Train.

Mor.

Mislike me not for my complexion,

The shadowed livery of the burnish’d sun,

To whom I am a neighbor 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.

Por.

In terms of choice I am not soly 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.

Mor.

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,