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 sufferance 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 whispering humbleness,
Say this,-

Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurned me such a day; another time
You called me-dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much moneys.

Ant. 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.

Shy. Why, look you, how you storm!

I would be friends with you, and have your love, Forget the shames that you have stained 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.

Ant. 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
Expressed 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 Abraham, 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.

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 will be with you.

[Exit.

Ant. Hie thee, gentle Jew.

This 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.

Merchant of Venice, Act 1. Scene 3.

34*

OTHELLO, THE MOOR, ACCUSED BY BRABANTIO, OF HAVING WON HIS DAUGHTER, DESDEMONA, BY LOVE-POTIONS AND WITCHCRAFT, MAKES HIS DEFENCE BEFORE THE DUKE AND SENATORS OF VENICE, AND TELLS THE STORY OF HIS

COURTSHIP.

Othello. Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, My very noble and approv'd good masters, That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, It is most true; true, I have married her: The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech And little bless'd with the set phrase of peace; For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, Till now, some nine moons wasted, they have us'd Their dearest action in the tented field; And little of this great world can I speak More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; And, therefore, little shall I grace my cause,

In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience,

I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms,

What conjuration, and what mighty magic,

(For such proceeding I am charg'd withal) I won his daughter.

Brabantio.

A maiden never bold;

Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blush'd at herself; and she,-in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, every thing,—
To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on!
It is a judgment maim'd, and most imperfect,
That will confess, perfection so could err
Against all rules of nature; and must be driven
To find out practices of cunning hell,

Why this should be. I, therefore, vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
Or with some dram conjur'd to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Duke.

To vouch this is no proof:
Without more wider and more overt test,
These are thin habits, and poor likelihoods
Of modern seeming, you prefer against him.
1st Senator.
But, Othello, speak:

Did you by indirect and forced courses

Subdue and poison this young maid's affections?
Or came it by request, and such fair question
As soul to soul affordeth ?

Othello.

I do beseech you,

Send for the lady to the Sagittary,

And let her speak of me before her father:
If you do find me foul in her report,

The trust, the office, I do hold. of you,
Not only take away, but let your sentence
Even fall upon my life.