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What shall 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
Ill 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 may'st 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 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 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.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Flourish of Cornets.

Enter the Prince of Morocco, and his Train; PORTIA,
NERISSA, and other of her Attendants.

Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadowed livery of the burnished 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 aspéct of mine
Hath feared the valiant; by my love, I swear,
The best regarded virgins of our clime

Have loved it too. I would not change this hue,
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes.
Besides, the lottery of my destiny

Bars me the right of voluntary choosing.

But, if my father had not scanted me,
And hedged 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 looked on yet,

For my affection.

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Mor.
Even for that I thank you;
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets,
To try my fortune. By this cimeter,-
That slew the sophy, and a Persian prince,
That won three fields of sultan Solyman,-
I would outstare 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 he 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 hand.
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.

Por.

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 advised.

Mor. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my chance. Por. First, forward to the temple; after dinner,

Your hazard shall be made.

Mor.
Good fortune then!
To make me blest, or cursed'st among men.

SCENE II. Venice. A Street.

Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO.

[Cornets.

[Exeunt.

Laun. 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 ruled 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.

Gob. Master, young man, you, I pray you; which is the way to master Jew's?

Laun. [Aside.] O Heavens, this is my true begotten father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not.-I will try conclusions with him.

Gob. Master, young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's?

Laun. Turn up on your right hand, at the next turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house.

Gob. By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him, or no?

Laun. Talk you of young master Launcelot ? — Mark me now; [Aside.] now will I raise the waters. — Talk you of young master Launcelot?

-

Gob. No master, sir, but a poor man's son. His father, though I say it, is an honest, exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young master Launcelot.

Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.

Laun. But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you; talk you of young master Launcelot ?

Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. Laun. Ergo, master Launcelot; talk not of master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman (according to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters three, and such branches of learning) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would say, in plain terms, gone to heaven.

Gob. Marry, God forbid! The boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop.

Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a staff, or a prop? Do you know me, father?

Gob. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman; but I pray you, tell me, is my boy (God rest his soul!) alive, or dead?

Laun. Do you not know me, father?

Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not.

Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me. It is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son. Give me your blessing; truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's son may; but, in the end, truth will out.

Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up; I am sure you are not Launcelot, my boy.

Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be.

Gob. I cannot think you are my son.

Laun. I know not what I shall think of that; but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man; and, I am sure, Margery, your wife, is my mother.

Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed. I'll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipped might he be! What a beard hast thou got! Thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin, my thill-horse, has on his tail.

Laun. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am sure he had more hair on his tail, than I have on my face, when I last saw him.

Gob. Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present. How 'gree you now?

Laun. Well, well; but for mine own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground. My master's a very Jew. Give him a present! Give him a halter! I am famished in his service: you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I VOL. I.- 34

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