William Shakespeare : Complete Collection (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry...). William Shakespeare

pray thee, let it serve for table-talk;

      Then howsome’er thou speak’st, ’mong other things

      I shall disgest it.

       Jes.

      Well, I’ll set you forth.

       Exeunt.

       ¶

      ACT IV

      [Scene I]

       Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Antonio, Bassanio, [Salerio,] and Gratiano [with others]

       Duke.

      What, is Antonio here?

       Ant.

      Ready, so please your Grace.

       Duke.

      I am sorry for thee. Thou art come to answer

      A stony adversary, an inhuman wretch,

      Uncapable of pity, void and empty

      From any dram of mercy.

       Ant.

      I have heard

      Your Grace hath ta’en great pains to qualify

      His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate,

      And that no lawful means can carry me

      Out of his envy’s reach, I do oppose

      My patience to his fury, and am arm’d

      To suffer, with a quietness of spirit,

      The very tyranny and rage of his.

       Duke.

      Go one, and call the Jew into the court.

       Sal.

      He is ready at the door; he comes, my lord.

       Enter Shylock.

       Duke.

      Make room, and let him stand before our face.

      Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,

      That thou but leadest this fashion of thy malice

      To the last hour of act, and then ’tis thought

      Thou’lt show thy mercy and remorse more strange

      Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;

      And where thou now exacts the penalty,

      Which is a pound of this poor merchant’s flesh,

      Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,

      But touch’d with humane gentleness and love,

      Forgive a moi’ty of the principal,

      Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,

      That have of late so huddled on his back,

      Enow to press a royal merchant down,

      And pluck commiseration of [his state]

      From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flints,

      From stubborn Turks, and Tartars never train’d

      To offices of tender courtesy.

      We all expect a gentle answer, Jew!

       Shy.

      I have possess’d your Grace of what I purpose,

      And by our holy Sabaoth have I sworn

      To have the due and forfeit of my bond.

      If you deny it, let the danger light

      Upon your charter and your city’s freedom!

      You’ll ask me why I rather choose to have

      A weight of carrion flesh than to receive

      Three thousand ducats. I’ll not answer that;

      But say it is my humor, is it answer’d?

      What if my house be troubled with a rat,

      And I be pleas’d to give ten thousand ducats

      To have it ban’d? What, are you answer’d yet?

      Some men there are love not a gaping pig;

      Some that are mad if they behold a cat;

      And others, when the bagpipe sings i’ th’ nose,

      Cannot contain their urine: for affection,

      [Mistress] of passion, sways it to the mood

      Of what it likes or loathes. Now for your answer:

      As there is no firm reason to be rend’red

      Why he cannot abide a gaping pig;

      Why he, a harmless necessary cat;

      Why he, a woollen bagpipe, but of force

      Must yield to such inevitable shame

      As to offend, himself being offended;

      So can I give no reason, nor I will not,

      More than a lodg’d hate and a certain loathing

      I bear Antonio, that I follow thus

      A losing suit against him. Are you answered?

       Bass.

      This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,

      To excuse the current of thy cruelty.

       Shy.

      I am not bound to please thee with my answers.

       Bass.

      Do all men kill the things they do not love?

       Shy.

      Hates any man the thing he would not kill?

       Bass.

      Every offense is not a hate at first.

       Shy.

      What, wouldst thou have a serpent sting thee twice?

       Ant.

      I pray you think you question with the Jew:

      You may as well go stand upon the beach

      And bid the main flood bate his usual height;

      You may as well use question with the wolf

      Why he hath made the ewe bleak for the lamb;

      You may as well forbid the mountain pines

      To wag their high tops, and to make no noise

      When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven;

      You may as well do any thing most hard

      As seek to soften that—than which what’s harder?—

      His Jewish heart! Therefore I do beseech you

      Make no moe offers, use no farther means,

      But with all brief and plain conveniency

      Let me have judgment and the Jew his will.

       Bass.

      For thy three thousand ducats here is six.

       Shy.