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too much, as they that starve with nothing: it is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.
Speculation more easy than Practice.
If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree; such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple.
Shylock's Malice towards Antonio.
How like a fawning publican he looks!
He lends out money gratis, and brings down
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
On me, my bargains, and my well won thrift,
If I forgive him.
Cursed be my tribe,
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;
Shylock's remonstrance with Antonio.
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug;
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Shylock, we would have monies:" you say so; You that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur
A cur can lend three thousand ducats?" or
"Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last :
Shylock's injunctions to his Daughter.
Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
From the four corners of the earth they come, To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint. The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now, For princes to come view fair Portia : The watery kingdom* whose ambitious head Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar To stop the foreign spirits; but they come, As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.
The Parting of Friends.
I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:
And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me,
† Do not slur over the business. Signs, marks.
And with affection wondrous sensible,
Bassanio's hand, and so they parted.
Honour should be conferred on Merit only. For who shall go about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit! Let none presume
O, that estates, degrees, and offices,
Were not derived corruptly! and that clear honour
To be new varnish'd?
If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and hindered me of half a million; laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? if you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle u's, do we not laugh? if you poison us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in If a Jew wrong a Christian, what is his humility? revenge: If a Christian wrong a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example? why, revenge. The villany you teach me, I will execute: and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction.
Shylock's Anguish at the loss of his Jewels.
Why there, therc, there, there! a diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse never fell upon our nation till now; I never felt it till now :-two thousand ducats in that; and other precious, precious jewels. I would, my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear! 'would she were hears'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin! No news of them? Why, so :-and I know not what's spent in the search: Why, thou loss upon loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge: nor no ill luck stirring, but what lights o' my shoulders; no sighs, but o' my breathing; no tears, but o' my shedding.
Let music sound while he doth make his choice Then if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,
Fading in music; that the comparison
May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream,