there where merchants most do congregate
On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift,
Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe
If I forgive him!
Bass.
Shylock, do you hear?
Shy.
I am debating of my present store,
And by the near guess of my memory,
I cannot instantly raise up the gross
Of full three thousand ducats. What of that?
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
Will furnish me. But soft, how many months
Do you desire?
[To Antonio.]
Rest you fair, good signior,
Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
Ant.
Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking nor by giving of excess,
Yet to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
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
