II.-MERCY.

(SHAKSPERE.)

THE quality of mercy is not strained;
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blessed;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings.
It is an attribute to God himself;

And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, man,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,-
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation. We do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.

III.-HAMLET ON DEATH.

(SHAKSPERE.)

To be, or not to be, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And, by opposing, end them?-To die-to sleep-
No more; and, by a sleep, to say we end
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural shocks
That flesh is heir to-'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die-to sleep-

To sleep!-perchance to dream-ay, there's the rub.—
For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause.-There's the respect
That makes calamity of so long life:

For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death
(That undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns), puzzles the will,

And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all:
And thus the native hue of resolution

Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.

IV.-SHYLOCK, BASSANIO, AND ANTONIO.

(SHAKSPERE.)

Shy. THREE thousand ducats,—well.

Bass. Ay, sir, for three months.

Shy. For three months,-well.

Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.

Shy. Antonio shall become bound,—well.

Bass. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your answer?

Shy. Three thousand ducats, for three months, and Antonio bound.

Bass. Your answer to that.

Shy. Antonio is a good man.

Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary? Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no. My meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me that he is sufficient. Yet his means are in supposition. He hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England; and other ventures he hath squandered abroad. But ships are but boards; sailors, but men. There be land rats and water rats, land thieves and water thieves; I mean pirates: and then there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient:-three thousand ducats;-I think I may take his

bond.

Bass. Be assured you may.

Shy. I will be assured I may; and, that I may be assured, I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio?

Bass. If it please you to dine with us.

Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into. I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you.-What news on the Rialto?-Who is he comes here? [Enter Antonio.

Bass. This is Signior Antonio.

Shy. [Aside.] How like a fawning publican he looks!

I hate him, for he is a Christian:

But more, for that in low simplicity

He lends out money gratis, and brings down

The rate of usance here with us in Venice.

If I can catch him once upon the hip,

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
Even 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 on 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?-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 :-Is he yet possessed,
How much you would?

Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.

Ant. And for three months.

Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told me so. Well then, your bond; and, let me see.--But hear you : Methought you said, you neither lend nor borrow Upon advantage.

Ant. I do never use it.

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 beholden to you?
Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft,
On the Rialto, you have rated me

About my monies 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 gabardine;
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,

66

'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
Over your threshold: monies 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 this much monies?"

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 monies; 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;

And say, there is much kindness in the Jew.

Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me.

I'd 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 teach them to suspect The thoughts of others!-'Pray you, tell me this: If he should break his day, what should I gain