Usurer!
"If a man is righteous, and does what is lawful and right,
"if he has not exacted usury nor taken any increase
"but has withdrawn his hand from all iniquity
"and executed true judgment between men and men,
"if he has walked in my statutes
"and kept my judgment faithfully, then he is just and he shall surely live.
"But if he has exacted usury and taken increase,
"shall he then live?
"No, he shall not live. If he has done any of these abominations... "
"... he shall surely die, says the Lord. "
And yet you live by theft and robbery...
Antonio.
Bassanio.
Wind's coming back, sir.
Signior Lorenzo.
Jessica.
In truth, I know not why I am so sad.
It wearies me. You say it wearies you.
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me that I have much ado than know myself.
Your mind is tossing on the ocean.
Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
the better part of my affection would be with my hopes abroad.
I should be still plucking the grass to know where sits the wind,
peering in maps for ports and piers and roads.
And every object that might make me fear misfortune to my ventures
out of doubt would make me sad.
My wind, cooling my broth,
would blow me to a fever if I thought what harm a wind too great might do at sea.
Believe me, no.
Why, then you're in love.
Fie, fie, fie!
Not in love either?
Then let us say you are sad
because you are not merry.
Here comes my lord Bassanio.
- Good morrow, my good lord. - Good signiors. When shall we laugh?
We shall make our leisures to fit in with yours.
- Bassanio. - Signior.
My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, we too will leave you.
You look not well, Signior Antonio.
You have too much respect upon the world.
They lose it that do buy it with much care.
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano -
a stage where every man must play his part, and mine a sad one.
Come, good Lorenzo.
Fare thee well awhile. I'll end my exhortation after dinner.
Fare thee well.
Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing,
more than any man in all of Venice.
Well?
Tell me now...
that which today you promised to tell me of.
'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, how much I have disabled mine estate,
but my chief care is to come squarely out of the great debts
wherein my youth, something too prodigal,
has left me pledged.
To you, Antonio, I owe the most in money and in love,
and from your love I have a warranty to unburden all my plots and purposes
how to get clear of all the debts I owe.
Pray, good Bassanio, let me know it.
And, if it stand, as you yourself still do, within the eye of honour,
be assured my purse, my person, my extremest means
lie all unlocked to your occasion.
In Belmont is a lady richly left -
and she is fair, and fairer than that word -
of wondrous virtues.
Sometimes, from her eyes I did receive fair...
speechless messages.
Her name is Portia, no less a beauty than Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
for the four winds blow in from every coast renowned suitors.
O my Antonio,
had I but the means to hold a rival place with one of them
then I should questionless be fortunate.
Thou knowest my fortunes are at sea.
Neither have I money nor commodity to raise a present sum.
Therefore, go forth.
Try what my credit can in Venice do.
It shall be racked, even to the uttermost, to furnish you to Belmont,
and fair Portia.
I swear to you, Nerissa,
- I am more weary of this great world. - You would be, sweet madam,
if your miseries were as plentiful as your good fortunes are.
And yet, from what I see,
they are as sick that have it in excess as those that starve with nothing.
If doing were as easy as knowing what were good to do,
chapels had been churches,
and poor men's cottages princes' palaces.
But this reasoning is not in the way to choose me a husband.
O me, the word "choose"!
I may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I dislike.
So is the will of a living daughter ruled by a dead father.
Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one nor refuse none?
Your father was always virtuous,
and holy men, at their death, have good inspirations.
Therefore the lottery, that he devised
in these three chests of gold and silver and lead,
so that who chooses his meaning chooses you,
will no doubt only be guessed, rightly, by someone who you shall rightly love.
Right.
What warmth is there in your affection
towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?
Pray name them, and as you name them I will describe them,
and, according to my description, level at my affection.
How say you of the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon?
Oh, God.
God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man.
I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he...!
What say you to Falconbridge, the young baron of England?
How oddly he's suited!
And the Duke of Saxony's nephew?
Very vilely in the morning when he is sober,
and most vilely in the afternoon when he is drunk.
O Nerissa!
Wait! Wait.
If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket,
you should refuse to perform your father's will if you should refuse to accept him.
Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee,
set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket.
I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge.
Three thousand ducats.
Well.
Ay, sir, for three months.
For three months?
- Well... - For which, as I told you,
Antonio shall be bound.
Antonio shall be bound?
Well...
May you help me? Will you pleasure me?
Should I know your answer?
Three thousand ducats for three months,
and Antonio bound.
Your answer to that.
Antonio is a good man.
Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?
No. No, no, no, no. My meaning in saying that he is a good man
is to have you understand that he is of good credit.
Yet his means are in question.
He hath a ship bound for Tripolis, another to the Indies.
I understand moreover, upon the Rialto, he hath a third ship at Mexico,
a fourth for England,
and other ventures he hath squandered abroad.
But ships are but boards,
sailors are but men,
there be land rats and water rats,
water thieves and land thieves.
I mean pirates.
Then there is the peril of waters, winds and rocks.
The man is, notwithstanding, of good credit.
Three thousand ducats.
I think I may take his bond.
- Be assured you may. - May I speak with Antonio?
If it please you, dine with us.
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, walk with you, talk with you, and so following,
but I will not eat with you, nor drink with you,
nor pray with you.
Who is he comes here?
This is Signior Antonio. Antonio!
Antonio.
How like a fawning publican he looks.
Shylock! Shylock, do you hear?
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.
But Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, will furnish me.
Benjamin. Go, seek out Tubal.
But soft, how many months?
Rest you fair, good signior.
Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
- Is he possessed how much you would? - Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
And for three months.
Ah, I forgot. Three months, you told me so.
But soft, erm... me thought you said you neither lend nor borrow with interest.
- I do never use it. - Well.
Three thousand ducats, 'tis a good round sum.
Launcelot.
The rates.
Three months... from twelve.
Let me see the rate.
Well, Shylock,
shall we be beholden to you?
Signior Antonio...
many a time, and oft in the Rialto,
you have reviled me about my moneys and my usances.
Still, I have 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 gaberdine.
And all for use of that which is my own.
Well, it now appears you need my help.
You come to me and you say, "Shylock, we would have money. "
You say so. You, that did void your rheum upon my beard
and kick me as you spurn a stranger cur over your threshold.
Money 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 slavish voice, with bated breath and whispering humbleness say this -
"Fair sir, you spat on me on Wednesday last,
"you spurned me such a day, another time you called me dog.
"For these courtesies, I'll lend you thus much moneys. "
I'm as like to call you so again, to spit on you again, to spurn you too.
If you would lend this money, lend it not unto your friends.
For when did friendship take a breed for barren metal from his friends?
Lend it rather to your enemy who, if he break,
you may with better face exact the penalty.
Why, look how you storm. I would be friends with you
and have your love.
Forget the stains that you have shamed me with.
Supply your present wants, and take not a drop of interest for my moneys...
...and you'll not hear me.
This is kind I offer.
- This is kindness. - No...
This kindness I will show.
Go with me to a notary
and 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 a 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.
Content, i'faith.
I'll seal to such a bond,
and say there is much kindness in the Jew.
You shall not seal such a bond for me. I'd rather live in my necessity.
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.
O father Abraham, what these Christians are,
whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect the thoughts of others.
I pray you, tell me this.
If he should break his day, what should I gain by the exaction of the forfeiture?
A pound of a 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 favour, I extend this friendship.
If he will take it, so. If not, adieu.
And, for my love, I pray you, wrong me not.
Shylock...
I will seal unto this bond.
Dislike me not for my complexion,
the shadowed livery of the burnished sun, to whom I am a neighbour and near bred.
Yallah! Yallah!
Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
where the sun's 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 aspect of mine hath feared the valiant.
Yea, by my love I swear, the most regarded virgins of our clime have loved it too.
I would not change this hue, except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
In terms of choice, I am not solely led by nice direction of a maiden's eyes.
Instead, the lottery of my destiny bars me the right of voluntary choosing.
But if my father had not restrained me,
and hedged me by his wit to yield myself as wife
to him 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.
Even for that, I thank you.
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets to try my fortune.
Yes?
I pray you, Leonardo, these things being bought and orderly bestowed,
return in haste, for I do feast tonight my best esteemed acquaintance.
Let supper be ready at the latest by nine o'clock.
See that these letters are delivered.
And put the livery to the making.
Certainly my conscience would forbid me to run from this Jew, my master.
Ho!
I pray you, which way to the master Jew's?
Do you not know me, Father?
Lord, how art thou changed!
How dost thou and thy master agree? I brought him a present.
Famished in his service, Father. I'm glad you've come.
Give your present to one master Bassanio,
who indeed gives rare new liveries.
Si.
Bassanio!
- Gratiano. - I have a suit to you.
- You have obtained it. - You must not deny me -
I must go with you to Belmont.
Why, then you must. But hear thee, you are too wild, too rude, too bold of voice,
things that become you happily enough and in such eyes as ours appears not false.
But where you are not known, why, there they show something too... liberal.
Pray you, take pain to dilute with some cold drops of modesty your skipping spirit,
lest through your wild behaviour I be misconstrued in the place I go
and lose my hopes.
Signior Bassanio, hear me.
If I do not put on a sober habit, talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
look demurely, nay more, while grace is saying,
hood mine eyes thus with my hat
and sigh and say, "Amen," never trust me more.
Well, we shall see your bearing.
Oof!
Nay, but I bar tonight.
You shall not gauge me by what we do tonight.
God bless your worship.
Signior Bassanio.
Many thanks.
Would you something from me?
- Here is my son, sir, a poor boy. - Not a poor boy, sir,
but the rich Jew's man that would, sir,
as my father shall specify.
He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve.
Indeed, sir. The short and the long is,
I serve the Jew, and have a desire, as my father shall specify.
To be brief, the very truth is, as my father, being an old man, shall fruitify unto you...
I have here a dish of doves I would bestow upon your worship.
And my suit is...
In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself,
as your worship shall know by this honest old man.
And, though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father.
One speak for both. What would you?
- Serve you, sir. - That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
You have obtained your suit,
if it be preferment to leave a rich Jew's service
to become the follower of so poor a gentleman.
The old proverb is very well parted between my master Shylock and you, sir.
You have the grace of God, sir, and he has enough.
You speak it well. Give him a livery more guarded than his fellows'. See it done.
I'm sorry you will leave my father so.
Our house is hell, and you, a merry devil, did rob it of some taste of tediousness.
And Launcelot, soon at supper shall you see Lorenzo,
who is thy new master's guest.
Give him this letter.
Do it secretly.
And so farewell.
I would not have my father see me talk with thee.
Adieu.
Tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew.
O Lorenzo, if thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
becoming Christian and your loving wife.
Jessica?
Well.
You will see, your eyes will be the judge,
the difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.
You will not gourmandise with him, as you have done with me,
nor sleep and snore and wear apparel out.
Not with him.
- Jessica, I say! - Why, Jessica.
Who bids you call?
I do not bid you call.
Your worship was used to say I could do nothing without bidding.
Oh.
Call you?
- What's your will? - I am bid forth to supper, Jessica.
There are my keys.
Wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love.
Oh, they flatter me.
Yet I will go and feed upon the prodigal Christian.
Jessica, my girl, look to my house.
Oh, I am right loath to go.
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
for I did dream of money bags tonight.
I beseech you, sir, go.
My young master expects your reproach.
And so do I his.
And they have conspired together.
I will not say you shall see a masque,
but if you do, it was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding
on Black Monday last at six o'clock in the morning.
What, are there masques?
Hear you me, Jessica,
clamber not you up to the casements then,
nor thrust your head into the public street
to gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces.
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter my sober house.
Oh, by Jacob's staff, I swear I have no mind of feasting forth tonight.
But I will go.
Go you before, sirrah. Say I will come.
I will go before, sir.
Mistress, look out the window for all this.
There will come a Christian boy will be worth a Jewess' eye.
What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?
His words were, "Farewell, mistress. " Nothing else.
The fool is kind enough
but a huge feeder.
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day more than a tomcat.
Therefore, I part with him.
Well, Jessica, go in. Perhaps I will return immediately.
Do as I bid you.
Farewell. And if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost.
How do I know if I do choose the right?
The one of them contains my picture, Prince.
If you choose that, then I am yours withal.
Some god direct my judgment!
Let me see.
"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath. "
- Hmm... - Must give? For what?
For lead? Hazard for lead?
This casket, my friends, threatens.
Men who hazard all do it in hope of fair advantages.
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross, eh?
I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead, ah? Mm-mm.
What says the silver with her virgin hue?
"Who chooseth me...
"shall gain as much as he deserves. "
Pause there, Morocco,
and weigh thy value with an even hand, ha?
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
and in graces, and in qualities of breeding!
What if I stray no further but choose here?
Hmm...
"Who chooseth me...
"will gain what many men...
"desire. "
- Hmm... - Huh?
Why, that's the lady!
All of the world desires her!
From the four corners of the earth, they come to kiss this shrine,
this mortal-breathing saint.
Deliver me the key. Here do I choose, and thrive as I may.
There, take it, Prince.
And if my form lie there, I am yours.
Ha!
O hell.
What have we here?
"All that glistens is not gold.
"Often have you heard that told.
"Gilded tombs do worms enfold.
"Fare you well...
"but your suit is cold. "
For all of my fortune, Shylock, I give thanks.
To best-esteemed acquaintances.
Antonio, good health.
I know the hand. In faith, it is a fair hand,
and whiter than the paper it writ on is the fair hand that writ.
Love-news, in faith.
Meet me tonight.
This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo desired us to make stand?
His hour is almost past.
And it is a marvel he outstays his hour for lovers always run before the clock.
That ever holds.
Who rises from a feast with that keen appetite that he sits down?
Sweet friends, your patience for my long delay.
Ho! Who's within?
Who are you?
Tell me for more certainty, albeit I swear that I do know your tongue.
Lorenzo and thy love.
Lorenzo, certain, and my love indeed,
for who I love so much?
And now who knows but you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.
Here! Catch this casket.
No!
It is worth the pains.
I'm glad 'tis night. You do not look on me for I am much ashamed of my disguise.
But love is blind and lovers cannot see the pretty follies that themselves commit.
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
to see me thus transformed into a boy.
Descend, for you must be my torchbearer.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love, and I should be obscured.
So are you, sweet, even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once, for the close night doth play the runaway.
I will gild myself with some more ducats and be with you straight.
Contend me, but I love her, heartily.
For she is wise, if I can judge of her,
and fair, she is, if that mine eyes be true
and true she is, as she hath proved herself.
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair and true,
shall she be placed in my constant soul.
No!
Who's there?
- Signior Antonio! - Fie, fie, Gratiano.
'Tis ten o'clock, our friends all wait for you.
No masque tonight.
The wind has come about, Bassanio soon will come aboard.
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
Jessica!
I will make some speed of my return.
Hurry not business for my sake, but stay the very riping of the time.
And for the Jew's bond that he has of thee, let it not enter your mind of love.
- Leva i remi. - Rema.
Avanti!
Be merry and employ your chiefest thoughts to courtship,
such fair displays of love as may conveniently become you there.
Tira!
Oh... ehi! Oh... ehi!
No!
No, no.
Jessica!
No.
{Y:i}I never heard a passion so confused,
{Y:i}so strange, outrageous and so variable
{Y:i}as the dog Jew did utter in the streets.
{Y:i}"My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!"
The villain Jew with outcries raised the Duke
who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.
He came too late, the ship was under sail.
Let good Antonio look he keep his day or he shall pay for this.
Marry, well remembered.
I reasoned with a Frenchman yesterday
who told me, in the narrow seas that part the French and English
there miscarried a vessel of our country richly fraught.
I thought upon Antonio when he told me and wished in silence that it were not his.
Madam! Madam!
Madam!
Oh... Madam!
Quick! Quick!
I pray you, the Prince of Aragon hath taken his oath
and comes to his election presently.
¡Música!
"Who chooses me must give and hazard all he has. "
You shall look fairer ere I give or hazard.
What says the golden chest?
Ha! Let me see.
"Who chooses me shall gain what many men desire. "
I will not choose what many men desire
because I will not jump with common spirits
and rank me with the barbarous multitude.
"Who chooses me
"shall get as much as he deserves. "
And well said, too.
I will assume desert.
Give me a key for this
and instantly unlock my fortunes here.
Too long a pause for that which you find there.
What's here?
The portrait of a blinking idiot presenting me a schedule?
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize?
Are my deserts no better?
To offend and judge are distinct offices and of opposed natures.
With one fool's head
I came to woo.
But I go away with two.
Antonio's ship is wrecked, gone down with all hands,
all merchandise lost.
Come on up! Come on up.
Who is that there?
- Jew! - The Jew! Hey!
Take some pleasure with us!
Taste my Christian flesh!
- What news on the Rialto? - Why, yet it lives there unchecked
that Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wrecked on the narrow seas -
the Goodwins, I think they call the place, a very dangerous flat and fatal -
where the carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried.
What say you?
I would it might prove the end of his losses.
How now, Shylock?
What news amongst the merchants?
You knew of my daughter's flight.
None so well.
None so well as you.
And Shylock for his own part knew the bird was fledged
and then it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam.
She be damned for it.
Tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had any loss at sea or no?
Let him look to his bond.
He was wont to call me usurer. Let him look to his bond.
He was wont to lend money for Christian courtesy.
Let him look to his bond.
Hello, Jew!
I'm sure if he forfeit you'll not take his flesh. What's that good for?
To bait fish withal.
If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge.
He hath disgraced me
and hindered me 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 us, 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 that.
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 villainy you teach me I will execute.
And it shall go hard but I will better the instruction.
Antonio is at his house. We should speak with him.
How now, Tubal?
What news from Genoa?
- Have you found my daughter? - I often came where I did hear of her
but cannot find her.
Why...
there, there, there.
A diamond gone.
Cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfurt.
The curse never fell upon our nation till now.
I never felt it.
Till now.
I would my daughter were dead at my foot
and the jewel in her ear.
No news of them?
Loss upon loss.
The thief gone with so much and so much to find the thief.
And no satisfaction, no revenge,
no luck stirring
but what lights on my shoulders.
No sighs
but of my breathing.
No tears but of my shedding.
Yes, other men have ill luck, too.
Antonio, as I heard in Genoa.
What?
What, what? llI luck?
There's a ship, wrecked, coming from Tripolis.
Oh, I thank God.
I thank God.
Oh!
Heard you in Genoa what?
Your daughter spent in Genoa,
as I heard,
one night, four score ducats.
Oh, you stick a dagger in me.
I shall never see my gold again.
Four score ducats!
At a sitting!
Four score ducats!
There came various of Antonio's creditors in my company to Venice
- that swear he cannot choose but break. - I am very glad of it.
I'll plague him.
I'll torture him. I am glad of it.
One of them showed me a ring he had of your daughter
for a monkey.
{Y:i}How dare her!
Tubal, you torture me.
It was my turquoise.
I had it of Leah, her mother, when I was a bachelor.
I would not have given it away for a wilderness of monkeys.
But Antonio is certainly undone.
That is true.
Tubal, go, find me an officer.
Bespeak him a fortnight before.
I will have Antonio's heart if he forfeit.
Go, go, Tubal - at our synagogue, good Tubal.
Oh... ehi!
Madam!
There is alighted at your gate a young Venetian,
one who comes to signify the approaching of his lord.
I have not seen so likely an ambassador of love!
A day in April never came so sweet to show how costly summer was at hand
as this... oh! Forerunner comes before his lord.
No more, I pray you. I'm half afraid you will say anon he is some kin to you,
you spin such high-day wit in praising him.
Come. Come, Nerissa,
for I long to see quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly.
Bassanio, lord Love, if your will it be.
There's something tells me, but it is not love.
I would not lose you.
And yourself knows hate counsels not in such a quality.
{Y:i}I would detain you here a month or two before you venture for me.
I could teach you how to choose right
but then I'd break my oath.
That will I never do.
So may you miss me
and if you do, you make me wish that sin that I had broke my oath.
{Y:i}Contend me with your eyes
{Y:i}for they have o'erlooked me and divided me.
One half of me is yours, the other half yours, mine own, I would say,
but if mine, then yours and so...
all yours.
Let me choose, for as I am, I live upon the rack.
Upon the rack, Bassanio?
Then confess what treason there is mingled with your love.
None but that ugly treason of mistrust
which makes me fear the enjoying of my love.
Ay but I fear you speak upon the rack,
when men enforced do speak anything.
Promise me life
and I'll confess the truth.
Well, then,
confess and live.
Confess and love has been the very sum of my confession.
But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
Away, then.
I am locked in one of them.
Tell me where is fancy bred
Or in the heart or in the head?
How begot
How nourished
Reply
Reply...
So may the outward shows be least themselves.
The world is still deceived with ornament.
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
but being seasoned with a gracious voice obscures the show of evil?
In religion,
what damned error but some sober brow will bless it
and approve it with a text,
hiding the grossness with fair... ornament?
Look on beauty
and you shall see
'tis purchased
by the weight.
Therefore, thou gaudy gold, I will none of you.
Nor none of you, O pale and common drudge between man and man.
But you, O meagre lead,
which rather threatenest than dost promise aught,
your paleness moves me more...
than eloquence.
Here choose I.
Joy be the consequence.
O love, be moderate, allay your ecstasy,
I feel too much your blessing - make it less for fear I surfeit.
What find I here?
Fair Portia's counterfeit.
Oh, what demi-goddess comes so near creation?
Move these eyes?