« ПретходнаНастави »
Consciousness of our own Faults should make Jul. I do confess it, and repent, father. us merciful.
Duke. 'Tis meet so, daughter : but-lest Ang Why do you put these sayings upon me? you do repent
Isub. Because authority, though it err like As that the sin hath brought you to this shamo, Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself, (others, Which sorrow is always to ourselves, not That skims the vice o' the top: go to your
Showing we would not spare Heaven, as we Knock there; and ask your heart what it doth But as we stand in fear
[love it, know
Jul. I do repent me as it is an evil;
Duke. There rest.
When I would pray and think, I think and pray
To sev'ral subjects: Heav'n hath my empty Isab. Hark how I'll bribe you! Good my
words : Ang. How! bribe me? [Lord, turn back whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue, Isal. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold, Anchors on Isabel
. Heav'n's in my mouth, Or stones whose rate is either rich or poor As if I did but only chew his name; As faocy values them; but with true prayers, And in my heart the strong and swelling evil That shall be up at heaven, and enter there
Of my conception : the state whereon I studied, Ere the sun rise: prayers from preserved souls, Is like a good thing, being often read, From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate Grown fear'd and tedious; yea, my gravity, To nothing temporal.
Wherein (let no man hear me) I take pride, The Power of virtuous Beauty.
Could I with boot, change for an idle plume Isab. Sare your honour ! [Exit Isah. Which the air beats for vain. O place ! O Ang. From thee; even from thy virtue !
form! What's this? What's this? Is this her fault
, How often dost thou with thy case, thy habit, or mine?
[ha! Wrench awe from fools, and tie the wiser souls The tempter, or the tempted, who sins most? To thy false seeming! Blood, thou still art Not she; nor doth she tempt; but it is I,
blood ! That, lying by the violet, in the sun, Let's write good angel on the devil's horn ;Do, as the carrion does, not as the flower,
Tis not the devil's crest.
A simile on the Presence of the beloved Object. Than woman's lightness? Having waste ground
O Hearens ! Shall we desire to rase the sanctuary, [enough, Why does my blood thus muster to my heart, And pitch our evils there? Oh, fie, fie, fie, Making both it unable for itself, What dost thou, or what art thuu, Angelo? And dispossessing all my other parts Dost thou desire her foully, for those things Of necessary fitness ? That make her good? Oh, let her brother live: So play the foolish throngs with one that Thieves for their robbery have authority, When judges steal themselves. What! do I love Come all to help him, and thus stop the air That I desire to hear her speak again, . [her, By which he should revive: and even so And feast upon her eyes ? What is't I dream The gen'ral subject to a well-wish'd king, Oh, cupping enemy, that to catch a saint, [on? | Quit their own part, and in obsequious fondness With saints dost bait thy hook! Most dange- Crowd to his presence, where their untaught love Is that temptation, that does goad us on [rous Must needs appear offence. To sin in loving virtue: de'er could the
Fornication and Murder equalled. strumpet,
Fie, these filthy vices ! It were as good, With all her double vigor, art and nature,
To pardon him that hath from nature stol'n Once stir my temper: but this virtuous maid
A man already made, as to remit [image Subdues me quite
Their saucy sweetness, that do coin Heaven's True Repentance. (carry? In stamps that are forbid : 'tis all as easy Duke. Repent you, fair one, of the sin
you Falsely to take away a life true made, Jul. I do; and bear the shame most patiently. As to put mettle in restrained means, Duke. I'll teach you how you shall arraign To make a false one.
your conscience, And try your penitence, if it be sound,
Compelled Sins. Or hollowly put on.
Our compelld sina
Stand more for number than for account.
Lowliness of Mind. [good, Jul. Yes, as I love the woman that wrong'd Isab. Let me be ignorant, and in nothing him.
[ful act But graciously to know I am no better. [bright, Duke. So then, it seems, your most offence- Ang. Thus wisdom wishes to appear most Was mutually committed ?
When it does tax itself: as these black masks Jul Mutually.
[than his. Proclaim an enshield beauty ten times louder Duke. Then was your sin of heavier kind | Than beauty could display'd.
Heroic Female Virtue.
And yet runn'st tow'rd him still. Thou art not Ang. Admit no other way to save his life
noble; (As I subscribe not that or any other,
For all the accommodations that thou bear'st But in the loss of question), that you his sister, Are nurs'd by baseness : thou art by no means Finding yourself desir'd of such a person,
valiant ; Whose credit with the judge, or own great For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork place,
poor worm. Thy best of rest is sleep, Could fetch your brother from the manacles And that thou oft provok'st: yet grossly fear'st Of the all-binding law; and that there were Thy death, which is no more. Thou art not No earthly mean to save him, but that either
thyself; You must lay down the treasures of your body, For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains ; To this supposed, or else to let bim suffer ;
That issue out of dust. Happy thou art not ; What would you do?
For what thou hast not, still thou striv'st to get ; Isab. As much for my poor brother as my. And what thou hast, forgett'st. Thou art not self:
certain, That is, were I under the terms of death, For thy complexion shifts to strange effects, Th'impression of keen whips I'd wear as rubies, After the moon. If thou art rich, thou'rt poor ; And strip myself to death as to a bed
For, like an ass, whose back with ingots bows, That longing I have been sick for, ere I'd yield Thou bear`st thy heavy riches but a journey, My body up to shame.
And death unloads thee. Friend thou hast Ang. Then must your brother die.
none; Isab. And 'twere the cheaper way:
For thine own bowels, which do call thee sire, Better it were a brother died at once,
The mere effusion of thy proper loins, Than that a sister, by redeeming him
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum, Should die for ever.
For ending thee no sooner. Thou hast nor Ang. Were not you then as cruel as the sen- youth 110r age, That you have slander'd so?
But as it were an after dinner's sleep, Isal. An ignominious ransom, and free par- Dreaming on both; for all thy blessed youth Are of two houses ; lawful mercy sure, [don, Becomes as aged, and doth beg the alms Is nothing kin to foul redemption.
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich, Self-interest palliates Faults.
Thou hast neither heat, affection, limb, nor
beauty, Isab. It oft falls out, [what we mean. To make thy riches pleasant. What's yet in this, To have what we would have, we speak not That bears the name of life? Yet in this life I something do excuse the thing I hate, Lie hid more thousand deaths: yet death we For his advantage that I dearly love.
That makes these odds all even. [fear, Woman's Frailty.
The Terrors of Death most in Apprehension. Ang. -Nay, women are frail too. Claud. Is there no remedy? [head, Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view Isab. None but such remedy as, to save a themselves;
Would cleave a heart in twain. Which are as easy broke as they make forms.
Claud. But is there any? Women! help Heaven! men their creation mar,
[frail ; Isab. O, I do fear thee, Claudio; and I quake, In profiting by them: nay call us ten times Lest thou a fer’rous life shouldst entertain, For we are soft as our complexions are, And six or seven winters more respect And credulous to false prints.
Than a perpetual honor. Dar'st thou die? Weight of established Reputation. The sense of death is most in apprehension ; Ang. Who will believe thee, Isabel ? And the poor beetle that we tread upon, My unsoild name, th' austereness of my life,
In corp'ral sufferance feels a pang as great
Resolution from a Sense of Honor.
Why give you me this shame? And smell of calumny.
Think you I can a resolution fetch
From flow'ry tenderness? If I must die,
And hug it in my arms ! [ther's grave Moral Reflections on the Vanity of Life.
Isab. There spake my brother; there my fa
Did utter forth a voice.
A sainted Hypocrite.
His filth within being cast, lae would appear Pattern in himself to know,
Grace to stand, and virtue go;
More or less to others paying,
Kills for faults of his own liking !
Twice treble shame on Angelo,
To weed my vice and let his grow! I'd throw it down for your deliverance O, what may man within him hide, As frankly as a pin!
Though angel on the outward side !
How may likeness made in crimes, Claud. Ah, Isabel !
Mocking practice on the times, Isab. What says my brother?
To draw with idle spider's strings, Claud. Death's a fearful thing. Most pond'rous and substantial things! Isab. And shamed life a hateful. [where;
A beautiful Song. Claud. Ah, but to die, and go we know not Take, O take those lips away, To lie in cold obstruction, and to rot;
That so sweetly were forsworn; This sensible warm motion to become
And those eyes, the break of day, A kneaded clod; and the dilated spirit
Lights that do mislead the morn ; To bathe in fiery floods ; or to reside
But my kisses bring again; In thrilling regions of thick-ribbed ice :
Seals of love, but seald in vain. To be imprison'd in the viewless winds,
Hide, O hide those hills of snow, And blown with restless violence round about
Which thy frozen bosom bears, The pendant world; or to be worse than worst
On whose tops the pinks that grow Of those, that lawless and incertain thoughts Are of those that April wears; Imagine howling! 'tis too horrible!
But my poor heart first set free,
Bound in those icy chains by thee.
With whispering and most guilty diligence, To what we fear of death.
In action all of precept, he did show me Cowardly Apprehension of Death reproached. The way twice o'er. Isab. O, faithless coward! O dishonest
Greatness subject to Censure. wretch !
O place and greatness ! millions of false eyes Wilt thou be made a man out of my vice? Is't not a kind of incest, to take life (think? Run with these false and most contrarious quests
Are struck upon thee; volumes of report From thine own sister's shame? What should I Upon thy doings : thousand 'scapes of wit Heaven grant my mother play'd my father fair! Make thee the father of their idle dream, For such a warped slip of wilderness [ance. And rack thee in their fancies. Ne'er issued from his blood.—Take my defi
By eight to-morrow
As fast lock'd up in sleep, as guiltless labor Mercy to thee would prove itself a bawd;
When it lies starkly in the traveller's bones. 'Twere best thou diest quickly!
Upright Governor supposed.
Prov. It is a bitter deputy.
Even with the stroke and line of his great Fie, sirrah! a bawda wicked bawd!
justice; The evil that thou causest to be done,
He doth with holy abstinence subdue That is thy means to live. Dost thou but think That in himself, which he spurs on his power What 'tis to cram a maw, or clothe a back,
To qualify in others : were he meal'd From such a filthy vice? Say to thyself,
With that which he corrects, then were he From their abominable and beastly touches
But this being so, he's just. [tyrannous :
This is a gentle provost; seldom, when So stinkingly depending! Go, mend; go mend! The steeled jailor is the friend of men.
Comfort from Despair.
But I will keep her ignorant of her good,
Complaining useless. Can tie the gall up in the sland'rous tongue ?
Isab. Injurioasworld! most damned Angelo! Good Example necessary in Rulers. Duke. This nor hurts him, nor profits you He, who the sword of Heaven will bear,
a jot: Should be as holy as severe;
Forbear it therefore, give your cause to Heaven
Character of an Arch Hypocrite. But I should think of shallows and of flats; O, I conjure thee, prince, as thou believ'st And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, There is another comfort than this world, Vailing her high top lower than her ribs, That thou neglect me not, with that opinion To kiss her burial. 'Should I go to church, That I am touch'd with madness : make not And see the holy edifice of stone, impossible
[sible And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, That which but seems unlike: 'tis not impos- Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, But one, the wickedest caixiff on the ground, Would scatter all her spices on the stream: May seem as shy, as grave, as just, as absolute, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks : As Angelo; even so may Angelo,
And, in a word, but even now worth this, In all his dressings, characts, titles, forms, And now worth nothing? Shall I have the Be an arch villain : trust me, royal prince,
thought If he be less, he's nothing: but he's more, To think of this! and shall I lack the thought Had I more names for badness.
That such a thing bechanc'd, would make me Respect due to Place.
But tell not me; I know Antonio (sad? Respect to your great place!mand let the devil Is sad to think upon his merchandise. Be sometimes honor'd for his burning throne.
Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune
for it, Impossibility of Intercession.
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Against all sense you do importune her. Should she kneel down, in mercy of this fact, Upon the fortune of this present year :
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Her brother's ghost his paved bed would break, Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. And take her hence in horror!
Sal. Why then you are in love. •
Ant Fie, fie.
you are sad, For being a little bad; so may iny husband. Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy Intents more ercusable than Acts.
For you to laugh, and leap, and say you are His act did not o'ertake his bad intent;
[Janus, And must be buried but as an intent;
Because you are not sad. Now by two-headed That perish'd by the way: thoughts are no Somethat will evermore peep through their eyes,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time : Intents but merely thoughts. [subjects;
And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper :
That they'll not show their teeth in way of sinile, $6. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
SHAKS PEARE. Natural Presentiment of Evil finely pointed out; The Imprudence of setting too great a Valuc with a Contrast of a cheerful and melancholy
upon the World. Man.
You have too much respect upon the world; Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad; They lose it that do buy it with much care. It wearies me: you say, it wearies you : But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
The true Value of the World. What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; I am to learn.
A stage, where every man must play his part; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
And mine a sad one! That I have much ado to know myself.
Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean, Cheerfulness and affected Gravity contrasted. There where your argosies with portly sail,
Let me play the fool : Like signiors and rich burghers on the floud, With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; Or as it were the pageants of the sea - And let my liver rather heat with wine Do over-peer the petty traffickers,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. That curtsey to them, do them reverence, Why should a man whose blood is warm withAs they Ay by them with their woven wings. Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ? (in,
Salan. Believe me, Sir, had I such ventures, Sleep when he wakes, and creep into ihe The better part of my affections would
jaundice Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still forth, By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio, Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind: 1 love thee, and it is my love that speaks : Peering in maps, for ports, and piers, and roads: There are a sort men, whose visages And every object, that might make me fear Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt, And do a wilful stillness entertain, Would make me sad.
With purpose to be drest in an opinion Salar. My wind, cooling my broth, Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; Would blow me to an ague, when I thought As who should say, “ I am Sir Oracle, What harm a wind too great might do at sea. And when I ope my lips let no dog bark." I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, O, my Antonio, I do know of those,
That therefore only are reputed wise,
A Jew's Sanctity and Hypocrisy. For saving nothing ; who, I am very sure,
Shyl. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's If they should speak, would almost damn those
sheep, ears, Which, hearing them, would call their bro- This Jacob from our holy Abraham was
(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf) thers fools. I'll tell thee more of this another time:
The third possessor; ay, he was the third.
Ant. And what of him? did he take interest? But fish not with this melancholy bait, For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
Shyl. No, not take interest; not as you would
Directly interest; mark what Jacob did: [say, Jocose Satire on Silence.
When Laban and himself were compromis'd, Silence is only commendable [dible.
That all the eanlings, which were streak'd and py'd,
[rank, In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not ven
Should fall as Jacob's hire,-the ewes being Generous and disinterested Friendship.
In end of autumn turned to the rams:
And when the work of generation was Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it: Between those woolly breeders in the act, And, if it stand, as you yourself still do,
The skilful shepherd peeld me certain wands, Within the eye of honor, be assur'd
And, in the doing of the deed of kind, My purse, iny person, my extremest means,
He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes ; Lie all unlock d to your occasions. Bass. In ny school-days, when I had lost one Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were
Who then conceiving, did in eaning time I shot his fellow of the self-same flight [shaft,
Jacob's. The self-same way, with more advised watch, This was a way to thrive, and he was blest; To find the other; and, by advent'ring both,
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. I oft found both : I urge this childhood proof,
Ant. This was a venture, Sir, that Jacob Because what follows is pure innocence.
serv'd for; I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth,
A thing not in his power to bring to pass, That which I owe is lost : but if you please To shoot another arrow that self way
But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of HeaWhich you did shoot the first, I do not doubt. Or is your gold and silver ewes and rams?
Was this inserted to inake interest good ? (ven. As I will watch the aim,-or to find both,
Shyl. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast: Or bring your latter hazard back again,
But note me, signior. And thankfully rest debtor for the first. Ant. You know me well; and herein spend The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
Ant. Mark you this, Bassanio, but time, To wind about my love with circumstance;
An evil soul, producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a siniling cheek i
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! Then do but say to me what I should do,
The Jew's Expostulation.
Signior Antonio, many a time and oft
In the Rialto you have rated me - Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea;
About monies and my usances : Neither have I money, nor commodity
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug, To raise a present sum: therefore go forth,
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. Try what my credit can in Venice do ;
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, That shall be rack'd even to the uttermost,
And spit upon my Jewish gabardine, To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.
And all for use of that which is my own. Go, presently inquire, and so will I,
Well then, it now appears you need my Where money is; and I no question make
help :To have it of my trust, or for my sake.
Go to then ;-you come to me, and you say,
“ Shylock, we would have monies;" you say so; A Jew's Malice.
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, Bass. This is signior Antonio.
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger-cur. Shyl. How like a fawning publican he looks! Over your threshold :-Monies is your suit.I hate him, for he is a Christian: [Aside. What should I say to you?-Should I not say, But more for that, in low simplicity,
“ Hath a dog money?-Is it possible He lends out money gratis, and brings down A cur can lend three thousand ducats ?"--or The rate of usance here with us in Venice. Shall I bend low, and, in a bondman's key, If I can catch him once upon the hip With 'bated breath and whisp’ring humbleI will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
ness, He hates our sacred nation, and he rails gate, Say this: “ Fair Sir, you spit on me on Wed, E'en there, where merchants most do congre- nesday last; On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, You spurn'd'me such a day; another time Which he calls interest. Cursed be my tribe, You call’d me dog; and for these courtesies If I forgive him!
I'll lend you thus much monies?"