Shakespeare's Comedy of The Merchant of Venice

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Harper & Brothers Publishers, Franklin Square, 1887 - Počet stran: 171
 

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Strana 32 - 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 1 if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that.
Strana 117 - For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, Which is the hot condition of their blood; If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, Or any air of music touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze By the sweet power of music...
Strana 101 - Which, like your asses and your dogs and mules, You use in abject and in slavish parts, Because you bought them : — shall I say to you, Let them be free, marry them to your heirs ? Why sweat they under burdens ? let their beds Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates Be season'd with such viands ? You will answer, The slaves are ours...
Strana 117 - Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, But music for the time doth change his nature. The man that hath no music in himself, Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night And his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.
Strana 33 - I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear ! 'Would she were hearsed 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.
Strana 27 - gainst self-slaughter! O God! O God! How weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable Seem to me all the uses of this world. Fie on't! O fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature Possess it merely.
Strana 44 - Let me play the fool : With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster...
Strana 54 - Shylock, we would have moneys : ' you say so ; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur Over your threshold : moneys 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...
Strana 116 - How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank ! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of swedt harmony.
Strana 104 - The quality of mercy is not strain'd ; It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath : it is twice bless'd ; It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes : 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest...

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