Therefore, Jew,

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. I have spoke thus much,
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;

Which, if thou follow this strict court of Venice,
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.
Shy. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law,
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

Por. Is he not able to discharge the money? Bassanio. Yes, here I tender it for him in the court; Yea, twice the sum; if that will not suffice,

I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er.

Por. It must not be; there's no power in Venice Can alter a decree established;

"T will be recorded for a precedent;

And many an error, by the same example,
Will rush into the state; it cannot be.

Shy. A Daniel come to judgment! Yea, a Daniel! O wise young judge, how do I honor thee!

Por. I pray you, let me look upon the bond. Shy. Here 't is, most reverend doctor; here it is. Por. Shylock, there 's thrice thy money offered thee. Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven; Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?

No, not for Venice.

Por. Why, this bond is forfeit ;

And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off

Nearest the merchant's heart. Be merciful;
Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.
Shy. When it is paid according to the tenor.
It doth appear, you are a worthy judge;
You know the law; your exposition

Hath been most sound. I charge you by the law,
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
Proceed to judgment; by my soul I swear,
There is no power in the tongue of man
To alter me. I stay here on my bond.

Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court
To give the judgment.

BAFFLED REVENGE AND HATE.

Por. Why then, thus it is;

You must prepare your bosom for his knife.
Shy. O noble judge! O excellent young man!
Por. For the intent and purpose of the law
Hath full relation to the penalty,

Which here appeareth due upon the bond.

Shy. 'T is very true. O wise and upright judge!
How much more elder art thou than thy looks!
Por. Therefore, lay bare your bosom.

So

Shy. Ay, his breast;

says the bond; doth it not, noble judge? Nearest his heart; those are the very words. Are there balance here, to weigh

Por. It is so.

The flesh?

Shy. I have them ready.

Por. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge, To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.

Shy. Is it so nominated in the bond?

Por. It is not so expressed; but what of that? 'T were good you do so much for charity.

Shy. I cannot find it; 't is not in the bond.
Por. Come, merchant, have you anything to say?
Ant. But little; I am armed, and well prepared.
Give me your hand, Bassanio; fare you well!
Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you;
For herein fortune shows herself more kind
Than is her custom; it is still her use,
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth;
To view, with hollow eye and wrinkled brow,
An age of poverty; from which lingering penance
Of such misery doth she cut me off.
Commend me to your honorable wife;
Tell her the process of Antonio's end;

Say, how I loved you; speak me fair in death;
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge,
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent not you that you shall lose your friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt;
For, if the Jew do cut but deep enough,

I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.

Por. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine;

The court awards it, and the law doth give it.

145

Shy. Most rightful judge!

Por. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast; The law allows it, and the court awards it.

Shy. Most learned judge! A sentence ! come, prepare.
Por. Tarry a little; there is something else.

This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood;
The words expressly are, a pound of flesh.
Take then thy bond; take thou thy pound of flesh;
But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed

One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods

Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate

Unto the state of Venice.

Gratiano. O upright judge! — Mark, Jew!—O, learned judge!

Shy. Is that the law?

Por. Thyself shall see the act;

For, as thou urgest justice, be assured,

Thou shalt have justice, more than thou desirest.

Gra. O learned judge! Mark, Jew! a learned judge! Shy. I take this offer then; pay the bond thrice,

And let the Christian go.

Bas. Here is the money.

Por. Soft;

The Jew shall have all justice! soft! no haste;
He shall have nothing but the penalty.

Gra. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge!
Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh.
Shed thou no blood; nor cut thou less, nor more,
But just a pound of flesh. If thou takest more
Or less than just a pound, be it but so much
As makes it light or heavy in the substance,
Or the division of the twentieth part

Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn
But in the estimation of a hair,

Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.

Gra. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!

Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip.

Por. Why doth the Jew pause? take thy forfeiture.
Shy. Give me my principal, and let me go.

Bas. I have it ready for thee; here it is.
Por. He hath refused it in the open court;
He shall have merely justice, and his bond.

A SLIDE IN THE WHITE MOUNTAINS. 147

Gra. A Daniel, still say I! a second Daniel!
I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word.
Shy. Shall I not have barely my principal?
Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture,
To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.

Shy. Why, then the devil give him good of it!
I'll stay no longer question.

Por. Tarry, Jew;

The law hath yet another hold on you.

It is enacted in the laws of Venice,
If it be proved against an alien,
That, by direct or indirect attempts,
He seek the life of any citizen,

The party, 'gainst the which he doth contrive,
Shall seize one half his goods; the other half
Comes to the privy coffer of the state;
And the offender's life lies in the mercy
Of the Duke only, 'gainst all other voice.
In which predicament, I say, thou standest;
For it appears by manifest proceeding,
That, indirectly, and directly too,
Thou hast contrived against the very life
Of the defendant; and thou hast incurred
The danger formerly by me rehearsed.

Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke.

Gra. Beg, that thou mayest have leave to hang thyself; And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state,

Thou hast not left the value of a cord;

Therefore thou must be hanged at the state's charge. Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit,

I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it.

For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's ;
The other half comes to the general state.

LESSON LXX. A Slide in the White Mountains.

1. ROBERT looked upward. Awful precipices, to the height of more than two thousand feet, rose above him. Near the highest pinnacle, and the very one over which

Abamocho had been seated, the earth had been loosened by the violent rains. Some slight cause, perhaps the sudden bursting forth of a mountain spring, had given motion to the mass; and it was now moving forward, gathering fresh strength from its progress, uprooting the old trees, unbedding the ancient rocks, and all rolling onwards with a force and velocity no human barrier could oppose, no created power resist.

2. One glance told Robert, that Mary must perish; that he could not save her. "But I will die with her!" he exclaimed; and, shaking off the grasp of Mendowit, as he would a feather, "Mary, oh, Mary!" he continued, rushing towards her. She uncovered her head, and made an effort to rise, and articulated "Robert!" as he caught and clasped her to his bosom. "O, Mary, must we die?" he exclaimed. "We must, we must," she cried, as she gazed on the rolling mountain in agonizing horror; “why, why did you come?"

3. He replied not; but, leaning against the rock, pressed her closer to his heart; while she, clinging around his neck, burst into a passion of tears, and, laying her head on his bosom, sobbed like an infant. He bowed his face upon her cold, wet cheek, and breathed one cry for mercy; yet, even then, there was in the hearts of both lovers a feeling of wild joy in the thought that they should not be separated.

4. The mass came down, tearing, and crumbling, and sweeping all before it! The whole mountain trembled, and the ground shook like an earthquake. The air was darkened by the shower of waters, stones, and branches of trees, crushed and shivered to atoms; while the blast swept by like a whirlwind, and the crash and roar of the convulsion were far more appalling than the loudest thunder.

5. It might have been one minute or twenty,-for neither of the lovers took note of time, when, in the hush as of deathlike stillness that succeeded the uproar, Robert looked around, and saw the consuming storm had passed by. It had passed, covering the valley, further than the eye could reach, with ruin. Masses of granite, and shivered trees, and mountain earth, were heaped high around, filling the bed of the Saco, and exhibiting an awful picture of the desolating track of the avalanche.

6. Only one little spot had escaped its wrath; and there,