6. Shylock's Gratification in the expectation of Revenge. Antonio-a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto; a beggar, that used to come so smug upon the mart.-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 a Christian courtesy ;-let him look to his bond." : His flesh-what's that good for? If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge! He hath disgraced me, and hindered me of half a million; laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains, cooled my friends, heated my 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? Is he not 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 summer and winter, 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 villany you teach me, I will execute; and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction. (Antonio enters, in custody.) Gaoler, look to him. Tell not me of mercy ; This is the fool that lends out money gratis ;- I'll have my bond; speak not against my bond: I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee speak : I'll not be made a soft and dull-eyed fool, (3.) REMORSE AND DESPAIR. 1. Description of Remorse. Shakspeare. And first within the porch and jaws of Hell So was her mind continually in fear, Toss'd and tormented by the tedious thought Of those detested crimes which she had wrought: With dreadful cheer and looks thrown to the sky, Wishing for death, and yet she could not die. Earl of Dorset. 2. Othello's Remorse. But why should honour outlive honesty? Uncle, I must come forth: Behold! I have a weapon,— A better never did itself sustain Upon a soldier's thigh: I have seen the day Who can control his fate? 'Tis not so now! Do you go back dismay'd? 'Tis a lost fear; And he retires ;-Where should Othello go? fiends, Now, how dost thou look now? O, ill-starr'd wench! 3. A Mother's violent Grief and Despair. (The Lady Constance on the Imprisonment of her Son, I defy all counsel, all redress But that which ends all counsel, true redress. I am not mad; this hair I tear is mine; And will again commit them to their bonds, And chase the native beauty from his cheek, When I shall meet him in the courts of heaven Shakspeare. 4. Despair at Separation from a Lover. "Parting!" "Farewell!" Am I alive? Falkner? Thou lovest me? I have not offended thee? I have said nothing to have wrought this change? Or have I loved thee so devotedly, My very truth is turned into offence? What have I done, that I should see thee thus, And pause; yea, pause awile, my Falkner; Nor wait the gradual breaking of a heart; And should we meet, indeed, no more on earth, Thou wilt not say "farewell?" Oh, Falkner, show some pity; or, if thou goest, do! I know not what to do or what may 5. Death-bed Despair. C. Swain. "Pray you that can"-he said "I never prayed. I cannot pray. Heaven closes with my conscience. Its severest strokes but second my own.' Let me speak on. I have not long to speak. My much injured friend! my soul-as my body-lies in ruins; in scattered fragments of broken thought! Remorse for the past, throws my thought on the future. Worse dread of the future, strikes it back on the past. I turn, and turn, and find no ray. Did you feel half the mountain that is on me, you would struggle with the martyr for his stake, and bless Heaven for the flames! That is not an everlasting flame;—that is not an unquenchable fire!" And then, with what an eye of distraction, what a face of despair, he cried out-" My principles have poisoned my friend! my extravagance has beggared my boy! my unkindness has murdered my wife! And is there another Hell? Oh! Hell itself will be a refuge, if it hide me from thy frown!"-Young. 6. Despair with Madness. (The Death of Cardinal Beaufort.) If thou be'est Death, I'll give thee England's treasure, So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain! Bring me unto my trial when you will. Died he not in his bed? Where should he die? |