Page 471 - Shakespeare - Vol. 2

From both, my lord. Bellario greets your grace. [120]

She presents a letter.

BASSANIO
Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?

SHYLOCK
To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there.

GRATIANO
Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,
Thou mak’st thy knife keen; but no metal can,

No, not the hangman’s axe, bear half the keenness [125]
Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee?

SHYLOCK
No, none that thou hast wit enough to make.

GRATIANO
O be thou damned, inexecrable dog,
And for thy life let justice be accused!

Thou almost mak’st me waver in my faith, [130]
To hold opinion with Pythagoras
That souls of animals infuse themselves
Into the trunks of men: thy currish spirit

Governed a wolf who, hanged for human slaughter,
Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, [135]
And whilst thou layest in thy unhallowed dam
Infused itself in thee; for thy desires

Are wolvish, bloody, starved, and ravenous.

SHYLOCK
Till thou canst rail the seal from off my bond,
Thou but offend’st thy lungs to speak so loud; [140]
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall

To cureless ruin. I stand here for law.