_Duke._ Make room, and let him stand before our face.-- Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too, That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice To the last hour of act; and then 'tis thought Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse, more strange Than is thy strange apparent cruelty; And where thou now exact'st the penalty,-- Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,-- Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture, But, touch'd with human gentleness and love, Forgive a moiety of the principal; Glancing an eye of pity on his losses, That have of late so huddled on his back, Enough to press a royal merchant down And pluck commiseration of his state From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint, From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd To offices of tender courtesy. We all expect a gentle answer, Jew. _Shylock._ I have possess'd your grace of what I purpose; And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn To have the due and forfeit of my bond: If you deny it, let the danger light Upon your charter and your city's freedom. You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have A weight of carrion flesh than to receive Three thousand ducats; I'll not answer that; But, say, it is my humor; is it answer'd? What if my house be troubled with a rat, And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats To have it ban'd? What, are you answer'd yet? Some men there are love not a gaping pig; Some, that are mad if they behold a cat; And others, when the bagpipe sings i' the nose, Cannot contain themselves: for affection, Master of passion, sways it to the mood Of what it likes, or loathes. Now, for your answer: As there is no firm reason to be render'd, Why he cannot abide a gaping pig; Why he, a harmless necessary cat; Why he, a woollen bagpipe,--but of force Must yield to such inevitable shame As to offend, himself being offended; So can I give no reason, nor I will not, More than a lodg'd hate and a certain loathing I bear Antonio, that I follow thus A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd? _Bassanio._ This is no answer, thou unfeeling man, To excuse the current of thy cruelty. _Shylock._ I am not bound to please thee with my answer. _Bassanio._ Do all men kill the things they do not love? _Shylock._ Hates any man the thing he would not kill? _Bassanio._ Every offence is not a hate at first. _Shylock._ What, would'st thou have a serpent sting thee twice?