_Shy._ What judgement shall I dread, doing no wrong? You have among you many a purchased slave, 90 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 burthens? let their beds 95 Be made as soft as yours, and let their palates Be season’d with such viands? You will answer ‘The slaves are ours:’ so do I answer you: The pound of flesh, which I demand of him, Is dearly bought; ’tis mine and I will have it. 100 If you deny me, fie upon your law! There is no force in the decrees of Venice. I stand for judgement: answer; shall I have it? _Duke._ Upon my power I may dismiss this court, Unless Bellario, a learned doctor, 105 Whom I have sent for to determine this, Come here to-day. _Saler._ My lord, here stays without A messenger with letters from the doctor, New come from Padua. _Duke._ Bring us the letters; call the messenger. 110 _Bass._ Good cheer, Antonio! What, man, courage yet! The Jew shall have my flesh, blood, bones, and all, Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood. _Ant._ I am a tainted wether of the flock, Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruit 115 Drops earliest to the ground; and so let me: You cannot better be employ’d, Bassanio, Than to live still, and write mine epitaph. _Enter_ NERISSA, _dressed like a lawyer’s clerk_. _Duke._ Came you from Padua, from Bellario? _Ner._ From both, my lord. Bellario greets your Grace. 120 [_Presenting a letter._ _Bass._ Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly? _Shy._ To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there. _Gra._ Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew, Thou makest 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? _Shy._ No, none that thou hast wit enough to make. _Gra._ O, be thou damn’d, inexecrable dog! And for thy life let justice be accused. Thou almost makest 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 Govern’d a wolf, who, hang’d for human slaughter, Even from the gallows did his fell soul fleet, 135 And, whilst thou lay’st in thy unhallow’d dam, Infused itself in thee; for thy desires Are wolvish, bloody, starved and ravenous. _Shy._ 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. _Duke._ This letter from Bellario doth commend A young and learned doctor to our court. Where is he?