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The Merchant of Venice is a play by William Shakespeare, believed to have been written between 1596 and 1598.A merchant in Venice named Antonio defaults on a large loan taken out on behalf of his dear friend, Bassanio, and provided by a Jewish moneylender, Shylock, with seemingly inevitable fatal consequences.
Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, heal'd by the same means, warm'd and cool'd by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh?
And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest– For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men– Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me: But Brutus says he was ambitious; And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome
The word "breast" is often misquoted as "beast" and "has" sometimes appears as "hath". The lines are probably inspired by Pharsalia, written by Lucan. [2] Also often repeated is a quotation of Zara in Act III, Scene II: Heav'n has no rage, like love to hatred turn'd, Nor hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd. [3]
O, me, what eyes hath Love put in my head, Which have no correspondence with true sight! Or, if they have, where is my judgement fled, That censures falsely what they see aright? If that be fair whereon my false eyes dote, What means the world to say it is not so? If it be not, then love doth well denote Love’s eye is not so true as all men ...
"The first time I heard Gloria's monologue I honestly kinda rolled my eyes, because it felt like the same thing I'd seen a million times before in half-done advertising campaigns or in moody ...
We do not yet see that glory, or how it may reconcile the ancient conflict between Christian and Jew. But belief in the God of the Old Testament, who does not revoke His promises to the children ...
When you entombed in men’s eyes shall lie. Your monument shall be my gentle verse, Which eyes not yet created shall o’er-read, And tongues to be your being shall rehearse, When all the breathers of this world are dead. You still shall live, such virtue hath my pen, Where breath most breathes, even in the mouths of men.