The Merchant of Venice (The Jew of Venice) · chunk 7 of 43
Shakespeare, William · published 1619 · first performed or written 1596 [1596-1598] (Annals) comedy · Lord Chamberlain's (Hunsdon's) Men T39 Profit, conscience and dishonest dealing typicality 0.66 · 491 words · other edition — not in the analysis
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of T39: conscience, lucre, usury, lucar, fraud, dissimulation, simony, london, lady, nemo.
How like a fawning Publican he looks. I hate him for he is a Christian: But more, for that in low simplicity He lends out money gratis, and brings down The rate of usance here with us in Venice. If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our sacred Nation, and he rails Even there where Merchants most do congregate, On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, Which he calls interest: Cursed be my Tribe If I forgive him. Shylocke, do you hear. I am debating of my present store, And by the near guess of my memory, I cannot instantly raise up the gross Of full three thousand ducats: what of that? Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my Tribe, Will furnish me; but soft, how many months Do you desire? Rest you fair good signor, Your worship was the last man in our mouths. Shylocke, although I neither lend nor borrow, By taking nor by giving of excess, Yet to supply the ripe wants of my friend, I'll break a custom: are you resolved, How much he would have? I, I, three thousand ducats. And for three months. I had forgot, three months, you told me so. Well then, your bond: and let me see, but hear you, Methought you said, you neither lend nor borrow Upon advantage. I do never use it. When Jacob grazed his uncle Laban's sheep, This Jacob from our holy Abram was (As his wise Mother wrought in his behalf) The third possessor; I, he was the third. And what of him, did he take interest? No, not take interest, not as you would say Directly interest, mark what Jacob did, When Laban and himself were compremyzd, That all the canelings which were streaked and pied, Should fall as Jacobs' hire, the Ewes being rank, In th'end of autumn turned to the Rams, And when the work of generation was Between these woolly breeders in the act, The skilful shepherd pyld me certain wands, And in the doing of the deed of kind, He stuck them up before the fulsome Ewes, Who then conceiving, did in eaning time Fall particoloured lambs, and those were Jacobs'. This was a way to thrive, and he was blessed: And thrift is blessing if men steal it not. This was a venture sir, that Jacob ser'ud for, A thing not in his power to bring to pass, But swaud and fashioned by the hand of heaven. Was this inserted to make interest good? Or is your gold and silver, Ewes and Rams? I cannot tell, I make it breed as fast, But note me signor. Mark you this Bassanio, The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose, An evil soul producing holy witness, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O what a goodly outside falsehood hath.
Other edition — placed after the fit, excluded from the main statistics
Position
nodes 230–295 (positions in the processed text, not lines of the printed book) · chunk 7 of 43 in this edition
Length
491 words · 647 tokens
Topic (seed 42)
T39 — Profit, conscience and dishonest dealingcross-work theme (confirmed, in the genre comparison) · typicality 0.664 (cosine to the topic centroid) · placed after the fit (approximate_predict), not counted in the topic statistics
Other seeds
seed 43: T41 · seed 44: T39 — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
How like a fawning Publican he lookes. I hate him for he is a Chriſtian: But more, for that in lowe ſimplicity He lends out mony gratis, and brings downe The rate of vſance heere with vs in Venice. If I can catch him once vpon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I beare him. He hates our ſacred Nation, and he rayles Euen there where Merchants moſt do congregate, On me, my bargaines, and my well-won thrift, Which he cals intereſt: Curſed be my Tribe If I forgiue him. Shylocke, do you heare. I am debating of my preſent ſtore, And by the neere gueſſe of my memory, I cannot inſtantly raiſe vp the groſſe Of full three thouſand ducats: what of that? Tuball, a wealthy Hebrew of my Tribe, Will furniſh me; but ſoft, how many months Doe you deſire? Reſt you faire good Signior, Your worſhip was the laſt man in our mouthes. Shylocke, although I neither lend nor borrow, By taking nor by giuing of exceſſe, Yet to ſupply the ripe wants of my friend, Ile breake a cuſtome: are you reſolu'd, How much he would haue? I, I, three thouſand ducats. And for three moneths. I had forgot, three months, you told me ſo. Well then, your bond: and let me ſee, but heare you, Me-thought you ſaid, you neither lend nor borrow Vpon aduantage. I do neuer vſe it. When Iacob graz'd his Vnckle Labans ſheepe, This Iacob from our holy Abram was (As his wiſe Mother wrought in his behalfe) The third poſſeſſer; I, he was the third. And what of him, did he take intereſt? No, not take intereſt, not as you would ſay Directly intereſt, marke what Iacob did, When Laban and himſelfe were compremyzd, That all the canelings which were ſtreakt and pied, Should fall as Iacobs hier, the Ewes being rancke, In th'end of Autume turned to the Rams, And when the worke of generation was Betweene theſe woolly breeders in the acte, The skilfull ſhepheard pyld me certaine wands, And in the doing of the deed of kinde, He ſtucke them vp before the fulſome Ewes, Who then conceiuing, did in eaning time Fall party-coloured lambes, and thoſe were Iacobs. This was a way to thriue, and he was bleſt: And thrift is bleſſing if men ſteale it not. This was a venture ſir, that Iacob ſer'ud for, A thing not in his power to bring to paſſe, But ſwavd and faſhion'd by the hand of heauen. Was this inſerted to make intereſt good? Or is your gold and ſiluer, Ewes and Rams? I cannot tell, I make it breed as faſt, But note me ſignior. Marke you this Baſſanio, The diuell can cite Scripture for his purpoſe, An euill ſoule producing holy witneſſe, Is like a villaine with a ſmiling cheeke, A goodly apple rotten at the heart. O what a goodly outſide falſhood hath.