THE DRAMATIST'S VIEW OF LIFE

AND DUTY.

Por. The quality of mercy is not strained,
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath it is twice blessed;
It blesseth him that gives and him that takes ;
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest: it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown :
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptred sway;
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;

An earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to
render

Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there.

Shy. My deeds upon my head! I crave the law.

The penalty and forfeit of my bond.
The Merchant of Venice, iv. 1, 181.
No ceremony that to great ones 'longs,
Not the king's crown, nor the deputed sword,
The marshal's truncheon, nor the judge's robe,
Become them with one-half so good a grace
As mercy does.
Measure for Measure, ii. 2, 59.

The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;

The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing;

Which if thou follow, this strict court of What virtue breeds iniquity devours:
We have no good that we can say is ours,
But ill-annexed Opportunity

Venice

Or kills his life or else his quality. O Opportunity, thy guilt is great! 'Tis thou that executest the traitor's treason: Thou set'st the wolf where he the lamb may get; Whoever plots the sin, thou 'point'st the sea

With honor, wealth, and ease, in waning age,
And in this aim there is such thwarting strife,
That one for all, or all for one we gage;
As life for honor in fell battle's rage;

Honor for wealth; and oft that wealth doth
cost

The death of all, and all together lost.
So that in venturing ill we leave to be
The things we are for that which we expect ;
And this ambitious foul infirmity,

In having much, torments us with defect
Of that we have: so then we do neglect

The thing we have; and, all for want of wit,
Make something nothing by augmenting it.

Lucrece, 131.

OPPORTUNITY.

UNRULY blasts wait on the tender spring; Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers;

son;

'Tis thou that spurn'st at right, at law, at

reason;

And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him,

Sits sin, to seize the souls that wander by him. . . .

Thy honey turns to gall, thy joy to grief!
Thy secret pleasure turns to open shame,
Thy private feasting to a public fast;
Thy smoothing titles to a ragged name;
Thy sugared tongue to bitter wormwood taste;
Thy violent vanities can never last.

How comes it then, vile Opportunity,
Being so bad, such numbers seek for thee?
When wilt thou be the humble suppliant's
friend,

And bring him where his suit may be obtained?

When wilt thou sort an hour great strifes to end,

Or free that soul which wretchedness hath chained?

Give physic to the sick, ease to the pained? The poor, lame, blind, halt, creep, cry out for thee;

But they ne'er meet with Opportunity.