Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
Title: Search
Iew. I will feede fat the ancient grudge I beare him.
Iew. He hates our sacred Nation, and he railes
Iew. Euen there where Merchants most doe congregate
Iew. On me, my bargaines, and my well‑worne thrift,
Iew. Which he cals interrest: Cursed by my Trybe
Iew. If I forgiue him.
Bass. Bass.
Bass. Shylock, doe you heare.
Shy. Shy.
Shy. I am debating of my present store,
Shy. And by the neere gesse of my memorie
Shy. I cannot instantly raise vp the grosse
Shy. Of full three thousand ducats: what of that?
Shy. Tuball a wealthy Hebrew of my Tribe
Shy. Will furnish me: but soft, how many months
Shy. Doe you desire? Rest you faire good signior,
Shy. Your worship was the last man in our mouthes.
Ant. Ant.
Ant. Shylocke, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
Ant. By taking, nor by giuing of excesse,