The quality of mercy is not strain'd.
The quality of mercy is not strain'd.
Forgive me, Valentine; if hearty sorrow
Be a sufficient ransom for offence,
I tender 't here; I do as truly suffer
As e'er I did commit.
Nothing emboldens sin as much as mercy.
When vice makes mercy, mercy's so extended
That for the fault's love is th' offender friended.
God forgive us our sins!
Kind gods, forgive me that, and prosper him!
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range
With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants.
His scepter 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 sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the heart of kings;
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.
Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God!
If I do sweat, they are the drops
of thy lovers, and they weep for thy death; therefore rouse up
fear and trembling, and do observance to my mercy.
If I know more of any man alive
Than that which maiden modesty doth warrant,
Let all my sins lack mercy!
These banish'd men, that I have kept withal,
Are men endu'd with worthy qualities;
Forgive them what they have committed here,
And let them be recall'd from their exile:
They are reformed, civil, full of good,
And fit for great employment, worthy lord.
He dies, and makes no sign: O God, forgive him!
Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,
That thou but leadest this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then, 'tis thought,
Thou'lt show thy mercy and remorse, more strange
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty;
And where thou now exacts the penalty,
Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,
Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal,
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back-
Enow to press a royal merchant down,
And pluck commiseration of his state
From brassy bosoms and rough hearts of flint,
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.
As for your spiteful false objections,
Prove them, and I lie open to the law;
But God in mercy so deal with my soul
As I in duty love my king and country!
Cry the man mercy, love him, take his offer;
Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer.
O, forgive me my sins!
That's mercy, but too much security.
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.
The king-becoming graces,
As justice, verity, temperance, stableness,
Bounty, perseverance, mercy, lowliness,
Devotion, patience, courage, fortitude,
I have no relish of them, but abound
In the division of each several crime,
Acting it many ways.
Pray you now, forget and forgive.
Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge.
Forgive the comment that my passion made
Upon thy feature; for my rage was blind,
And foul imaginary eyes of blood
Presented thee more hideous than thou art.
Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill.
O, cry you mercy, sir.
© 2020 Inspirational Stories
© 2020 Inspirational Stories