From The Merchant of Venice by William Shakespeare... The screen writer and the director of the movie is Michael Radford. He also wrote the screenplay of "1984" -the famous novel by George Orwell- and directed it. I highly recommend you to read the play first.
Shylock: If it will feed nothing else,
it will feed my revenge.
He hath disgraced me
and hindered me half a million,
laughed at my losses, mocked at my gains,
scorned my nation, thwarted my bargains,
cooled my friends, heated mine enemies,
and what's his reason?
I am a Jew!
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?
Healed by the same means?
Warmed and cooled 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?
If you poison us, do we not die?
And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
If we are like you in the rest,
we will resemble you in that.
If a Jew wrong a Christian,
what is his humility? Revenge.
If a Christian wrong a Jew,
what should his sufferance be
by Christian example?
Why, revenge.
The villainy you teach me I will execute.
And it shall go hard
but I will better the instruction.
**
Portia: You see me, lord Bassanio,
where I stand, such as I am.
[...] Happiest of all,
is that her gentle spirit
commits itself to yours to be directed
as by her governor,
her lord,
her king.
This house, these servants,
and this same myself
are yours,
my lord's.
I give them with this ring,
which when you part from,
lose or give away,
let it presage the ruin of your love.
And give me vantage to exclaim on you.
**
Bassanio: The world is still deceived
with ornament.
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
but being seasoned with a gracious voice
obscures the show of evil?
In religion,
what damned error
but some sober brow will bless it
and approve it with a text,
hiding the grossness with fair... ornament?
Look on beauty
and you shall see
'tis purchased
by the weight.
Therefore, thou gaudy gold,
I will none of you.
Nor none of you, O pale and common
drudge between man and man.
But you, O meagre lead,
which rather threatenest
than dost promise aught,
your paleness moves me more...
than eloquence.
Here choose I.
Joy be the consequence.
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