DRAMATIS PERSONE.

DUKE of Venice.

Morochius, a Moorish Prince,

Prince of Arragon,

Anthonio, the Merchant of Venice.

Baffanio, bis Friend, in love with Portia.

Salanio,

Suiters to Portia.

Solarino, Friends to Anthonio and Baffanio.

Gratiano,

Lorenzo, in love with Jeffica,

Shylock, a Jew.

Tubal, a Jew, bis Friend.

Launcelot, a Clown, Servant to the Jew.

Gobbo, an old Man, Father to Launcelot.

Leonardo, Servant to Baffanio.

Balthazar, Servant to Portia.

Portia, an Heirefs of great Quality and Fortune.

Neriffa, Confident to Portia.

Jeffica, Daughter to Shylock.

Senators of Venice, Officers, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants.

SCENE partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the \Seat of Portia upon the Continent.

THE

THE

MERCHANT of VENICE.

ACTI. SCENE I

Enter Anthonio, Solarino, and Salanio.

ANTHONI O.

N footh I know not why I am fo fad:
It wearies me; you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn-

And fuch a want-wit fadnefs makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.

Sal. Your mind is toffing on the ocean.
There where your Argofies with portly fail,
Like figniors and rich burghers on the flood,
Or as it were the pageants of the sea,
Do over-peer the petty traffickers

affections would

That curtfie to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
Sola. Believe me, Sir, had I fuch 'ventures forth,
The better part
Be with my hopes aboard. I fhould be still
Plucking the grafs, to know where fits the wind,
A 3

of my

Prying

1 venture

Prying in maps for ports, and peers, and roads;
And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
Would make me fad.

Sal. My wind cooling my broth

Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at fea.
I should not fee the fandy hour-glass run,
But I should think of fhallows and of flats,
And fee my wealthy 'Arg'fie dock'd in fand,
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs,
To kifs her burial. Should I go to church
And see the holy edifice of stone,

2

And not bethink me ftrait of dang'rous rocks?
Which touching but my gentle veffel's fide,
Would scatter all the fpices on the stream,
Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks;
And in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought
To think on this, and fhall I lack the thought,
That fuch a thing bechanc'd would make me fad?
But tell not me, I know Anthonio

Is fad to think upon his merchandize.

Anth. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,

Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate

Upon the fortune of this present year:
Therefore my merchandize makes me not fad.
Sola. Why then you are in love.

3

Anth. 'Fie, fie, away!`

Sola. Not in love neither! then let's fay you're fad, Because you are not merry; 'twere as easy

For you to laugh and leap, and fay you're merry,
'Cause you're not fad. Now by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd ftrange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper;

And

And others of fuch vinegar afpect,

That they'll not fhow their teeth in way of fmile,
Though Neftor fwear the jeft be laughable.

Enter Baffanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano.

Sal. Here comes Baffanio your moft noble kinfman, Gratiano and Lorenzo: fare ye well;

We leave you now with better company.

Sola. I would have ftaid 'till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard:
I take it your own bufinefs calls on you,
And you embrace th' occafion to depart.
Sal. Good morrow, my good Lords.

[when?

Baff. Good Signiors both, when fhall we laugh? fay You grow exceeding ftrange; muft it be fo?

Sal. We'll make our leifures to attend on yours.
Sola. My lord Ballanio, fince you've found Anthonio,

We two will leave you; but at dinner-time,

I

pray you have in mind where we must meet.

Baff. I will not fail you. [Exeunt Solar, and Sala,
Gra. You look not well, fignior Anthonio;
You have too much refpect upon the world:
They lose it, that do buy it with much care.
Believe me, you are marvelloufly chang'd.

Anth. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,
A ftage where every man must play his part;
And mine's` a fad one.

Gra. Let me play the fool

With mirth and laughter; 'fo let wrinkles come,
And let my liver rather heat with wine,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why fhould a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandfire cut in Alabaster?

Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Anthonio,
(I love thee, and 'tis my love that speaks:)

A 4

There