Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all be bath.
You fhall look fairer, ere I give or hazard.
What fays the golden cheft? ha, let me fee;
Who chufeth me, fhall gain what many men defire.
What many men defire that may be meant
Of the fool-multitude, that chufe by fhow,

Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
Which pry not to th' interior, but like the martlet
Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Ev'n in the force and road of casualty.

I will not chuse what many men desire,
Because I will not jump with common fpirits,
And rank me with the barb'rous multitudes.
Why then to thee, thou filver treasure-house :
Tell me once more, what title thou doft bear.
Who chufeth me, shall get as much as he deferves;
And well faid too, for who fhall go about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit? let none prefume
To wear an undeferved dignity:

O that eftates, degrees, and offices,

Were not deriv'd corruptly, that clear honour
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
How many then should cover, that stand bare?
How many be commanded, that command?
How much low peafantry would then be gleaned
From the true feed of honour? how much honour (13)
Pickt

(13)

how much honour

Pick'd from the Chaff and Ruin of the Times,

To be new varnish'd.] Mr. Warburton very juftly obferv'd to me upon the Confufion and Difagreement of the Metaphors here; and is of Opinion, that Shakespeare might have wrote;

To be new vanned.

i. e. winnow'd, purged: from the French Word, vanner; which is deriv'd from the Latin, Vannus, ventilabrum, the Fann used for winnowing the Chaff from the Corn. This Alteration, as he obferves, reftores the Metaphor to its Integrity and our Poet frequently uses the fame Thought. So, in the 2d Part of Henry IV.

We shall be winnow'd with fo rough a Wind,
That ev'n our Corn fhall feem as light as Chaff.

And, again, in K. Henry V.

Such, and fo finely boulted did ft thou feem,

D 3

for

Pickt from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be new varnish'd? well, but to my choice:
Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he deferves:
I will affume defert; give me a key for this,
And inftantly unlock my fortunes here.

Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there.
[Unlocking the filver casket.
Ar. What's here! the portrait of a blinking idiot,
Presenting me a schedule? I will read it:
How much unlike art thou to Portia ?

How much unlike my hopes and my defervings?
Who chufes me, fhall have as much as he deferves.
Did I deferve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize? are my deserts no better?
Por. To offend, and judge, are diftinct offices,
And of oppofed natures.

Ar. What is here?

The fire fev'n times tried this;

Sev'n times tried that judgment is,

That did never chufe amifs.

Some there be, that fhadows kifs;
Such have but a shadow's blifs:
There be fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd o'er, and fo was this:
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So be gone, Sir, you are fped.

Ar. Still more fool I fhall appear,

By the time I linger here:

With one fool's head I came to woo,

But I go away with two.

Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath,

Patiently to bear my wroth.

[Exit.

Por. Thus hath the candle fing'd the moth:

O thefe deliberate fools! when they do chufe,
They have the wifdom by their wit to lose.

for boulted fignifies fifted, refin'd. The Correction is truly ingenious, and probable: But as Shakespeare is fo loofe and licentious in the blending of different Metaphors, I have not ventur'd to disturb the Text.

Ner.

Ner. The ancient faying is no herefy,
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
Enter a Servant.

Serv. Where is my lady?

Por. Here, what would my lord?

Serv. Madam, there is alighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before
To fignify th' approaching of his lord,
From whom he bringeth fenfible regreets;
To wit, befides commends and courteous breath,
Gifts of rich value; yet, I have not seen
So likely an ambassador of love.

A day in April never came fo fweet,
To fhow how coftly fummer was at hand,
As this fore-fpurrer comes before his lord.
Por. No more, I pray thee; I am half afraid,
Thou'lt say anon, he is fome kin to thee;
Thou fpend'ft fuch high-day wit in praifing him;
Come, come, Nerissa, for I long to fee
Quick Cupid's poft, that comes fo mannerly.
Ner. Baffanio, lord Love, if thy will it be! (14)
[Exeunt.

(14) Baffanio Lord, love, if Mr. Pope, and all the preceding Editors
have follow'd this pointing; as imagining, I fuppofe, that Bassanio lord-
means, Lord Baffanio; but Lord must be coupled to Love: as if the had
faid,
Imperial Love, if it be thy Will, let it be Bassanie whom this
"Meffenger fore-runs.

[ocr errors]
[blocks in formation]

ACT

III.

SCENE, a Street in VENICE.

N

Enter Salanio and Solarino.

SOLARIN O.

OW, what news on the Ryalto?

Sal. Why yet it lives there uncheckt, that Anthonio hath a ship of rich lading wrackt on the narrow feas; the Godwins, I think, they call the place; a very dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcafes of many a tall fhip lye bury'd, as they fay, if my goffip Report be an honeft woman of her word.

Sola. I would fhe were as lying a goffip in that, as ever knapt ginger; or made her neighbours believe, the wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true, without any flips of prolixity, or crofling the plain high-way of talk, that the good Anthonio, the honest Anthonio O that I had a title good enough to !

keep his name company Sal. Come, the full ftop.

Sola. Ha, what fay'ft thou? why the end is, he hath loft a ship.

Sal. I would, it might prove the end of his loffes. Sola. Let me fay Amen betimes, left the devil cross thy prayer, (15) for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. How now, Shylock, what news among the mer

chants?

Enter Shylock.

Shy. You knew (none fo well, none fo well as you) of my daughter's flight.

[ocr errors]

(15) left the Devil cross my Prayer.] But the Prayer was Salanio's. The other only, as Clerk, fays Amen to it. We must therefore read

thy Prayer.

Mr. Warburton,

Sal,

Sal. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the taylor that made the wings the flew withal.

Sola. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledg'd, and then it is the complection of them all to leave the dam.

Shy. She is damn'd for it.

Sal. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge. Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel!

Sola. Out upon it, old carrion, rebels it at these years?

Shy. I fay, my daughter is my flesh and blood.

Sal. There is more difference between thy flesh and hers, than between jet and ivory; more between your bloods, than there is between red wine and rhenish : but tell us, do you hear, whether Anthonio have had lofs at fea or no?

any

the

Shy. There I have another bad match; a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dares fcarce fhew his head on the Ryalto; a beggar, that us'd to come fo fmug upon mart! let him look to his bond; he was wont to call me ufurer; let him look to his bond; he was wont to lend money for a chriftian courtefie; let him look to his bond.

Sal. Why, I am fure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flesh what's that good for?

Shy. To bait fish withal. If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge; he hath difgrac'd me, and hinder'd me half a million, laught at my loffes, mockt at my gains, fcorn'd my nation, thwarted my bargains, cool'd my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reason? I am a few. Hath not a few eyes? hath not a few hands, organs, dimenfions, fenfes, affections, paffions? fed with the fame food, hurt with the fame weapons, fubject to the fame difeafes, heal'd by the fame means, warm'd and cool'd by the fame winter and fummer, as a chriftian is? if you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poifon us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, fhall we not revenge? if we are like you in the reft, we will resemble you in that. If a few wrong a

christian,

« ZurückWeiter »