Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, Laun. ha? Jes. His words were, Farewell mistress; nothing else. Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder, Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day More than the wild-cat; drones hive not with me; Therefore I part with him; and part with him To one that I would have him help to waste His borrow'd purse.-Well, Jessica, go in; Perhaps, I will return immediately; Do, as I bid you, Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masked. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Desir'd us to make stand. Salar. His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont, To keep obliged faith unforfeited! Gra. That ever holds: Who riseth from a feast, With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again His tedious measures with the unbated fire That he did pace them first? All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker, or a prodigal, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay! Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return; With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! Enter LORENZO. Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait; Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed; For who love I so much? And now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou art. Jes. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains. I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much asham'd of my exchange: But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit: For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy. Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light. Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love; And I should be obscur'd. Lor. Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast. With some more ducats, and be with you straight. Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself [Exit, from above. Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew. Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily: For she is wise, if I can judge of her; And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true; And true she is, as she hath proved herself; And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Shall she be placed in my constant soul. Enter JESSICA, below. What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away; Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. [Exit, with JESSICA and SALARINO. Enter ANTONIO. Ant. Who's there? Gra. Signior Antonio?" Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano! where are all the rest? 'Tis nine o'clock: our friends all stay for you:No masque to-night; the wind is come about, Bassanio presently will go aboard: I have sent twenty out to seek for you. Than to be under sail, and gone to-night. [Exeunt. Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight, SCENE VII-Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Flourish of Cornets. Enter PoRTIA, with the Mor. The first, of gold, which this inscription bears; Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. The second, silver, which this promise carries;Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt Salar. Here comes Lorenzo;-more of this Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. hereafter. How shall I know if I do choose the right? If Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince; you choose that, then I am yours withal. Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see, Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross: As much as I deserve!-Why, that's the lady: In But more than these, in love I do deserve. One of these three contains her heavenly picture. Mor. All that glisters is not gold, Then, farewell, heat; and, welcome, frost.- Let all of his complexion choose me so. [Exeunt. • Enclose. SCENE VIII.-Venice. A Street. Enter SALARINO and SALANIO. Salar. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail; With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship, I am sure, Lorenzo is not. Salan. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the duke; Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship. Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter! And jewels; two stones, two rich and precious stones, Stol'n by my daughter!-Justice! find the girl! She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats! Salar. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats. Salan. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, Or he shall pay for this. Salar. Marry, well remember'd: I reason'ds with a Frenchman yesterday; Who told me,-in the narrow seas, that part The French and English, there miscarried A vessel of our country, richly fraught: I thought upon Antonio, when he told me; And wish'd in silence, that it were not his. Salan. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear; Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him. Salar. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted. Salar. Do we so. [Exeunt. SCENE IX.-Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Enter NERISSA, with a Servant. Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain straight; The prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath, Flourish of Cornets. Enter the Prince of Arragon, PORTIA, and their Trains. Por. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince. If you choose that wherein I am contain`d, Ar. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things: First, never to unfold to any one Which casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail To woo a maid in way of marriage; lastly, Por. To these injunctions every one doth swear, That comes to hazard for my worthless self. Ar. And so have I address'd' me: Fortune now O, that estates, degrees, and offices, Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there. 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 ! SCENE I-Venice. A Street. Enter SALANIO and SALARINO. your There be fools alive, I wis [Exeunt Arragon, and Train. Por. Thus hath the candle singed the moth. O these deliberate fools! when they do choose, They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. Ner. The ancient saying is no heresy ;- 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 signify the approaching of his lord: From whom he bringeth sensible regreets;* To wit, besides commends, and courteous breath, Gifts of rich value; yet I have not seen So likely an embassador of love: A day in April never came so sweet, To show how costly summer was at hand, As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. Por. No more, I pray thee; I am half afeard, Thou wilt say anon, he is some kin to thee, Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him.— Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see Quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly. Ner. Bassanio, lord love, if thy will it be! АСТ III. Salan. Now, what news on the Rialto? Salar. Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd, that Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow seas; the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the carcases of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip report be an honest woman of her word. Salan. I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever knapp'd ginger, or made her neighbors believe she wept for the death of a third husband: But it is true, without any slips of prolixity, or crossing the plain high-way of talk,-that the good 2 Agree. 1 Prepared. Antonio, the honest Antonio, [Exeunt. -O that I had a title good enough to keep his name company!— Salar. Come, the full stop. Salan. Ha,-what say'st thou ?-Why the end is, he hath lost a ship. Salar. I would it might prove the end of his losses! Salan. Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil cross my prayer; for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. Enter SHYLOCK. Salar. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the | what lights o' my shoulders; no sighs, but o' my tailor that made the wings she flew withal. breathing; no tears, but o' my shedding. Tub. Yes, other men have ill luck too; Antonio, as I heard in Genoa,— Shy. What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck? Tub. hath an argosy cast away, coming from Salar. That's certain, if the devil may be her Tripolis. Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel! these years? Shy. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. Salar. 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 Antonio have had any loss at sea or no? Shy. There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto;a beggar, that used to come so smug upon the mart;-let him look to his bond: he was wont to call me usurer;-let him look to his bond: he was wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy; -let him look to his bond. Salar. Why, I am sure, 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 disgraced me, and hindered me of 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 villany you teach me, I will execute; and it shall go hard, but I will better the instruction. Enter a Servant. Serv. Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his house, and desires to speak with you both. Salar. We have been up and down to seek him. Enter TUBAL. Salan. Here comes another of the tribe; a third cannot be matched, unless the devil himself turn Jew. [Exeunt SALAN., SALAR., and Servant. Shy. How now, Tubal, what news from Genoa? hast thou found my daughter? Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her. Shy. Why there, there, there, there! a diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! The curse never fell upon our nation till now; I never felt it till now:-two thousand ducats in that; and other precious, precious jewels. I would, my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear! 'would she were hears'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin! No news of them ?-Why, so:-and I know not what's spent in the search: Why, thou loss upon loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge: nor no ill luck stirring, but Shy. I thank God, I thank God:-Is it true? is it true? Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck. Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal;-Good news, good news: ha! ha!-Where? in Genoa? Tub. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night, fourscore ducats. Shy. Thou stick'st a dagger in me:- -I shall never see my gold again: Fourscore ducats at a sitting! fourscore ducats. Tub. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break. Shy. I am very glad of it: I'll plague him; I'll torture him; I am glad of it. Tub. One of them showed me a ring, that he had of your daughter for a monkey. Shy. Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal : it was my torquoise; I had it of Leah, when I was a bachelor: I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys. Tub. But Antonio is certainly undone. Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true: Go, Tubal, fee me an officer, bespeak him a fortnight before: I will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for were he out of Venice, I can make what merchandize I will; Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue; go, good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and Attendants. The caskets are set out. I speak too long: but 'tis to peize the time; Bass. Let me choose; For, as I am, I live upon the rack. Por. Upon the rack, Bassanio? then confess What treason there is mingled with your love. Bass. None, but that ugly treason of mistrust, Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love: A precious stone. • Delay. There may as well be amity and life Bass. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth. The scull that bred them, in the sepulchre. The seeming truth which cunning times put on Had been the very sum of my confession: Por. Away then: I am lock'd in one of them; Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge Por. How all the other passions fleet to air, What find I here? [Opening the leaden casket. The continent and summary of my fortune. You that choose not by the view, Be content and seek no new. If you be well pleas'd with this, A gentle scroll;-Fair lady, by your leave; [Kissing her. Bass. So may the outward shows be least I come by note, to give and to receive. themselves; The world is still deceiv'd with ornament. Like one of two contending in a prize, As doubtful whether what I see be true, Por. You see me, lord Bassanio, where I stand, That only to stand high on your account, Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, Happy in this she is not yet so old Upon supposed fairness, often known To be the dowry of a second head; But she may learn; and happier than this, |