Nor to one place; nor is my whole eftate Sol. Why then you are in love. Ant. Fie, fie! Sol. Not in love neither? Then let's fay, you're fad, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy For you to laugh, and leap, and say you're merry, Because you are not fad. Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: That they'll not fhow their teeth in way of fmile, Sala. Here comes Baffanio, your most noble kinfman, Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well; We leave you now with better company. Sol. I would have staid till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. B 2 Ant. Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own bufinefs calls on you, you embrace th' occafion to depart. And Enter BASSANIO, GRATIANO and LORENZO. Sala. Good morrow, my good lords. Bass. Good fignors both, when shall we laugh? fay, when? You grow exceeding strange; Muft it be fo? Lor. My lord Baffanio, fince you've found We two will leave you: but, at dinner time, Bass. I will not fail you. Gra. You look not well, fignor Antonio; Ant. I hold the world, but as the world, A stage, where every man must play a part, Gra. Let me play the Fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandfire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond; I'll tell thee more of this another time: Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner- I must be one of these fame dumb wife men, Gra. Well; keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the found of thine own tongue. Ant. Ant. Farewell; I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for filence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dry'd, and a maid not vendible. (Exeunt GRA. and LOREN. Ant. Is that any thing now? Bass. Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice: His reafons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bufhels of chaff; you fhall feek all day ere you find them; and when you have them, they are not worth the fearch. Ant. Well, tell me now, what lady is this fame, Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, T'un T'unburthen all my plots, and purposes, Ant. I pray you, good Baffanio, let me know it; And, if it stand, as you yourself still do, Within the eye of honor, be affur'd, My purse, my perfon, my extremeft means, Bass. In my school-days, when I had loft one fhaft, I shot his fellow of the self-fame flight The self-fame way, with more advised watch, I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth, And thankfully reft debtor for the first. Ant. You know me well; and herein spend but time, To wind about my love with circumstance; And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, In making question of my uttermoft, Than if you had made waste of all I have. Then |