And, when she put it on, fhe made me vow,

That I should neither fell, nor give, nor lose it.

Por. That 'fcufe ferves many men to fave their gifts; And if your wife be not a mad woman, And know how well I have deferv'd the ring, She wou'd not hold out enmity for ever,

For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!

[Exit with Neriffa. Ant. My Lord Baffanio, let him have the ring. Let his defervings, and my love withal, Be valu'd 'gainst your wife's commandment.

Baff. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him,
Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou can'ft,
Unto Anthonio's houfe: away, make hafte. [Exit. Gra.
Come, you and I will thither presently;

And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont; come, Anthonio.

Re-enter Portia with Neriffa.

[Exeunt.

Por. Inquire the Jew's houfe out, give him this deed, And let him fign it; we'll away to-night,

And be a day before our husbands home:

This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.

Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Fair Sir, you are well o'erta'en:
My Lord Baffanio, upon more advice,
Hath fent you here this ring, and doth intreat
Your company at dinner.

Por. That cannot be.

This ring I do accept moft thankfully,

And fo, I pray you, tell him; furthermore,
I pray you, fhew my youth old Shylock's houfe.
Gra. That will I do.

Ner. Sir, I would fpeak with you.

I'll fee if I can get my husband's ring:

Which I did make him fwear to keep for ever.
Por. Thou may'ft, I warrant.

[To Por.

We fhall have old

That they did give the rings away to men; [fwearing, But we'll out-face them, and out-fwear them too : Away, make hafte, thou know'ft where I will tarry. Ner. Come, good Sir, will you fhew me to this houfe?

[Exeunt.

ACT

V.

SCENE

I.

Belmont. A grove or green place before Portia's houfe. Enter Lorenzo and Jeffica.

Lor. HE moon shines bright: in fuch a night as

TH

this,

When the fweet wind did gently kifs the trees,
And they did make no noise; in fuch a night
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall;
And figh'd his foul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Creffid lay that night.

Jef. In fuch a night

Did Thisbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew;
And faw the lion's fhadow ere himself,
And ran difmay'd away.

Lor. In fuch a night

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand

Upon the wild fea-banks, and wav'd her love
To come again to Carthage.

Jef. In fuch a night

Medea gather'd the inchanted herbs,
That did renew old Æfon.

Lor. In fuch a night

Did Jeffica fteal from the wealthy Jew,

And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.

Jef. And in fuch a night

Did young Lorenzo fwear he lov'd her well;
Stealing her foul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

Lor. And in fuch a night

Did pretty Jeffica, (like a little fhrew),
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

Jef. I would out-night you, did no body come

But hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter Stephano.

Lor. Who comes fo faft in filence of the night?
Mef. A friend.

Lor. What friend? Your name, I pray you, friend?
VOL. II.

M

.

Mef. Stephano is my name, and I bring word, My mistress will before the break of day

Be here at Belmont: fhe doth ftray about

By holy croffes, where he kneels, and prays,
For happy wedlock hours.

Lor. Who comes with her?

Mef. None but a holy hermit and her maid. I pray you, is niy mafter yet return'd?

Lor. He is not, nor have we yet heard from him. But go we in, I pray thee, Jeffica,

And ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the miftrefs of the house.

Enter Launcelot.

Laun. Sola, fola, wo ha, ho, fola, fola!

Lor. Who calls?

Laun. Sola! did you fee Mafter Lorenzo and Mistress Lorenzo fola, fola!

Lor. Leave hollowing, man: here

Laun. Sola! where? where?

Lor. Here.

Laun. Tell him, there's a poft come from my mafter with his horn full of good news. My mafter will be here ere morning.

Lor. Sweet love, let's in, and there expect their And yet no matter why fhould we go in? [coming. My friend Stephano, fignify, I pray you,

Within the house, your mistress is at hand;

[Exit. Stephano, And bring your mufic forth into the air.

How fweet the moon-light fleeps upon this bank !
Here will we fit, and let the founds of mufic
Creep in our ears; foft ftillness, and the night
Become the touches of fweet harmony.
Sit, Jeffica: look how the floor of heav'n
Is thick inlay'd with patens of bright gold;
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'ft,
But in his motion like an angel fings,

Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims;
Such harmony is in immortal founds!
But whilft this muddy vefture of decay

Doth grofsly clofe us in, we cannot hear it.'

Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your miftrefs' ear,
And draw her home with mufic.

Jef. I'm never merry when I hear fweet mufic.

[Mufic The reafon is, your fpirits are attentive; For do but note a wild and wanton herd,

Lor.

• Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
(Which is the hot condition of their blood),
If they perchance but hear a trumpet found,
Or any air of music touch their ears,
You fhall perceive them make a mutual ftand;
Their favage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,
By the fweet power of mufic.

Therefore the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, ftones, and floods
Since nought fo ftockish, hard, and full of rage,
But mufic for the time doth change his nature.
The man that hath no music in himself,

• Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treafons, ftratagems, and fpoils;
• The motions of his fpirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus :

'Let no fuch man be trufted-Mark the mufic."

Enter Portia and Neriffa.

Por. That light we fee, is burning in my hall : How far that little candle throws his beams!

So fhines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner. When the moon fhone, we did not fee the candle Por. So doth the greater glory dim the lefs A fubftitute fhines brightly as a King, Until a King be by; and then his ftate Empties itself, as doth an inland brook Into the main of waters. Mufic, hark!

[Mufic

Ner. It is the mufic, Madam, of your houfe.
Por. Nothing is good, I fee, without refpect:
Methinks it founds much fweeter than by day.

Ner. Silence beftows the virtue on it, Madam,
Por. The crow doth fing as fweetly as the lark
When neither is attended; and, I think,
The nightingale, if the thould fing by day,

When every goofe is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many things by season seafon'd are
To their right praife, and true perfection?
Peace! how the moon fleeps with Endymion,
And would not be awak'd!

Lor. That is the voice,

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

[Mufic ceafes.

Por. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuc

By the bad voice.

Lor. Dear Lady, welcome home.

[kow,

Por. We have been praying for our husbands healths,

Which speed we hope the better for our words.
Are they return'd?

Lor. Madam, they are not yet;

But there is come a meffenger before,
To fignify their coming.

Por. Go, Neriffa,

Give order to my fervants, that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence;
Nor you, Lorenzo; Jeffica, nor you.

[A tucket founds. Lor. Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet:

We are no tell-tales, Madam, fear you not.

Por. This night, methinks, is but the day-light fick; It looks a little paler; 'tis a day,

Such as the day is when the fun is hid.

Enter Baffanio, Anthonio, Gratiano, and their followers.

If

Baff. We fhould hold day with the Antipodes,

you

would walk in abfence of the fun.

Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light; For a light wife doth make a heavy husband;

And never be Bassanio so from me;

But God fort all! You're welcome home, my Lord. Ba. I thank you, Madam: Give welcome to my This is the man, this is Anthonio,

To whom I am fo infinitely bound.

[friend;

Por. You fhould in all fense be much bound to him; For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.

Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of.

Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house;