His borrow'd purfe. Well, Jeffica, go in;
Perhaps, I will return immediately;

Do, as I bid

you.

Shut the doors after you; faft bind, faft find;

A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind.

[Exit.

Jef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft, I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

[Exit.

SCENE, the STREET.

Enter Gratiano and Salanio in masquerade.

Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo defired us to make a stand.

Sal. His hour is almost past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,

For lovers ever run before the clock.

Sal. Q, ten times fafter Venus' pidgeons fly (7)
To feal love's bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds. Who rifeth from a feaft,
With that keen appetite that he fits down?
Where is the horfe, that doth untread again.
His tedious measures with th' unbated fire,
That he did pace them firft? all things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,

The skarfed bark puts from her native bay,

(7) 0, ten times fafter Venus' Pidgeons fly.] This is a very odd Image, of Venus's Pidgeons flying to feal the Bonds of Love. The Senfe is obvious, and We know the Dignity due to Venus's Pidgeons. There was certainly a Joke intended here, which the Ignorance, or Boldness, of the firft Transcri bers have murder'd: I doubt not, but Shakespeare wrote the

Line thus:

For Widgeon is not only the filly Bird fo call'd, but fignifies likewise, metaphorically, a filly Fellow, as Goose, or Gudgeon, does now.

Mr. Warburton.
Hugg'd

Hugg'd and embraced by the ftrumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth the return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the ftrumpet wind!

Enter Lorenzo.

Sal. Here comes Lorenzo : more of this hereafter.
Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode;
Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait;
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then; come, approach;
Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within ?
Jeffica above, in boy's cloaths.

Jef. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll fwear, that I do know your tongue.
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jef. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed;
For who love I fo much? and now who knows,
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witnefs, that thou

art.

Jef. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the paine.
I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me;
For I am much afham'd of my exchange;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To fee me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Defcend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jef. What muft I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, goodfooth, are too, too, light.
Why, 'tis an office of difcovery, love,
And I fhould be obscur'd.

Lor. So are you, sweet,

Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy.

But come at once

For the clofe night doth play the run-away,
And we are staid for at AC

The Merchant of VENICE.

fome more ducats, and be with you ftrait.

117

[Exit from above. -a. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.

r. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily;

he is wife, if I can judge of her ;
fair fhe is, if that mine eyes be true;
true fhe is, as fhe hath prov'd her self;
therefore like her felf, wife, fair, and true,
fhe be placed in my conftant foul.

Enter Jeffica, to them.

t, art thou come on, gentlemen, away; mafquing mates by this time for us stay. Enter Anthonio.

th. Who's there?

a. Signior Anthonio,

th. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest?
nine o'clock, our friends all stay for you;
nafque to night; the wind is come about,
nio presently will go aboard;

ve fent twenty out to feek for you.
a. I'm glad on't; I defire no more delight
to be under fail, and gone to night.

SCENE changes to Belmont.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

Portia with Morochius, and both their trains.

O, draw afide the curtains, and discover The fevral caskets to this noble Prince. make your choice. [Three caskets are difcover'd. r. The firft of gold, which this infcription bears, chufeth me, shall gain what many men defire. fecond filver, which this promife carries, chufeth m, fhall get as much as he deferves. third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, chufeth me, must give and hazard all he hath. fhall I know, if I do chufe the right?

r. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; u chufe that, then I am yours withal.

Mor

Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me fee, I will furvey th' infcriptions back again;

What fays this leaden casket?

Who chufeth me, muft give and hazard all he bath.
Muft give, for what? for lead? hazard for lead?
This casket threatens. Men, that hazard all,
Do it in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind ftoops not to fhows of drofs;
I'll then not give, nor hazard, aught for lead.
What fays the filver, with her virgin hue?
Who chufeth me, shall get as much as he deferves.
As much as he deferves? pause there, Morochius ;
And weigh thy value with an even hand.
If thou be'ft rated by thy eftimation,
Thou doft deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend fo far as to the lady;
And yet to be afraid of my deferving,
Were but a weak difabling of my felf.

As much as I deferve- -why, that's the lady:
I do in birth deferve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding :
But more than thefe, in love I do deserve.
What if I ftray'd no farther, but chose here?
Let's fee once more this faying grav'd in gold.
Who chufeth me, shall gain what many men defire.
Why, that's the lady; all the world defires her;
From the four corners of the earth they come
To kifs this fhrine, this mortal breathing faint.
Th' Hyrcanian deferts, and the vaftie wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares now,
For Princes to come view fair Portia.
The wat'ry kingdom, whofe ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To ftop the foreign fpirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to fee fair Portia.

One of these three contains her heav'nly picture.
Is't like. that lead contains her ? 'twere damnation.

Being ten times undervalu'd to try'd gold?
O finful thought, never fo rich a gem

Was fet in worse than gold! they have in England
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that's infculpt upon :
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lyes all within. Deliver me the key;
Here do I chufe, and thrive I as I may!

Por. There take it, Prince, and if my form lye

there,

Then I am yours.

[Unlocking the gold casket. Mor. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death, Within whofe empty eye there is a scrowl:

I'll read the writing.

All that glifters is not gold,

Often have you heard that told;
Many a man bis life bath fold,
But my outfide to behold.

Gilded wood may worms infold:
Had you been as wife as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your anfwer had not been infcrol'd;
Fare you well, your fuit is cold.

Mor. Cold, indeed, and labour loft:
Then farewel, heat; and welcome, froft:
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus lofers part.
Por. A gentle riddance: draw the curtains; go-
Let all of his complexion chufe me fo.

Sal.

SCENE changes to Venice.

W

Enter Solarino and Salanio.

[Exit.

-

[Exeunt.

HY, man, I faw Baffanio under fail;
With him is Gratiano gone along;

And in their fhip, I'm fure, Lorenzo is not.

Sola. The villain Few with outcries rais'd the Duke, Who went with him to fearch Bassanio's fhip.

Sal