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Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house.-By Jacob's staff I swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
But I will go.-Go you before me, sirrah:
Say, I will come.

Laun. I will go before, sir.-
Mistress, look out at window, for all this;

There will come a Christian by,

Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit Laun. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, 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,

Shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit.
Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit.

SCENE VI.-The same.

Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lo

renzo

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.

Salar. 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,

VOL. I.

I'll watch as long for you then.-Approach; Here dwells my father Jew:-Ho! who's within? Enter JESSICA above, in boy's clothes.

Jes. Who are you? Tell me, for more cer◄
tainty,

Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue.
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

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 torchbearer.

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 obscured.

Lor. So are you, sweet,
Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once;

For the close night doth play the runaway,
And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast.

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild my-
self

With some more ducats, and be with you straight. [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 prov'd herself; And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

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Being ten times undervalued to try'd gold?

SCENE VII.-Belmont. A room in Portia's O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem

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I will survey the inscriptions back again:
What says this leaden casket?

Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
Must 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 stoops not to shows of dross;
I'll then nor give, nor hazard, aught for lead.
What says the silver, with her virgin hue?
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
As much as he deserves?-Pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand:
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
And yet to be afeard of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of myself.

As much as I deserve!-Why, that's the lady;
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding;
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no further, but chose here?
Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold:
Who choos: th me, shall gain what many men desire.
Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her:
From the four corners of the earth they come,
To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint.
The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia :
The wat'ry kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
Is't like, that lead contains her? 'Twere dam-
nation,

To think so base a thought; it were too gross
To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think, in silver she's immur'd,

Was set in worse than gold. They have in England

A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold; but that's insculp'd upon;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within.-Deliver me the key;
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!

Por. There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there,

Then I am yours. He unlocks the golden casket.
Mor. O hell! what have we here?
A carrion death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll? I'll read the writing.

All that glisters is not gold,
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold,
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms infold.
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscrol'd:

Fare you well; your suit is cold.

Cold, indeed; and labour lost;

Then, farewell, heat; and, welcome, frost.Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. [Erit. Por. A gentle riddance :-Draw the curtains,

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But there the duke was given to understand,
That in a gondola were seen together
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica :
Besides, Antonio certify'd the duke,
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

Salan. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets:
My daughter!-O my ducats!-Omy daughter!
Fled with a Christian ?—O my christian ducats!
Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels; two stones, two rich and precious

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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'd 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.

I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:
Bassanio told him, he would make some speed
Of his return; he answer'd-Do not so,
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time;
And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love:
Be merry; and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtship, and such fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently become you there:
And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wondrous sensible
He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted.
Salan. I think, he only loves the world for

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Enter NERISSA, with a Servant.

Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain straight;

The prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath,
And comes to his election presently.

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, Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd; But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, You must be gone from hence immediately.

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
Of the right casket, never in my life
To woo a maid in way of marriage; lastly,
If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave you and begone.

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 To my heart's hope!-Gold, silver, and base lead. Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. You shall look fairer, ere I give, or hazard. What says the golden chest? ha! let me see:Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire.

What many men desire? That many may be

meant

By the fool multitude, that choose by show,
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
Which pries not to the interior, but, like the
martlet,

Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Even in the force and road of casualty.
I will not choose what many men desire,
Because I will not jump with common spirits,
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house;
Tell me once more what title thou dost bear:
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
And well said too: For who shall go about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit! Let none presume
To wear an undeserved dignity.

O, that estates, degrees, and offices,
Were not deriv'd corruptly! and that clear ho

nour

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 peasantry would then be glean'd
From the true seed of honour? and how much
honour

Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be new varnish'd? Well, but to my choice:
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
I will assume desert :-Give me the key for this,
And instantly unlock my fortunes here.

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?

How much unlike my hopes, and my deservings?
Who chooseth me, shall have as much as he deserves.
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize? are my deserts no better?
Por. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices,
And of opposed natures.

Ar. What is here?

The fire seven times tried this;
Seven times tried that judgment is,
That did never choose amiss:
Some there be, that shadows kiss;
Such have but a shadow's bliss:
There be fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd d'er; and so was this

Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So begone, sir, you are sped.

Still more fool I shall 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.

[Exeunt Arragon, and Train. Por. Thus hath the candle sing'd 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 ;—
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 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!
[Exeunt.

SCENE I-Venice. A street.

Enter SALANIO and SALARINO.

Salan. Now, what news on the Rialto?

ACT III.

alar. 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 neighbours 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 Antonio, the honest Antonio, -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.

How now, Shylock? what news among the merchants?

Shy. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my daughter's flight.

Salar. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the tailor that made the wings she flew withal. Salan. And Shylock, for his own part, knew

the bird was fledg'd; and then it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam.

Shy. She is damn'd for it.

Salar. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge.

Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel! Salan. Out upon it, old carrion! rebels it at 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, warned 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 villainy, 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 TURAL.

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 what lights o' my shoulders; no sighs, but o' my 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 Tripolis.

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 shewed me a ring, that he had of your daughter for a monkey.

Shy. Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal: it was my turquoise; I had it of Leah, when I was a bachelor: I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkies.

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.
Por. I pray you, tarry; pause a day or two,
Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong,
I lose your company; therefore, forbear a while:
There's something tells me, (but it is not love,)
I would not lose you; and you know yourself,
Hate counsels not in such a quality:
But lest you should not understand me well,
(And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,)
I would detain you here some month or two,
Before you venture for me.
I could teach you
How to choose right, but then I am forsworn ;
So will I never be so may you miss me;
But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin,
That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes,
They have o'er-look'd me, and divided me;
One half of me is yours, the other half yours,—
Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours,
And so all yours: O! these naughty times
Put bars between the owners and their rights;
And so, though yours, not yours.-Prove it so,
Let fortune go to hell for it,-not I.

I speak too long; but 'tis to peize the time;
To eke it, and to draw it out in length,
To stay you from election.

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: There may as well be amity and life 'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love.

Por. Ay, but I fear, you speak upon the rack,
Where men enforced do speak any thing.
Bass. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth,
Por. Well then, confess, and live.
Bass. Confess, and love,

Had been the very sum of my confession :
O happy torment, when my torturer
Doth teach me answers for deliverance!
But let me to my fortune and the caskets.

Por. Away then: I am lock'd in one of them;
If you do love me, you will find me out.-
Nerissa, and the rest, stand all aloof.—
Let musick sound, while he doth make his choice;

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