ACT I. SCENE I.-Venice. A Street. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; That curt'sy to them, do them reverence, Solan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought Is sad to think upon his merchandize. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this present year : Therefore, my merchandize makes me not sad. Salar. Why then you are in love. Ant. Salar. Not in love neither? Then let us say, you are sad Fye, fye! Because you are not merry: an 't were as easy Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano. Solan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano, and Lorenzo : Fare you well; Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. You grow exceeding strange : Must it be so? Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; Gra. If they should speak, would almost damn those ears Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time: Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i' faith; for silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. [Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo. Ant. Is that any thing now? Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice His reasons are two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them; and when you have them they are not worth the search. Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is the same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, That you to-day promis'd to tell me of? Bass. 'T is not unknown to you, Antonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, By something showing a more swelling port Than my faint means would grant continuance : Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd From such a noble rate; but my chief care Is to come fairly off from the great debts Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; My purse, my person, my extremest means, Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one I shot his fellow of the self-same flight [shaft The self-same way, with more advised watch, Ant. You know me well; and herein spend but Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, O, my Antonio! had I but the means Ant. Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at sea; SCENE II.-Belmont. [Exeunt. A Room in Portia's House. Enter Portia and Nerissa. Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world. Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing: It is no small happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean: superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. Ner. They would be better, if well followed. Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree : such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good council the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband :-O me, the word choose! I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead father :-Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none? Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men at their death have good inspirations; therefore, the lottery that he hath devised in these three chests, of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you,) will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come? Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou namest them I will describe them; and according to my description level at my affection. Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. Por. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe him himself: I am much afraid my lady his mother played false with a smith. say, Ner. Then, is there the county Palatine. Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who should 'An you will not have me, choose :' he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather to be married to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, than to either of these. God defend me from these two! [Le Bon? Ner. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass for In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker. But, he! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's; a better bad habit of frowning than the count Palatine: he is every man in no man: if a throstle sing he falls straight a capering; he will fence with his own shadow: if I should marry him I should marry twenty husbands: If he would despise me I would forgive him; for if he love me to madness I shall never requite him. a man. Ner. What say you then to Faulconbridge, the young baron of England? Por. You know I say nothing to him; for he understands not me, nor I him : he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you will come into the court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's picture. But, alas! who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour everywhere. Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour? Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again when he was 2 : able I think the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another. Ner. How like you the young German, the duke of Saxony's nephew? Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk : when he is best he is a little worse than a man ; and when he is worst he is little better than a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without him. Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will if you should refuse to accept him. Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket for, if the devil be within, and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge. Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords; they have acquainted me with their determinations: which is, indeed, to return to their home and to trouble you with no more suit; unless you may be won by some other sort than your father's imposition, depending on the caskets. Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla I will die as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's will: I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable; for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I wish them a fair departure. Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, that came hither in company of the marquis of Montferrat? [he called. Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so was Ner. True, madam; he, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady. Por. I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of thy praise. Enter a Servant. Serv. The four strangers seek you, madam, to take their leave: and there is a fore-runner come from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco; who brings word the prince, his master, will be here to-night. Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his approach: if he have the condition of a saint, and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me.Come, Nerissa. Sirrah, go before; Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door. [Exeunt. he is sufficient yet his means are in supposition. he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand moreover upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England; and other ventures he hath, squander'd abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats and water-rats, water-thieves and landthieves; I mean, pirates; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks: The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient ;-three thousand ducats ;-I think I may take his bond. Bass. Be assured you may. Shy. I will be assured I may; and that I may be assured I will bethink me: May I speak with AnBass. If it please you to dine with us. [tonio? Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into! I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto ?-Who is he comes here? Enter Antonio. Bass. This is signior Antonio. Shy. [Aside.] How like a fawning publican he I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. I cannot instantly raise up the gross Of full three thousand ducats: What of that? [To Antonio Your worship was the last man in our mouths. Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. Ant. And for three months. Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told me so. Well then, your bond; and, let me see. But hear you: Methought you said, you neither lend nor borrow, Upon advantage. Ant. I do never use it. Shy. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep, This Jacob from our holy Abraham was (As his wise mother wrought in his behalf) The third possessor; ay, he was the third. Ant. And what of him? did he take interest? Shy. No, not take interest; not, as you would say, Directly interest: mark what Jacob did. When Laban and himself were compromis'd That all the eanlings which were streak'd and pied Should fall, as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being rank, In end of autumn turned to the rams: And when the work of generation was Between these woolly breeders in the act, The skilful shepherd pill'd me certain wands, ད And, in the doing of the deed of kind, He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes ; Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for; [sum. Ant. A cur can lend three thousand ducats?' or 'Fair sir, you spet on me on Wednesday last; Ant. I am as like to call thee so again, As to thy friends; (for when did friendship take Who, if he break, thou may'st with better face Shy. Of usance for my monies, and you'll not hear me : Go with me to a notary: seal me there In such a place, such sum, or sums, as are Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken Ant. Content, in faith; I'll seal to such a bond, And say there is much kindness in the Jew. Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me; I'll rather dwell in my necessity. Ant. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it; Within these two months, that's a month before This bond expires, I do expect return Of thrice three times the value of this bond. Shy. O father Abraham, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man, ACT II. [Exit. SCE NE I.-Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Flourish of Cornets. Enter the Prince of Morocco, and his Train; Portia, Nerissa, and other of her Attendants. Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion, Mor. I would o'er-stare the sternest eyes that look, |