Sola. I would have ftaid 'till I had made you merry,
If worthier Friends had not prevented me.

Anth. Your Worth is very dear in my Regard:
I take it your own Bufinefs calls on you,
And you embrace th' Occafion to depart.

Sal. Good Morrow, my good Lords.

Baff. Good Signiors both, when fhall we laugh? fay when? You grow exceeding ftrange; muft it be fo?

Sal. We'll make our Leifures to attend on yours. 1

Sola. My Lord Bassanio, fince you have found Anthonia, We two will leave you; but at Dinner Time,

I pray you have in mind where we must meet.
Baff. I will not fail you.

[Exeunt Solar. and Sala.
Gra. You look not well, Signior Anthonio;
You have too much Refpect upon the World:
They lofe it that do buy it with much Care.
Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.

Anth. I hold the World but as the World, Gratiane;
A Stage where every Man must play his Part;
And mine a fad one.

Gra. Let me play the Fool

With Mirth and Laughter; let old Wrinkles come,
And let my Liver rather heat with Wine,
Than my Heart cool with mortifying Groans:
Why should a Man, whofe Blood is warm within,
Sit like his Grandfire cut in Alablafter?
Sleep when he walkes, and creep into the Jaundies
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Anthonio,
I love thee, and it is my Love that speaks:
There are a fort of Men, whofe Vifages
Do cream and mantle like a standing Pond,
And do a wilful Stilnefs entertain,
With purpose to be dreft in an Oponion
Of Wisdom, Gravity, profound Conceit,
As who fhould fay, I am, Sir, an Oracle;
And when I ope my 'Lips, let no Dog bark.
O my Anthonio, I do know of thefe,
That therefore only are reputed Wife,
For faying nothing; who I am very fure,

If they fhould fpeak, would almost damn thofe Ears,

Which hearing them, would call their Brothers Fools.
I'll tell thee more of this another time:
But fish not with this melancholly Bait,
For this Fool Gudgeon, this Opinion.
Come good Lorenzo, fare ye well a while,
I'll end my Exhortation after Dinner.

Lor. Well, we will leave you then 'till Dinner-time.
I must be one of these same dumb wife Men;
For Gratiano never lets me speak.

Gra. Well, keep me Company but two Years more,
Thou shalt not know the Sound of thine own Tongue.
Anth. Fare you well; I'll grow a Talker for this Gear.
Gra. Thanks i'faith; for Silence is only commendable
In a Neats Tongue dry'd, and a Maid not vendible. [Exit.
Anth. Is that any thing now?

:

Baff. Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any Man in all Venice his Reafons are two Grains of Wheat hid in two Bushels of Chaff; you may feek all Day e'er you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the Search.

Anth. Well; tell me now what Lady is the fame
To whom you fwore a fecret Pilgrimage,
That you to Day promis'd to tell me of?
Baff. 'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio,
How much I have difabled mine Eftate,
By something fhewing a more fwelling Port
Than my faint Means would grant continuance to;
Nor do I now make Moan to be abridg'd
From fuch a noble Rate; but my chief Care
Is to come fairly off from the great Debts
Wherein my time, fomething too prodigal,
Hath left me gag'd: To you, Anthonio,
I owe the most in Mony, and in Love,
And from your Love I have a Warranty
To unburthen all my Plots and Purposes,
How to get clear of all the Debts I owe.

Anth. I pray you, gcod Bassanio, let me know it,
And if it ftands as you your felf fill do,
Within the Eye of Hor our, be affur'd

My Purfe, my Perfon, my extreameft Means
Lye all unlock'd to your Occafións.

Ball.

Baff. In my School-Days, when I had loft one Shaft,
Ifhot his Fellow of the felf-fame Flight

The felf-fame way, with more advised Watch,
To find the other forth; and by adventuring both,
I oft found both. I urge this Child-hood Proof,
Because what follows is pure Innocence.

I owe you much, and like a wilful Youth,
That which I owe is loft; but if you please
To fhoot another Arrow that felf way
Which you did shoot the firft, I do not doubt,
As I will watch the Aim, or to find both,
Or bring your latter Hazard back again,
And thankfully reft Debtor for the first.

Anth. You know me well, and herein spend but Time
To wind about my Love with Circumstance;
And out of doubt you do to me more Wrong,
In making Queftion of my uttermoft,

Than if you had made wafte of all I have:
Then do but fay to me, what should I do,
That in your Knowledge may by me be done,
And I am preft unto it: Therefore speak.
Baff. In Belmont is a Lady richly left,
And he is fair, and fairer than that Word,
Of wondrous Virtues; Sometimes from her Eyes
I did receive fair fpeechlefs Meffages;
Her Name is Portia, nothing undervalu'd
To Cato's Daughter, Brutus Portia :

Nor is the wide World ignorant of her Worth;
For the four Winds blow in from every Coaft
Renowned Sutors; and her funny Locks

Hang on her Temples like a golden Fleece,
Which makes her Seat of Belmont Cholches Strond,
And many Jafons come in queft of her.
O my Anthonio, had I but the Means
To hold a rival Place with one of them,
I have a Mind prefages me fuch Thrift,

That I fhould queftionless be fortunate.

Anth. Thou know'ft that all my Fortunes are at Sea, Neither have I Mony, nor Commodity

To raise a prefent Sum? therefore go forth,

Try what my Credit can in Venice do;

VOL. II.

F

That

That thall be rack'd even to the uttermoft,
→To furnish thee to Belmont to fair Portia:
Go prefently enquire, and fo will I,
Where Mony is, and I no queftion make
To have it of my Truft, or for my

lake.

SCENE II. Belmont.

[Exeunt.

Three Caskets are fet out, one of Gold, another of Silvers
and another of Lead.

Enter Portia and Nerissa.

Por. By my Troth, Neriffa, my little Body is weary of this great World.

Ner. You would be, fweet Madam, if your Miferies were in the fame Abundance as your good Fortunes are; and yet, for ought I fee,thay are as fick that furfeit with too much, as they that ftarve with nothing; therefore, it is no small Happiness to be feated in the Mean; Superfluity comes fooner by white Hairs, but Competency lives longer.

Por. Good Sentences, and well pronounc'd.

Ner. They would be better, if well follow'd.

Por. If to do were as eafie as to know what were good to do, Chappels had been Churches, and poor Mens Cottages Princes Palaces: It is a good Divine that follows his own Inftructions; I can eafier teach twenty what were good to be done, than to be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching The Brain may devife Laws for the Blood, but a hot Temper leaps o'er a cold Decree; fuch, a Hare is Madnefs the Youth, to skip o'er the Mefhes of good Counsel the Cripple. But this Reason is not in Fashion to chufe me a Husband: O me, the Word chufe! I may neither chufe whom I would, nor refufe whom I diflike, fo is the Will of a living Daughter curb'd by the Will of a dead Father: Is it not hard, Neriffa, that I cannot chufe one, nor refufe none?

Ner. Your Father was ever Virtuous, and holy Men at their Death have good Inspirations; therefore the Lottery that he hath devifed in these three Chefts of Gold, Silver, and Lead, whereof, who chufes his Meaning, chufes you, "will no doubt never be chofen by any rightly, but one who you fhall rightly love. But what Warmth is there in your Affection towards any of these Princely Suters that are already come?

Por. I pray thee over-name them, and as thou nam'st them, I will defcribe them, and according to my Defcripti on, level at my Affection.

Ner. Firft there is the Neapolitan Prince.

Por. Ay, that's a Colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his Horfe, and he makes it a great Appropriation to his own good Parts that he can fhoo him himself: I am much afraid my Lady his Mother plaid falfe with a Smith.

Ner. Then is there the County Palentine.

Por. He doth nothing but frown, as who fhould fay, and you will not have me, chufe: He hears merry Tales and fmiles not, I fear he will prove the weeping Philofopher when he grows old, being fo full of unmannerly Sadnels 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.

Ner. How fay you by the French Lord, Monfieur Le Boun?

Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a Man; in truth I know it is Sin to be a Mocker; but he! why he hath a Horfe better than the Neapolitan's, a better bad Habit of Frowning than the Count Palentine, he is every Man in no Man, if a Taffel fing, he falls ftraight a Capring; he will fence with his own Shadow; if I fhould marry him, I should marry twenty Husbands; if he would defpife me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to Madness, I fhould never requite him.

Ner. What fay you then to Fauconbridge, the young Ba ron of England?

Por. You know I fay nothing to him, for he underftands not me, nor I him; he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian, and you will come into the Court and wear that I have a poor Penny-worth in English; he is a proper Man's Picture, but alas who can converfe with a dumb Show? How odly he is fuited! I think he bought his Doublet in Italy, his round Hofe in France, his Bonnet in Germany, and his Behaviour every where..

Ner. What think you of the other Lord his/ Neigh bour?