Lor. Who comes with her? Steph. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. I pray you, is my master yet returned? Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him.— But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house. Enter LAUNCElot. Laun. Sola, sola, wo, ha, ho, sola, sola! Lor. Who calls? Laun. Sola! Did you see master Lorenzo, and mistress Lorenzo? Sola, sola! Lor. Leave hollaing, man; here. Laun. Sola! Where? Where? Lor. Here. Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news; my master will be here ere morning. [Exit. Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter;-why should we go in? [Exit STEPHANO There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins; Such harmony is in immortal souls; 1 A small, flat dish or plate, used in the administration of the Eucharist; it was commonly of gold, or silver-gilt. But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close us in, we cannot hear it.-1 Enter Musicians. Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn ; [Music. Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud, If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, By the sweet power of music. Therefore, the poet Let no such man be trusted.—Mark the music. Enter PORTIA and NERISSA at a distance. Por. That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle. Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less. 1 The folio editions, and the quarto printed by Roberts, read— "Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close in it, we cannot hear it." A substitute shines brightly as a king, Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. How many things by season seasoned are Lor. [Music ceases. That is the voice, Or, I am much deceived, of Portia. Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo, By the bad voice. Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare, Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Are they returned? Lor. But there is come a messenger before, Madam, they are not yet; Go in, Nerissa, To signify their coming. Por. Give order to my servants, that they take No note at all of our being absent hence ; Nor you, Lorenzo;-Jessica, nor you. [A tucket2 sounds Lor. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet We are no telltales, madam; fear you not. 1 Not absolutely, but relatively good, as it is modified by circumstances. 2 Toccato (Ital.), a flourish on a trumpet. Por. This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick, It looks a little paler; 'tis a day, Such as a day is when the sun is hid. Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their Followers. Bass. We should hold day with the antipodes, If you would walk in absence of the sun. 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 for me; But God sort all!-You are welcome home, my lord. Bass. I thank you, madam; give welcome to my friend. This is the man, this is Antonio, To whom I am so infinitely bound. Por. You should in all sense 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. It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy. 2 [GRATIANO and NERISSA seem to talk apart. Gra. By yonder moon, I swear, you do me wrong; In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk. Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. Por. A quarrel, ho, already? What's the matter? Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring That she did give me; whose posy was For all the world like cutler's poetry Upon a knife,3 Love me, and leave me not. Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value? 1 Shakspeare delights to trifle with this word. 2 This verbal complimentary form, made up only of breath, i, e. words. 36 -like cutler's poetry Upon a knife." Knives were formerly inscribed, by means of aqua fortis, with short sen tences in distich. You swore to me, when I did give it you, A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy, No higher than thyself; the judge's clerk; I could not for my heart deny it him. Por. You were to blame-I must be plain with you— To part so slightly with your wife's first gift; A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger, And riveted so with faith unto your flesh. I gave my love a ring, and made him swear Never to part with it; and here he stands; I dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it, Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief; An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it. Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, And swear I lost the ring defending it. [Aside Gra. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away Por. What ring gave you, my lord? Not that, I hope, which you received of me. Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault, I would deny it; but you see, my finger 1 Respective, that is, considerative, regardful; not respectful or respecta ble, as Steevens supposed. |