Meet me, and Gratiano,

At Gratiano's lodging, some hour hence.
Salar. 'Tis good we do so.

[Exeunt SALAR. and SALAN.
Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica?
Lor. I must needs tell thee all: She hath directed,

Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not gage How I shall take her from her father's house:

Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, I could

beautiful pagan,-most sweet Jew! If a Christian do nothing without bidding.

did not play the knave, and get thee, I am much

deceived: But adieu! these foolish drops do some

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. [Erit LAUN.
Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?
Jes. His words were Farewell, mistress; no-
thing else.

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself Shy. The patch' is kind enough; but a huge With some more ducats, and be with you straight,

feeder.

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 bav,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!4
How like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!

more certainty,

Jes. Who are you! Tell me for
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.

[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 proved herself;

And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

Enter JESSICA, below.

What, art thou come?-On, gentlemen, away:
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
[Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO.

Enter ANTΟΝΙΟ.

Ant. Who's there?
Gra. Signior Antonio?

Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano! where are all the rest?
'Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you:-
No masque to-night: the wind is come about,
Bassanio presently will go abroad:
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight,
Than to be under sail and gone to-night [Ezeunt.
SCENE VII. Belmont. A Room in Portia's
House. Flourish of Cornets. Enter PORTIA,
with the Prince of Morocco, and both their Trains.
Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince :
Now make your choice.

Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription

bears;

Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire.
The second, silver, which this promise carries;-
Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt;
Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
How shall I know if I do choose the right?

Por. The one of them contains my picture prince;
If you choose that, then I am yours withal.

Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see,
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 not 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

Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. May not extend so far as to the lady;

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 torch-bearer.
Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
1 i. e. fool or simpleton.

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.

Fair laughs the morn and soft the zephyr blows,
While proudly riding o'er the azure realm,
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes;
Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm;
Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway,
That hush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey."
4 So in Othello:

Salar. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail; With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship, I am sure, Lorenzo is not. Salan. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the duke; Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.

Salar. He came too late, the ship was under sail;
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.

Salar. 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!-O my daughter!
Fled with a Christian?-O my christian ducats!-
Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!
A sealed bag, two scaled bags of ducats,

Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels; two stones, two rich and precious stones,
Stol'n by my daughter! Justice! find the girl!
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats!

2 i. e. if compared with tried gold. So before in Act i.

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 honour
Were purchased 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 ho-

nour

Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,1
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 a 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,2
Silver'do'er; and so was this.
Take what wife you will to bed,3
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 wroath.4

[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;5
To wit, besides commends, and courteous breath,
Gifts of rich value; yet I have not seen
So likely an ambassador 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,

АСТ II.

SCENE L. Venice. A Street. Enter SALANIO and SALARINO.

Salan. Now, what news on the Rialto?

Salar. 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 carcasses 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 highway 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 mer chants?

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 not?

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 cyes? 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, warmed 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 villany | Hate counsels not in such a quality:

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.

Salur. We have been up and down to seek him.

Enter TUBAL.

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 satis-
faction, no revenge: nor no ill luck stirring, but
what lights o' my shoulders; no sighs, but o' my
breathing; thing; 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.

Tripolis.

hath an argosy cast away, coming from

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 Genon?

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!

Tab. 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 showed 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 monkeys.

Tub. But Antonio is certainly undone.

Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true: Go, Tu-
bal, fee me an officer, bespeak him a fortnight be-
fore: I will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for
were he out of Venice, I can make what merchan-
dize 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, NERIS-
SA, 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,

me;

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'erlook'd me, and divided
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'm lock'd in one of them;
If you do love me, you will find me out.--
Nerissa, and the rest, stand all aloof.-
Let music sound, while he doth make his choice;
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,
Fading in music: that the comparison

May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream,
And wat'ry death-bed for him: He may win;
And what is music then! then music is
Even as the flourish when true subjects bow
To a new-crowned monarch; such it is,
As are those dulcet sounds in break of day,
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear,
And summon him to marriage. Now he goes,
With no less presence, but with much more love,
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem
The virgin-tribute paid by howling 'Troy
To the sea-monster; I stand for sacrifice
The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,
With bleared visages, come forth to view
The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules
Live thou, I live:--With much much more dismay
1 view the fight, than thou that mak'st the fray.
Music, whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to

himself.
SONG.

1. Tell me, where is fancy' bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
REPLY, REPLY.
2. It is engender'd in the eyes,
With gazing fed; and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies;

Let us all ring fancy's knell;

I'll begin it,

Ding, dong, bell.

All. Ding, dong, bell.

$ To peize is from peser, Fr. To weigh or balance. 4 Alluding to the opinion which long prevailed, that the swan uttered a plaintive musical sound at the approach of death; there is something so touching in this ancient superstition that one feels loath to be undeceived. 5 i. e. dignity of mien.