Portia, Nerissa, and others attending. note
Mor.
Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd note sun,
To whom I am a neighbour and near bred.
Bring me note the fairest creature northward born,
Where Phœbus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
And let us make incision for your love,
To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine
Hath fear'd the valiant: by my love, I swear
The best-regarded virgins of our clime
Have note loved it too: I would not change this hue,
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
Por.
In terms of choice I am not solely note led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes;
Besides, the lottery of my destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing:
But if my father had not scanted me
And hedged me by his wit note, to yield myself
His wife who wins me by that means I told you,
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair
As any comer I have look'd on yet
For my affection.
Mor.
Even for that I thank you:
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets,
-- 297 --
To try my fortune. By this scimitar note
That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,
I would outstare note the sternest eyes that look,
Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
Yea, mock the lion when he note roars for prey,
To win thee, lady note. But, alas the while!
If Hercules and Lichas play at dice
Which is the better man, the greater throw
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand:
So is Alcides beaten by his page note;
And so may I, blind fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.
Por.
You must take your chance;
And either not attempt to choose at all,
Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong,
Never to speak to lady afterward
In way of marriage: therefore be advised.
Mor.
Nor will not. Come, bring me unto note note my chance.
Por.
First, forward to the temple: after dinner
Your hazard shall be made.
Mor.
Good fortune then!
To make me blest note or cursed'st among men.
[Cornets, and exeunt.
Scene II.
Venice. A street.
Enter Launcelot. note
Laun.
Certainly my conscience will note serve me to run
from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow, and
-- 298 --
tempts me, saying to me, ‘Gobbo, Launcelot note Gobbo note, good
Launcelot,’ or ‘good Gobbo,’ or ‘good Launcelot note Gobbo note,
use your legs, take the start, run away.’ My conscience
says, ‘No; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest
Gobbo,’ or, as aforesaid, ‘honest Launcelot note Gobbo note; do not
run; scorn running with note thy heels.’ Well, the most courageous note
fiend bids me pack: ‘Via note!’ says the fiend; ‘away!’
says the fiend; ‘for the note heavens, note rouse up a brave mind,’
says the fiend, ‘and run.’ Well, my conscience, hanging
about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, ‘My
honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son,’—or
rather an honest woman's son;—for, indeed, my father did
something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of
taste;—well, my conscience says, ‘Launcelot, budge not.’
‘Budge,’ says the fiend. ‘Budge not,’ says my conscience.
‘Conscience,’ say I, ‘you counsel well;’ ‘Fiend,’ say I, ‘you
counsel well note:’ to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay
with the Jew my master, who, God bless the mark, is a
kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be
ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil
himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarnal note;
and, in my conscience, my conscience is but note a kind of hard
conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The
fiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my
heels are at your command note; I will run.
Enter Old Gobbo, with a basket.
Gob.
Master young man note, you, I pray you, which is the
way to master Jew's?
-- 299 --
Laun. [Aside]
O heavens, this is my true-begotten
father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind,
knows me not: I will try confusions note with him.
Gob.
Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is
the way to master Jew's?
Laun.
Turn up on note your right hand at the next turning,
but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the
very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly
to note the Jew's house.
Gob.
By note God's sonties note, 'twill be a hard way to hit.
Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with
him, dwell with him or no?
Laun.
Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [Aside]
Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. Talk you of
young Master Launcelot?
Gob.
No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his father,
though I say it note, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God
be thanked, well to live.
Laun.
Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of
young Master Launcelot.
Gob.
Your worship's friend, and Launcelot note, sir note.
Laun.
But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech
you, talk of young Master Launcelot? note
Gob.
Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
Laun.
Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master
Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman, according to
Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters
Three and such branches of learning, is note indeed deceased;
or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven.
Gob.
Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of
my age, my very prop.
Laun.
Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff
or a prop? Do you know note me, father?
-- 300 --
Gob.
Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman:
but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, God rest his
soul, alive or dead?
Laun.
Do you not know me, father?
Gob.
Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not.
Laun.
Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail
of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own
child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son:
give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder note
cannot be hid long; a man's son may; but, at the length note,
truth will out note.
Gob.
Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not
Launcelot, my boy.
Laun.
Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it,
but give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy that
was, your son that is, your child that shall be.
Gob.
I cannot think you are my son.
Laun.
I know not what I shall think of that: but
I am Launcelot, the Jew's man; and I am sure Margery
your wife is my mother.
Gob.
Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if
thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood.
Lord worshipped might note he be! what a beard hast thou
got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my
fill-horse note has on his tail.
Laun.
It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows
backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail than
I have of my note face when I last note saw him.
Gob.
Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou
and thy master agree? I have brought him a present.
How 'gree note you now?
Laun.
Well, well: but, for mine own part, as I have
-- 301 --
set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have
run some ground. My master's a very Jew: give him a
present! give him a halter: I am famished in his service;
you may tell every finger I have with my note ribs. Father,
I am glad you are come: give me your present to one
Master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries: if
I serve not him note, I will run as far as God has any ground.
O rare fortune! here comes the man: to him, father; for
I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer.
Enter note Bassanio, with Leonardo and other followers.
Bass.
You may do so; but let it be so hasted, that
supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See
these letters delivered; put the liveries to making; and
desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.
[Exit note a Servant.
Laun.
To him, father.
Gob.
God bless your worship!
Bass.
Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me?
Gob.
Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,—
Laun.
Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man;
that would, sir,—as my father shall specify,—
Gob.
He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say,
to serve,—
Laun.
Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the
Jew, and have a desire,—as my father shall specify,—
Gob.
His master and he, saving your worship's reverence,
are scarce cater-cousins,—
Laun.
To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew,
having done me wrong, doth cause me,—as my father,
being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify note unto you,—
Gob.
I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow
upon your worship, and my suit is,—
Laun.
In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself,
-- 302 --
as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and,
though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father.
Bass.
One speak for both. What would you?
Laun.
Serve you, sir.
Gob.
That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
Bass.
I know thee well; thou hast obtain'd thy suit:
Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,
And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment
To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
The follower of so poor a gentleman.
Laun.
The old proverb is very well parted between
my master Shylock and you, sir: you have the grace of
God, sir, and he hath enough.
Bass.
Thou speak'st note it well. Go, father, with thy son.
Take leave of thy old master and inquire
My lodging out. Give him a livery
More guarded than his fellows': see it done.
Laun.
Father, in. I cannot get a service, no; note I have note
notene'er a tongue in my head. note Well, note if any man in Italy have
a fairer table which doth note offer to swear upon a book note, I note
shall have good note fortune. note Go to, here's a simple line of
life: here's a small trifle of wives: alas, fifteen wives is
nothing! a'leven note widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in
for one man: and then to 'scape note drowning thrice,
and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed;
here are simple scapes. Well, if Fortune be a woman, she's
-- 303 --
a good wench for this gear. Father, come; I'll take my
leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye note.
[Exeunt note Launcelot and Old Gobbo.
Bass.
I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this:
These things being bought and orderly bestow'd,
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
My best-esteem'd acquaintance: hie thee, go note.
Leon.
My best endeavours shall be done herein.
noteEnter Gratiano.
Gra.
Where is your master?
Leon.
Yonder, sir, he walks.
[Exit. note
Gra.
Signior Bassanio,—
Bass.
Gratiano!
Gra.
I have a note suit to you.
Bass.
You have obtain'd it.
Gra.
You must note not deny me: I must go with you to
Belmont.
Bass.
Why, then you must. But hear thee note, Gratiano:
Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice;
Parts that become thee happily enough,
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;
But where thou art not known, note why, there they show
Something too liberal. Pray thee note, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild behaviour,
I be misconstrued note in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes note.
Gra.
Signior Bassanio, hear me:
-- 304 --
If I note do not put on a sober habit,
Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pocket note, look demurely;
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say ‘amen;’
Use all the observance of civility,
Like one well studied in a sad ostent
To please his grandam, never trust me more.
Bass.
Well, we shall see your bearing.
Gra.
Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me
By what we do to-night.
Bass.
No, that were pity:
I would entreat you rather to put on
Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose merriment. But fare you well note:
I have some business.
Gra.
And I must to Lorenzo and the rest:
But we will visit you at supper-time.
[Exeunt.
note
Scene III. [Footnote:
The same. A room in Shylock's house.
Enter note Jessica and Launcelot.
Jes.
I am note sorry thou wilt leave my father so:
Our house is hell; and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee:
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest:
Give him this letter; do it secretly;
And so farewell: I would not have my father
See me in talk note with thee.
Laun.
Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful
-- 305 --
pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian did note not play
the knave, and get thee note, I am much deceived. But, adieu:
these foolish drops do something note drown my manly spirit:
adieu.
Jes.
Farewell, good Launcelot.
[Exit Launcelot.
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
To be ashamed to be my father's child! note
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
Become a Christian, and thy loving wife.
[Exit.
note
Scene IV. [Footnote:
The same. A street.
Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Salanio.
Lor.
Nay, we will slink away in supper-time,
Disguise us at my lodging, and return
All in an hour.
Gra.
We have not made good preparation.
Salar.
We have not spoke us yet note of torch-bearers.
Salan.
'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd,
And better in my mind not undertook.
Lor.
'Tis now but four o' noteclock: we have two hours
To furnish us.
Enter note Launcelot, with a letter.
Friend Launcelot, what's the news?
Laun.
An it shall note please you to break up this, it shall
seem note to signify.
Lor.
I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand;
-- 306 --
And whiter note than the paper it writ on
Is note the fair hand that writ.
Gra.
Love-news, in faith.
Laun.
By your leave, sir.
Lor.
Whither goest thou?
Laun.
Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup
to-night with my new master the Christian.
Lor.
Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica
I will not fail her; speak it privately.
Go, gentlemen note,
[Exit Launcelot. note
Will you prepare you note for this note masque to-night?
I am provided of a torch-bearer.
Salar.
Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
Salan.
And so will I.
Lor.
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
How I shall take her from her father's house;
What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with;
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake:
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,
That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest:
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer.
[Exeunt.
-- 307 --
note
Scene V. [Footnote:
The same. Before Shylock's house.
Enter Shylock and Launcelot. note
Shy.
Well, thou shalt note see, thy eyes shall be thy judge,
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:—
What, Jessica!—thou shalt not gormandise,
As thou hast done with me:—What, Jessica!—
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;—
Why, Jessica, I say!
Laun.
Why, Jessica!
Shy.
Who bids thee call? I do note not bid thee call.
note
Laun.
Your worship was wont to tell me that note I could
do nothing without bidding.
Enter Jessica.
Jes.
Call you? what is your will?
Shy.
I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:
There are my keys. But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. I am right loath to go:
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.
Laun.
I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth
expect your reproach.
Shy.
So do I his.
Laun.
And they have conspired together, I will not
say you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not
for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-Monday
last at six o'clock i' the note morning, falling out that year on
Ash-Wednesday was four year, in the afternoon.
-- 308 --
Shy.
What, are there note masques? Hear you note me, Jessica:
Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum,
And the vile squealing note of the wry-neck'd note fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces;
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements:
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 note, sir. Mistress, look out at note window,
for all this;
There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jewess' note eye.
[Exit.
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 note 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 note; shut doors note after you:
Fast bind, fast note find note,
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.
-- 309 --
note
Scene VI. [Footnote:
The same.
Enter note Gratiano and Salarino, masqued.
Gra.
This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo
Desired us to make note stand note.
Salar.
His hour is almost note 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 note fly
To seal note 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 note or a prodigal
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
How like the note prodigal doth she note return,
With over-weather'd note ribs and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!
Salar.
Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter.
Enter Lorenzo.
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,
-- 310 --
I'll watch as long for you then note. Approach note note;
Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! note who's note within?
Enter Jessica, above, in boy's clothes.
Jes.
Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,
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 note worth the pains.
I am note glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
For I am much ashamed 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 note?
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 note, sweet,
Even in the lovely garnish of a note boy.
But come at once;
For the close night doth play the runaway,
And we are stay'd for at Bassanio's feast.
Jes.
I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With some more note ducats, and be with you straight.
[Exit above.
-- 311 --
Gra.
Now, by my hood, a Gentile note, and no Jew.
Lor.
Beshrew note 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 note; away!
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
[Exit note with Jessica and Salarino.
Enter Antonio.
Ant.
Who's there note?
Gra.
Signior Antonio!
Ant.
Fie, fie note, 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 aboard:
I have sent twenty out to seek for you note.
note
Gra.
I am glad on't: I desire no more delight
Than to be under sail and gone to-night.
[Exeunt.
note
Scene VII. [Footnote:
Belmont. A room in Portia's house.
Flourish of cornets. note Enter note Portia, with the Prince of Morocco, and their trains.
Por.
Go draw aside the curtains, and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince.
Now make your choice.
-- 312 --
Mor.
The first, of gold, who this inscription bears,
‘Who chooseth me shall gain what many note 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? note
Por.
The one of them contains my picture, prince:
If you choose that, then I am yours withal note.
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 note that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages:
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross;
I'll then nor give note 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 note,
And weigh thy value with an even hand:
If thou be'st rated by thy note estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady:
And yet to be afeard note 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 note.
What if I stray'd no further, but chose here?
Let's see once more this saying graved in gold;
-- 313 --
‘Who chooseth 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 note wilds
Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now
For princes to come view fair Portia:
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits note 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 damnation
To think so base a thought: it were too gross
To rib note her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think in silver she's immured,
Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
A coin that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped note 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. note
Mor.
O hell! what have we here?
A carrion Death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll note! I'll read the writing note.
[Reads.
All that glisters is not gold;
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold
But my outside to behold:
-- 314 --
Gilded tombs do note worms infold.
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
note
Your note answer had not been inscroll'd:
Fare you well; your suit is cold.
Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!
Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.
[Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets. note
Por.
A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go.
Let all of his complexion choose me so.
[Exeunt.
note
Scene VIII. [Footnote:
Venice. A street.
Enter Salarino and Salanio.
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 raised the Duke,
Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.
Salar.
He came note too late, the ship was under sail:
But there the Duke was given to understand
That in a gondola note were seen together
Lorenzo and his amorous note Jessica:
Besides, Antonio certified the Duke
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
Salan.
I never heard a passion so confused,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets:
-- 315 --
‘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 sealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter!
And jewels, two stones, two note rich and precious stones,
Stolen by my daughter! Justice! find the girl!
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats!’
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 note suddenly, for note 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 note 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 note love note:
Be merry; and employ note your chiefest thoughts
To courtship, and such fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently become you there:’
-- 316 --
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 him.
I pray thee, let us go and find him out,
And quicken his embraced note heaviness
With some delight or other.
Salar.
Do we so.
[Exeunt.
note
Scene IX. [Footnote:
Belmont. A room in Portia's house.
Enter Nerissa with a Servitor.
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. note Enter note 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 solemnized:
But if you note 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 note fail in fortune of my choice,
-- 317 --
Immediately to leave you and be gone.
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! note Gold; silver; and base lead.
‘Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.’
note
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! note that ‘many’ may note be meant
By the note fool note multitude, that choose by show,
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
Which pries not to the note interior, but, like the martlet,
Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Even in the force and road note 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 note.
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? note Let none presume
To wear an undeserved dignity.
O, that estates, degrees and offices
Were not derived corruptly, and note 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!
-- 318 --
How much low peasantry note would then be glean'd
From the true seed of honour! and how much honour
Pick'd note from the chaff note and ruin note of the times,
To be new-varnish'd note! 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 note,
And instantly unlock my fortunes here.
[He opens the silver casket. note
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 note!
‘Who chooseth me shall have note as much as he deserves.’
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize note? are my deserts no better?
Por.
To offend, and judge, are distinct offices,
And of opposed natures.
Ar.
What is note here?
[Reads]
The fire seven times tried this:
Seven times tried that judgement note 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 note,
Silver'd o'er; and so was this.
Take what wife note you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So be gone note: you are sped.
-- 319 --
Still note 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 note.
[Exeunt Arragon and train. note
Por.
Thus hath the candle singed the moth note.
O, these deliberate fools! when they do choose,
They have the wisdom note by their wit to lose.
Ner.
The ancient saying is no heresy,
Hanging and wiving goes note by destiny.
Por.
Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
Enter a Servant. note
Serv.
Where is my lady?
Por. note
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 note 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 note comes before his lord.
Por.
No more, I pray thee: I am half afeard note
Thou wilt note say anon he is some kin to thee,
Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him.
-- 320 --
Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see
Quick Cupid's post note that comes so mannerly.
Ner.
Bassanio, lord Love, note if thy will it be!
[Exeunt.
William Aldis Wright [1863–1866], The works of William Shakespeare edited by William George Clark... and John Glover [and William Aldis Wright] (Macmillan and Co., London) [word count] [S10701].
