Bass.
I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this,
These things being bought and orderly bestowed,
Return in haste, for I do feast to night
My best esteem'd Acquaintance, hie thee, gone.

Leon.
My best Endeavours shall be done herein. Enter Gratiano.

Gra.

Where's your Master?

Leon.

Yonder, Sir, he walks.

Gra.

Signior Bassanio.

Bass.

Gratiano.

Gra.

I have a Suit to you.

Bass.

You have obtain'd it.

Gra.

You must not deny me, I must go with you to Belmont.

Bass.
Why then you must: But hear thee, 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 they are not known, why there they shew
Something too liberal, pray thee take pain
To allay with some cold drops of Modesty
Thy skipping Spirit, lest through thy wild Behaviour
I be misconstru'd in the Place I go to,
And lose my Hopes.

Gra.
Signior Bassanio, hear me,
If I do not put on a sober Habit,
Talk with Respect, and Swear but now and then,
Wear Prayer-books in my Pockets, 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 gage 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,
I have some Business.

Gra.
And I must to Lorenzo and the rest:
But we will visit you at Supper-time. [Exeunt. Enter Jessica and Launcelot.

Jes.
I am sorry thou wilt leave my Father so,
Our House is Hell, and thou a merry Devil
Did'st 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 farewel: I would not have my Father
See me talk with thee.

Laun.

Adieu; Tears exhibit my Tongue, most beautiful Pagan, most sweet Jew; if a Christian did not play the Knave and get thee, I am much deceived; But adieu, these foolish Drops do somewhat drown my manly Spirit: Adieu.

Jes.
Farewel, good Launcelot.
Alack, what hainous Sin is it in me,
To be asham'd to be my Father's Child?
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.

Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Solarino, 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.

Sal.
We have not spoke as yet of Torch-bearers.

Sola.
'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered,
And better in my mind not undertook.

Lor.
'Tis now but four a Clock, we have two Hours
To furnish us. Friend Launcelot, what's the News? Enter Launcelot with a Letter.

Laun.

And it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signifie.

Lor.
I know the Hand, in faith 'tis a fair Hand,
And whiter than the Paper it writ on,
Is, the fair Hand that writ.

Gra.
Love-news, in faith.

Laun.
By your leave, Sir.

Lor.
Whither goest thou?

Laun.
Marry 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, will you prepare you for this Mask to Night?
I am provided of a Torch-bearer. [Exit Laun.

Sal.
Ay marry, I'll be gone about it strait.

Sola.
And so will I.

Lor.
Meet me and Gratiano at Gratiano's Lodging
Some hour hence.

Sal.
'Tis good we do so. [Exit.

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 Heav'n,
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. Enter Shylock and Launcelot.

Shy.
Well, thou shalt see, thy Eyes shall be thy Judge,
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio;
What Jessica! Thou shalt not Gormandize
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 did not bid thee call.

Laun.
Your Worship was wont to tell me
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 loth to go,
There is some ill a brewing towards my Rest,
For I did dream of Mony-Bags last 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 Mask, but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my Nose fell a bleeding on Black Munday last, at six a Clock i'th' morning, falling out that Year on Ash-Wednesday was four Year in the afternoon.

Shy.
What are their Masks? Hear you me, Jessica,
Lock up my Doors, and when you hear the Drum
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd Fife,
Clamber not you up to the Casements then,
Nor thrust your Head into the publick 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, Sir.
Mistress, look out at Window for all this;
There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jew's Eye. [Exit Laun.

Shy.
What says that Fool of Hagar's Off-spring? ha.

Jes.
His words were Farewel Mistress, nothing else.

Shy.
The Patch is kind enough, but a huge Feeder:
Snail-slow in profit, but 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 borrowed Purse. Well, Jessica, go in,
Perhaps I will return immediately;
Do as I bid you, shut Doors after you, fast bind, fast find,
A Proverb never stale in thrifty Mind. [Exit.

Jes.
Farewel; and if my Fortune be not crost,
I have a Father, you a Daughter lost. [Exit. Enter Gratiano and Salanio in Masquerade.

Gra.

This is the Pent-house under which Lorenzo desired us to make a stand.

Sal.
His hour is almost past.

Gra.
And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
For Lovers ever run before the Clock.

Sal.
O ten times faster Venus Pigeons fly
To steal Loves 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 skarfed Bark puts from her native Bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet Wind;
How like a Prodigal she doth return
With over-wither'd Ribs and ragged Sails,
Lean, rent and beggar'd by the strumpet Wind?

Enter Lorenzo.

Sal.
Here comes Lorenzo, more of this hereafter.

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,
I'll watch as long for you then; approach;
Here dwells my Father Jew. Hoa, who's within? Jessica above in Boy's Cloths.

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.
Heav'n and thy Thoughts are witness that thou art.

Jes.
Here, catch this Casket, it is worth the pains.
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 Shame?
They in themselves goodsooth are too too light.
Why, 'tis an Office of discovery, Love,
And I should be obscur'd.

Lor.
So you are, Sweet,
Even in the lovely garnish of a Boy; but come at once,
For the close Night doth play the Run-away,
And we are staid for at Bassanio's Feast.

Jes.
I will make fast the Doors, and gild my self
With some more Ducats, and be with you straight.

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 prov'd her self;
And therefore like her self, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant Soul.

Enter Jessica.
What, art thou come? on Gentlemen, away,
Our masking Mates by this time for us stay. [Exit. Enter Anthonio.

Anth.
Who's there?

Gra.
Signior Anthonio.

Anth.
Fie, fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest?
'Tis nine a Clock, our Friends all stay for you,
No Mask to Night, the Wind is come about,
Bassanio presently will go aboard,
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. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Belmont. Enter Portia with Morrochius, and both their Trains.

Por.
Go, draw aside the Curtain, and discover
The several Caskets to this Noble Prince.
Now make your Choice. [Three Caskets are discovered.

Mor.
The first of Gold, who this Inscription bears,
Who chuseth me, shall gain what many Men desire.
The second Silver, which this Promise carries,
Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
This third, dull Lead, with warning all as blunt,
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
How shall I know if I do chuse the right?

Por.
The one of them contains my Picture, Prince,
If you chuse 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 chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
Must give for what? 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 nor give nor hazard ought for Lead.
What says the Silver with her virgin hue?
Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.

As much as he deserves; pause there, Morrochius,
And weigh thy value with an even hand,
If thou beest rated by the estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough, and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the Lady;
And yet to be afraid of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of my self.
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.
What if I stray'd no farther, but chuse here?
Let's see once more this Saying grav'd in Gold.
Who chuseth 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 Hircanian Desarts and the vast Wilds
Of wide Arabia are as Thorough-Fares now
For Princes to come view fair Portia.
The Watery Kingdom, whose ambitious Head
Spits in the Face of Heav'n, is no Bar
To stop the foreign Spirits, but they come,
As o'er a Brook, to see fair Portia.
One of these three contain her heav'nly Picture.
Is't like that Lead contains her? 'Twere Damnation
To think so base a thought; it were too gross
To rib her Searcloth in the obscure Grave;
Or shall I think in Silver she's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalued to try'd Gold;
O sinful thought, never so rich a Jem
Was set in worse than Gold! They have in England
A Coin that bears the Figure of an Angel
Stampt in Gold, but that's insculpt upon:
But here an Angel in a Golden Bed
Lyes all within. Deliver me the Key;
Here do I chuse, and thrive I as I may.

Por.
There take it, Prince, and if my Form lye there,
Then I am yours. [Unlocking the Gold Casket.

Mor.
O Hell! What have we here, a carrion Death,
Within whose empty Eye there is a written Scrowl;

All that glisters is not Gold,
Often have you heard that told;
Many a Man his Life hath sold,
But my Outside to behold:
Gilded Timber do Worms infold:
Had you been as Wise as Bold,
Young in Limbs, in Judgment old,
Your Answer had not been inscrold,
Fare you well, your Suit is cold.

Mor.
Cold indeed, and Labour lost,
Then farewel Heat, and welcome Frost:
Portia adieu, I have too griev'd a Heart
To take a tedious leave: Thus Losers part. [Exit.

Por.
A gentle riddance: Draw the Curtains, go;
Let all of his Complexion chuse me so. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Venice. Enter Solarino and Salanio.

Sal.
Why Man, I saw Bassanio under sail,
With him is Gratiano gone along;
And in their Ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.

Sola.
The Villain Jew with Outcries rais'd the Duke,
Who went with him to search Bassanio's Ship.

Sal.
He comes too late, the Ship was under sail;
But there the Duke was given to understand
That in a Gondalo were seen together
Lorenzo and his Amorous Jessica.
Besides, Anthonio certify'd the Duke
They were not with Bassanio in his Ship.

Sola.
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 sealed Bags of Ducats,

Of double Ducats, stoln from me by my Daughter,
And Jewels, two rich and precious Stones,
Stoln by my Daughter, Justice, find the Girl,
She hath the Stones upon her, and the Ducats.

Sal.
Why all the Boys in Venice follow him,
Crying his Stones, his Daughter, and his Ducats.

Sola.
Let good Anthonio look he keep his Day,
Or he shall pay for this.

Sal.
Marry well remembred,
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 Anthonio when he told me,
And wish'd in silence that it were not his.

Sola.
You were best to tell Anthonio what you hear,
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

Sal.
A kinder Gentleman treads not the Earth,
I saw Bassanio and Anthonio part,
Bassanio told him he would make some speed
Of his return: He answered, do not so,
Slubber 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 Love;
Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts
To Courtship, and such fair ostents of Love
As shall conveniently become you there;
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.

Sola.
I think he only loves the World for him,
I pray thee let us go and find him out,
And quicken his embraced Heaviness
With some Delight or other.

Sal.
Do we so. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. Belmont. Enter Nerissa and a Servant.

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. Enter Arragon, his Train, Portia, Flor. Cornets. The Caskets are discover'd.

Por.
Behold there stand the Caskets, noble Prince,
If you chuse that wherein I am contain'd,
Straight shall our Nuptial Rights be solemniz'd:
But if you 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 fail in fortune of my Choice,
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 addrest me, Fortune now
To my Heart's Hope; Gold, Silver, and base Lead.
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
You shall look fairer e'er I give or hazard.
What says the Golden Chest, ha, let me see;
Who chuseth me, shall gain what many Men desire.
What many Men desire—that Many, may be meant
By the fool Multitude that chuse by Show,
Not learning more than the fond Eye doth teach,
Which pryes not to th' Interior; but like the Martlet
Builds in the Weather on the outward Wall,
Even in the Force and Road of Casualty.
I will not chuse what many Men desire,
Because I will not jump with common Spirits,
And rank me with the barbarous Multitudes.
Why then to thee thou silver Treasure-house,
Tell me once more, what Title thou dost bear;
Who chuseth 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 purchast 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 gleaned
From the true Seed of Honour? And how much Honour
Pickt from the Chaff and Ruin of the Times,
To be new varnish'd? Well, but to my Choice;
Who chuseth 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. [Unlocking the silver Casket.

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 deserving?
Who chuseth 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 chuse amiss.
Some there be that Shadows kiss,
Such have but a Shadow'd Bliss:
There be Fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd o'er, and so was this:
Take what Wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your Head:
So be gone Sir, you are sped.

Ar.
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 Wroth. [Exit.

Por.
Thus hath the Candle sing'd the Moth:
O these deliberate Fools! when they do chuse,
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 th' Approaching of his Lord,
From whom he bringeth sensible Regreets;
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.

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