SCENE II.-Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.

Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is a-weary of this great world.

Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing: It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.

Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. Ner. They would be better, if well followed. Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages, princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree: such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband :-O me, the word choose! I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead father :-Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none? Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men, at their death, have good inspirations; therefore, the lottery that he hath devised in these three chests, of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who chooses his meaning, chooses you,) will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?

Por. I pray thee over-name them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them; and, according to my description, level at my affection.

Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. Por. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts, that he can shoe him himself: I am much afraid, my lady, his mother, played false with a smith.

Ner. Then, is there the county Palatine. Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who should say, An if you will not have me, choose; he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather 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 say you by the French lord, monsieur Le Bon ?

Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker: But, he! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's; a better bad habit of frowning than the count Palatine: he is every man in no man: if a throstle sing, he falls straight a capering; he will fence with his own shadow: if I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands: If he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if he love me to madness, I shall never requite him.

Ner. What say you then to Faulconbridge, the young baron of England?

• Count.

Por. You know, I say nothing to him; for he understands not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you will come into the court and swear, that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's picture; But, alas! who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behavior every where.

Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbor?

Por. That he hath a neighborly charity in him; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again, when he was able: I think, the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another.

Ner. How like you the young German, the duke of Saxony's nephew?

Por. Very vilely in the morning when he is sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: when he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I hope, I shall make shift to go without him.

Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you should refuse to accept him.

Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket; for, if the devil be within, and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a spunge.

Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords, they have acquainted me with their determinations: which is indeed, to return to their home, and to trouble you with no more suit; unless you may be won by some other sort than your father's imposition, depending on the caskets.

Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's will: I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable; for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I pray God grant them a fair departure.

Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, that came hither in company of the Marquis of Montferrat?

Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so was he called.

Ner. True, madam; he of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserv ing a fair lady.

Por. I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of thy praise.-How now! what news! Enter a Servant.

to take their leave: and there is a fore-runner come Serv. The four strangers seek for you, madam, from a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who brings word, the prince, his master, will be here to-night.

Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so

good heart, as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his approach: if he have the condition of a saint, and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. Come, Nerissa.-Sirrah, go before.-Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door. [Exeunt

Temper, qualities.

SCENE III.-Venice.

A Public Place.
Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK.

Shy. Three thousand ducats,-well.
Bass. Ay, sir, for three months.
Shy. For three months,-well.

be bound.

Shy. Antonio shall become bound,-well. Bass. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your answer?

Shy. Three thousand ducats, for three months,

and Antonio bound.

Bass. Your answer to that.
Shy. Antonio is a good man.

Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?

Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no;-my meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient: yet his means are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies I understand moreover upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England,and other ventures he hath, squander'd abroad:

But ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats, and water-rats, water-thieves, and landthieves; I mean, pirates; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks: The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient;-three thousand ducats; -I think I may take his bond.

Bass. Be assured you may.

Shy. I will be assured, I may; and, that I may be assured, I will bethink me: May I speak with Antonio?

Bass. If it please you to dine with us.

Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into: I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto ?--Who is he comes here? Enter ANTONIO.

Buss. This is signior Antonio.

[looks!

Shy. [Aside. How like a fawning publican he
I hate him, for he is a Christian:
But more, for that, in low simplicity,
He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
Even there where merchants most do congregate,
On me, my bargains, and my well won thrift,
Which he calls interest: Cursed be my tribe,
If I forgive him!

Bass.

Shylock, do you hear?
Shy. I am debating of my present store;
And, by the near guess of my memory,
I cannot instantly raise up the gross
Of full three thousand ducats: What of that?
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
Will furnish me: But soft; How many months
Do you desire?-Rest you fair, good signior;
[TO ANTONIO.

Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
Ant. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking, nor by giving of excess,
Yet to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
I'll break a custom-Is he yet possess'd,9
How much you would?
Shy.

Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
Aut. And for three months.
Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told me so.
Well then, your bond; and, let me see, -But

hear you;

Wants which admit no longer delay. • Informed.

The third possessor; ay, he was the third.

Ant. And what of him? did he take interest? Shy. No, not take interest; not, as you would say, Directly interest: mark what Jacob did. When Laban and himself were compromis'd, That all the eanlings which were streak'd, and pied, Should fall as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being rank, In the end of autumn turned to the rams: And when the work of generation was Between these woolly breeders in the act, The skilful shepherd peel'd me certain wands, And in the doing of the deed of kind,1 He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes; Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time Fall party-color'd lambs, and those were Jacob's. This was the way to thrive, and he was blest; And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.

Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for; A thing not in his power to bring to pass, But sway'd and fashion'd by the hand of heaver. Was this inserted to make interest good? Or is your gold and silver, ewes and rams? Shy. I cannot tell: I make it breed as fast:But note me, signior.

Ant.

Mark you this, Bassanio, The devil can cite scripture for his purpose. An evil soul, producing holy witness, Is like a villain with a smiling cheek; O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! A goodly apple rotten at the heart;

[sum.

Shy. Three thousand ducats,-'tis a good round
Three months from twelve, then let me see the rate.
Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you?
Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and o
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my monies, and my usances;2
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug;
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe:
You call me-misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,

And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears, you need my help:
Go to then; you come to me, and you say,
Shylock, we would have monies; You say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; monies is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
Hath a dog money? is it possible,

A cur can lend three thousand ducats? or
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness,
Say this,-

Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You call'd me-dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much monies?

Ant. I am as like to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not
As to thy friends; (for when did friendship take
A breed for barren metal of his friend?)
But lend it rather to thine enemy;

Who if he break, thou may'st with better face
Exact the penalty.

Shy.
Why, look you, how you storm!
I would be friends with you, and have your love,
Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
Supply your present wants, and take no doit

Laun. Talk you of young master Launcelot ?Mark me now; [Aside.] 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, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young master Launcelot.

Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir. Laun. But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo, I be

seech you; Talk you of young master Launcelot? 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 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 me, father?

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 cannot be hid long, a man's son may; but, in the end, truth will out.

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 worshipp'd might he be! what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin, my thill-horse, has on his tail.

Laun. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am sure he had more hair on his tail, than I have on my face, when I last saw him. Gob. Lord, how art thou chang'd! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present; How 'gree you now?

Laun. Well, well: but for mine own part, as I have 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 famish'd in his service; you may tell every finger I have with my 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, I will run as far as God has any ground.—

• Shaft-horse.

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 deliver'd; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. [Exit 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 I 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 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, as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say it, though an old man, yet, poor man, my father.

-What would you?

Bass. One speak for both :Laun. Serve you, sir. Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, sir. Bass. I know thee well, thou hast obtain'd thy Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, [suit: 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 it well: Go, father, with thy Take leave of thy old master, and enquire [son:My lodging out:-Give him a livery

[To his Followers. More guarded than his fellows: See it done. Laun. Father, in :-I cannot get a service, no; -I have ne'er a tongue in my head.-Well ; [looking on his palm.] if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon a book. I shall have good fortune; Go to, here's a simple line of life! here's a small trifle of wives: Alas, fifteen wives is nothing; eleven widows, and nine maids, is a simple coming-in for one man: and then, to 'scape 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 a good wench for this gear.-Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye. [Exeunt 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. Leon. My best endeavors shall be done herein Enter GRATIANO.

Gra. Where is your master?
Ornamented.

The palm of the hand extended.

Gra.

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. [tiano; Bass. Why, then you must:-But hear thee, GraThou 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,why, there they show Something too liberal:-pray thee, take pain To allay with some cold drops of modesty Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild beI be misconstrued in the place I go to, [havior, And lose my hopes. 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 pocket, 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 By what we do to-night. [gage me, 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.

Bass.

SCENE III-A Room in Shylock's House. Enter JESSICA and LAUNCelot. Jes. I am sorry, thou wilt leave my father so; Our house is hell; but 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 talk with thee.

Laun. Adieu!-tears exhibit my tongue.Most beautiful pagan,-most sweet Jew! If a Christian do not play the knave, and get thee, I am much deceiv'd: But, adieu! these foolish drops do somewhat drown my manly spirit; adieu! [Exit. Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot.Alack, what heinous sin it is in me To be ashamed to be my father's child! But though I am a daughter to his blood, I am not to his manners: 0 Lorenzo, If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife; Become a Christian, and thy loving wife. [Exit.

SCENE IV-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 of torch-bearers.

⚫ Licentious. 1 Show of staid ard serious demeanor. Carriage, deportment.

Salan. "Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd; And better, in my mind, not undertook.

Lor. "Tis now but four o'clock; we have two To furnish us: [hours

Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter.

Friend Launcelot, what's the news? Laun. An it shall please you to break up this it shall seem to signify.

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.

Laun. By your leave, sir.

Love-news, in faith.

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, [Exit LAUNCELOT. Will you prepare you for this 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.

Shy. Who bids thee call? I do 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 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

• Invited.