IE MERCHANT OF VENICE. ACT I. SCENE I.-A Street in Venice. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO, R. Ant. (c.) In sooth, I know not why I am so sad : wearies me; you say it wearies you; t how I caught it, found it, or came by it, hat stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, am to learn; nd such a want-wit sadness makes of me, hat I have much ado to know myself. Sol. (R. c.) Your mind is tossing on the ocean; That curt'sy to them, do them reverence, Sala. (L. c.) Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Plucking the grass to know where sits the wind; Peering in maps for ports, and piers, and roads; Sol. My wind, cooling my broth, Would blow me to an ague, when I thought But I should think of shallows and of flats; Shall I have the thought To think on this? and shall I lack the thought, That such a thing, bechanced, would make me sad? Is sad to think upon his merchandize. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Ant. Fie, fie! Sala. Not in love neither? Then let's say you are sad, Because you are not merry and 'twere as easy For you to laugh, and leap, and say you are merry, Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper; And others of such vinegar aspect, That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Sol. (R.) Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kins man, Gratiano and Lorenzo: fare you well; We leave you now with better company. Sala. (R.) I would have stayed till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it your own business calls on you, And you embrace the occasion to depart. Enter BASSANIO, GRATIANO, and Lorenzo, L. Sala. Good morrow, my good lords. Bass. (c.) Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? [Crosses to Sala, say, when? You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? Sol. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. [Exeunt Sol. and Sala., R. Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, e two will leave you; but, at dinner-time, ray you have in mind where we must meet. Bass. I will not fail you. [Lor. and Bass. confer in back-ground. Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio: ou have too much respect upon the world: hey lose it, that do buy it with much care. elieve me, you are marvellously changed. Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; stage, where every man must play a part, and mine a sad one. Gra. (L. c.) Let me play the fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice For saying nothing: who, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, But fish not with this melancholy bait, Come, good Lorenzo: [They advance.] Fare ye well, awhile I'll end my exhortation after dinner. Lor. (L. c.) Well, we will leave you, then, till dinner time: I must be one of these same dumb wise men, Gra. (L.) Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Ant. Farewell; I'll grow a talker for this year. Gra. (L.) Thanks, i' faith; for silence is only commen dable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. [Exeunt Gra. and Lor., L. Ant. (R. c.) Is that any thing, now? Bass. (R.) Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice: his reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them; and when you have them, they are not worth the search. Ant. Well: tell me, now, what lady is this same, Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it: Within the eye of honour, be assured My purse, my person, my extremest means, Lie all unlocked to your occasions. Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by advent'ring both, urge Because what follows is pure innocence. |