Bass.-So may
selves;
The world is still deceiv'd with ornament.1
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
But, being season'd with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
What damned error, but some sober brow
Will bless it, and approve it3 with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
There is no vice so simple, but assumes
Some mark of virtue on his outward parts.
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules, and frowning Mars;
Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk?
And these assume but valour's excrement,4
To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
And you shall see 'tis purchas'd by the weight;
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lightest that wear most of it:
So are those crisped snaky golden locks,
Which make such wanton gambols with the wind,
Upon supposed fairness, often known
To be the dowry of a second head,

the outward shows be least them- | A gentle scroll: Fair lady, by your leave:

The scull that bred them, in the sepulchre."
Thus ornament is but the guiled shore

To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
The seeming truth which cunning times put on
To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold,
Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee:
Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
'Tween man and man: but thou, thou meagre lead,
Which rather threat'nest, than dost promise aught,
Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence,
And here choose I; Joy be the consequence!

Por. How all the other passions fleet to air,
As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair,
And shudd'ring fear and green-ey'd jealousy.
O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstacy,
In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess;
I feel too much thy blessing, make it less,
For fear I surfeit!
Bass:

What find I here?
Opening the leaden casket.
Fair Portia's counterfeit ? What demi-god
Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,
Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips,
Parted with sugar breath; so sweet a bar
Should sunder such sweet friends: Here in her hairs
The painter plays the spider; and hath woven
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men,
Faster than gnats in cobwebs: But her eyes,-
How could he see to do them? having made one,
Methinks it should have power to steal both his,
And leave itself unfurnish'd:10 Yet look, how far
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow
In underprizing it, so far this shadow
Doth limp behind the substance.-Here's the scroll,
The continent and summary of my fortune.

You that choose not by the view,
Chance as fair, and choose as true!
Since this fortune falls to you,
Be content and seek no new.
If you be well pleas'd with this,
And hold your fortune for your bliss,
Turn you where your lady is,
And claim her with a loving kiss.

1 Bassanio begins abruptly, the first part of the argument has passed in his mind.

2 Pleasing; winning favour.

3 i. e. justify it.

[Kissing her.

I come by note, to give, and to receive,
Like one of two contending in a prize,
That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes,
Hearing applause, and universal shout,
Giddy in spirit, still gazing, in a doubt
Whether those peals of praise be his or no;
So, thrice fair lady, stand I, even so;
As doubtful whether what I see be true,
Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.

4 That is, what a little higher is called the beard of Hercules. Excrement, from exeresco, is used for every thing which appears to grow or vegetate upon the hu man body, as the hair, the beard, the nails.

5 Shakspeare has also satirized this fashion of false hair in Love's Labour's Lost.

6 Guiled for guiling, or treacherous. 7 I could wish to read

thou stale and common drudge :'

for so I think the poet wrote.

$ In order to avoid the repetition of the epithet pale,

Por. You see me, lord Bassanio, where I stand.
Such as I am though, for myself alone,
I would not be ambitious in my wish,
To wish myself much better; yet, for you,
I would be trebled twenty times myself;
A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times
More rich;

That only to stand high on your account,
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account: but the full sum of me
Is sum of something;11 which, to term in gross,
Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd:
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learn; happier than this,
She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed,
As from her lord, her governor, her king.
Myself, and what is mine, to you, and
yours
Is now converted: but now I was the lord
Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now,
This house, these servants, and this same myself,
Are yours, my lord; I give them with this ring;
Which when you part from, lose, or give away,
Let it presage the ruin of your love,
And be my vantage to exclaim on you.

Bass. Madam, you have bereft me of all words,
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins:
And there is such confusion in my powers,
As, after some oration fairly spoke
By a beloved prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleased multitude:
Where every something, being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy,
Express'd, and not express'd: But when this ring
Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence;
O, then be bold to say, Bassanio's dead.

Ner. My lord and lady, it is now our time,
That have stood by, and seen our wishes prosper,
To cry, good joy; Good joy, my lord, and lady!

Gra. My lord Bassanio, and my gentle lady,
I wish you all the joy that you can wish;
For, I am sure, you can wish none from me:12
And, when your honours mean to solemnize
The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you,
Even at that time I may be married too.

Bass. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.
Gra. I thank your lordship; you have got me one.
My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours:
You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid;
You lov'd, I lov'd; for intermission13
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
Your fortune stood upon the caskets there;
And so did mine too, as the matter falls
For wooing here, until I sweat again;
And swearing, till my very roof was dry
With oaths of love: at last,-if promise last,-
I got a promise of this fair one here,
To have her love, provided that your fortune

Warburton altered this to plainness, and he has been
followed in the modern editions, but the reading of the
old copy, which I have restored, is the true one.

9 Counterfeit anciently signified a likeness, a resem

blance.

Achiev'd her mistress.

Por.

MERCHANT OF VENICE.

Is this true, Nerissa?

Ner. Madam, it is, so you stand pleas'd withal.
Bass. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
Gra. Yes, 'faith, my lord.

Bass. Our feast shall be much honour'd in your
marriage.

Gra. We'll play with them, the first boy for a thousand ducats.

Ner. What, and stake down?

Gra. No; we shall ne'er win at that sport, and
stake down.-

But who comes here? Lorenzo, and his infidel?
What, and my old Venetian friend, Salerio?

Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO.
Bass. Lorenzo, and Salerio, welcome hither?
If that the youth of my new interest here
Have power to bid you welcome :-By your leave,
I bid my very friends and countrymen,
Sweet Portia, welcome.
Por.

So do I, my lord;
They are entirely welcome.

Lor. I thank your honour: For my part, my lord,
My purpose was not to have seen you here;
But meeting with Salerio by the way,

He did entreat me, past all saying nay,
To come with him along.
Sale.

And I have reason for it.
Commends him to you.

I did, my lord,
Signior Antonio
[Gives BASSANIO a letter.
Bass.
Ere I ope his letter,
pray you, tell me how my good friend doth.
Sale. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind;
Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there
Will show you his estate.

I

Gra. Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her wel

come.

Your hand, Salerio; What's the news from Venice?
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?
I know, he will be glad of our success;
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.
Sale. 'Would you had won the fleece that he
hath lost!

Por. There are some shrewd contents in yon'
same paper,

That steal the colour from Bassanio's cheek:
Some dear friend dead: else nothing in the world
Could turn so much the constitution

Of any constant' man. What, worse and worse?—
With leave, Bassanio; I am half yourself,
And I must freely have the half of any thing
That this same paper brings you.

Bass.
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
O, sweet Portia,
That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady,
When I did first impart my love to you,
1 freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman;
And then I told you true: and yet, dear lady,
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see

How much I was a braggart: When I told you
My state was nothing, I should then have told you
That I was worse than nothing: for, indeed,
I have engag'd myself to a dear friend,
Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy,
To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady
The paper as the body of my friend,
And every word in it a gaping wound,
Issuing life-blood-But is it true, Salerio?
Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit?
From Tripolis, from Mexico, and England,
From Lisbon, Barbary, and India?

And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch
Of merchant-marring rocks?

Sale.
Besides, it should appear, that if he had
Not one, my lord.
The present money to discharge the Jew,
He would not take it: Never did I know

1 It should be remembered that stedfast, sad, grave, ober, were ancient synonymes of constant.

A creature, that did bear the shape of man
So keen and greedy to confound a man:
He plies the duke at morning, and at night;
And doth impeach the freedom of the state,
The duke himself, and the magnificoes
If they deny him justice: twenty merchants,
But none can drive him from the envious plea
Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him;
Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond.

227

Jes. When I was with him, I have heard him
swear,

To Tubal, and to Chus, his countrymen,
That he would rather have Antonio's flesh,
Than twenty times the value of the sum
That he did owe him: and I know, my lord,
If law, authority, and power deny not,
It will go hard with poor Antonio.

What, no more?

Por. Is it your dear friend, that is thus in trouble?
Bass. The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
The best condition'd and unwearied spirit
In doing courtesies; and one in whom
The ancient Roman honour more appears,
Than any that draws breath in Italy.
Por. What sum owes he the Jew?
Bass. For me, three thousand ducats.
Por.
Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond;
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description
First, go with me to church, and call me wife:
Should lose a hair through Bassanio's fault.
And then away to Venice to your friend;
For never shall you lie by Portia's side
With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold

To

pay the petty debt twenty times over;
My maid Nerissa and myself, mean time,
When it is paid, bring your true friend along:
For you shall hence upon your wedding-day:
Will live as maids and widows. Come, away;
Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer;"
Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear.-
But let me hear the letter of your friend.

Bass. [Reads.] Sweet Bassanio, my ships have
very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since,
all miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is
in paying it, it is impossible I should live, all debts
are cleared between you and I, if I might but see you
ut my death: notwithstanding, use your pleasure: if
your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter.
Por. O love, despatch all business, and be gone.
Bass. Since I have your good leave to go away,
I will make haste: but, till I come again,
No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay,
Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twain.

SCENE III. Venice.

[Exeunt.

A Street. Enter SHY-
LOCK, SALANIO, ANTONIO, and Gaoler.
Shy. Gaoler, look to him ;-Tell not me of mer-

cy:

This is the fool that lent out money gratis ;-
Gaoler, look to him.

Ant.

Hear me yet, good Shylock. Shy. I'll have my bond; speak not against my

bond;

I have sworn an oath, that I will have my bond:
Thou call'dat me dog, before thou hadst a cause:
But, since I am a dog, beware my fangs :
The duke shall grant me justice.--I do wonder,
Thou naughty gaoler, that thou art so fond4
To come abroad with him at his request.
Ant. I pray thee, hear me speak.

Shy. I'll have my bond; I will not hear thee
speak;

I'll have my bond; and therefore speak no more.
I'll not be made a soft and dull-ey'd fool,
To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yield
To christian intercessors. Follow not;
I'll have no speaking; I will have my bond.
[Exit SHYLOCK.

2 Hair is here used as a dissyllable.
3 i. e. air of countenance, look.

4 Foolish.

1 As this passage is a little perplexed in its construc-jecture. It evidently implies the name of a place where tion, it may not be improper to explain it :-If, says Antonio, the duke stop the course of law, the denial of those rights to strangers, which render their abode at Venice so commodious and agreeable to them, will much impeach the justice of the state, &c.

6 Some of the commentators had strained this innocent phrase to a wanton meaning. Mr. Gifford, in a 3 This word was anciently applied to those of the note on Jonson's Silent Woman, p. 470, has clearly same sex who had an esteem for each other. Ben Jon-shown, by ample illustration, that it signified nothing

father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother: well, you are gone both ways.

Jes. I shall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a Christian.

Laun. Truly, the more to blame he; we were Christians enough before; e'en as many as could. well live, one by another: This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we grow all to be pork-caters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money.

Enter LORENZO.

Jes. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here he comes.

Lor. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you thus get my wife into corners.

Jes. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and I are out: he tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter: and he says you are no good member of the commonwealth; for, in converting Jews to Christians, you raise the price of pork.

Lor. I shall answer that better to the common

wealth, than you can the getting up of the negro's
belly: the Moor is with child by you, Launcelot.
Laun. It is much, that the Moor should be more2
than reason: but if she be less than an honest wo-
man, she is, indeed, more than I took her for.
Lor. How every fool can play upon the word! I
think, the best grace of wit will shortly turn into
silence; and discourse grow commendable in none
only but parrots.-Go in, sirrah; bid them prepare

for dinner.

Laun. That is done, sir; they have all stomachs. Lor. Goodly lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then bid them prepare dinner.

Laun. That is done too, sir; only, cover is the word.

Lor. Will you cover then, sir?

Laun. Not so, sir, neither; I know my duty.
Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occasion! Wilt
thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant?
I pray thee, understand a plain man in his plain
meaning: go to thy fellows; bid them cover the table,
serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.
Laun. For the table, sir, it shall be served in: for
the meat, sir, it shall be covered; for your coming
in to dinner, sir, why, let it be as humours and con-
ceits shall govern.
[Exit LAUNCELOT.
Lor. O dear discretion, how his words are suited!
The fool hath planted in his memory
An army of good words: And I do know
As many fools, that stand in better place,
Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word
Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica!
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion,
How dost thou like the lord Bassanio's wife?
Jes. Past all expressing: It is very meet,
The lord Bassanio live an upright life;
For, having such a blessing in his lady,
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth;
And, if on earth he do not mean it, it
Is reason he should never come to heaven.
Why, if two gods should play some heavenly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,
And Portia one, there must be something else

1 Alluding to the well known line.

Pawn'd with the other; for the poor rude world
Hath not her fellow.
Lor.
Even such a husband
Hast thou of me, as she is for a wife.
Jes. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that.
Lor. I will anon; first let us go to dinner.
Jes. Nay, let me praise you, while I have a sto-
mach.

Lor. No, pray thee let it serve for table-talk;
Then, howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other things
I shall digest it.
Jes.
Well, I'll set you forth. [Exeunt.

I have heard,
Your grace
hath ta'en great pains to qualify
His rigorous course; but since he stands obdurate,
And that no lawful means can carry me
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose
My patience to his fury; and am arm'd
To suffer, with a quietness of spirit,

The

very tyranny and rage of his.
Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the court.
Salan. He's ready at the door: he comes, my lord.
Enter SHYLOCK.

Duke. Make room, and let him stand before our
face.-

Shylock, the world thinks, and I think so too,
That thou but lead'st this fashion of thy malice
To the last hour of act; and then, 'tis thought,
Thou'lt show thy mercy, and remorse, more strange
Than is thy strange apparent cruelty:
And where thou now exact'st the penalty,
(Which is a pound of this poor merchant's flesh,)
Thou wilt not only lose the forfeiture,
But touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back;
Enough to press a royal merchant down,
And pluck commiseration of his state
From brassy bosoms, and rough hearts of flint,
From stubborn Turks, and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.

If

Shy. have possess'd your grace of what I pur

pose;

And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn,
To have the due and forfeit of my bond:
you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your charter, and your city's freedom.
You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats: I'll not answer that :"
But, say, it is my humour;10 Is it answer'd?

This epithet was striking and well understood in Shak.
speare's time, when Gresham was dignified with the
title of the royal merchant, both from his wealth, and
because he constantly transacted the mercantile busi-

"Incidis in Scyllam, cupiens vitare Charybdim.' The author of which was unknown to Erasmus but was pointed out by Galeottus Martius. It is in the Alexandreis of Philip Gaultier, who flourished at the com-ness of Queen Elizabeth. mencement of the 13th century. Nothing is more frequent than this proverb in our old English writers.

2 Milton's quibbling epigram has the same kind of humour to boast of

'Galli ex concubitu gravidam te, Pontia, Mori, Quis bene moratam morigeramque neget. 3 í. e. suited or fitted to each other, arranged. 4 Envy in this place means hatred or malice. 5 Remorse in Shakspeare's time generally signified pity, tenderness.

7 Whereas.

9 The Jew being asked a question which the law does not require him to answar, stands upon his right and refuses; but afterwards gratifies his own malignity by such answers as he knows will aggravate the pain of the inquirer. I will not answer, says he, as to a legal question; but, since you want an answer, will this serve you!

10 The worthy Corporal Nym hath this apology usu ally at his finger's ends, and Shylock condescends to excuse his extravagant cruelty as a humour, or irresistible propensity of the mind. The word humour is not 8 Royal merchant is not merely a ranting epithet as used in its inodern signification, but for a peculiar quaapplied to merchants, for such were to be found at Velity which sways and masters the individual through all nice in the Sanudo's, the Giustiniani,the Grimaldi, &c. his actions

61. e. seeming, not real.