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I have no mind of feasting forth to night :
But I will go.-Go you before me, firrah ;
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 Jewels' eye.
[Exit Laun. Sby. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jef. His words were, Farewel, mistress; nothing else.
Sby. The 'patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder, Snail-Now in profit, and he Neeps 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, Shut the doors after you: Fast bind, fast find; A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
[Exit. Jef. Farewel ; and if my fortune be not croft, I have a father, you a daughter, loft.
Enter Gratiano, and Solanio, in masquerade.
Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo
Desir'd us to make stand.
Sol. His hour is past.
Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.
Sol. O, ten times faster ? Venus' pigeons fly
z Venus' pigeons]-love's votaries. VOL. II.
To seal 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 fits 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 doth she return;
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged fails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind !
Sol. 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
Here dwells my father Jew :--Ho! who's within ?
Jessica above in boy's cloatbs.
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 worth the pains.
skarfed bark]-in gallant or full trim, in all her bravery. over-weather'd ribs,)-damaged fides over-witber'd.
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 bluth
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 ?
They in themselves, good footh, are too too light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love ;
And I should be obscur'd.
Lor. So are you, 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 Baffanio's feast.
Jef. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With some more ducats, and be with you straight.
[Exit, from above, 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 lhe is, as she hath prov'd herself;
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
Enter Jelica, below.
What, art thou come?-On, gentlemen, away ;
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
[Exit, with Jefica &c.
my bood,]-habit, a monkish oath. • Gentile,)-(a pun)- heathen, and well born-gentle.
Anth. Who's there?
Gra. Signior Anthonio?
Antb, Fie, fie, 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.
Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight,
Than to be under fail, and gone to-night. (Exeunt.
Enter Portia, with the Prince of Morocco, and both their
Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince
Now make your choice.
Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears ;-
Wbo chuseth me, shall gain what many men defire.
The second, silver, which this promise carries ;-
Wbo chuseth me, shall get as much as be deserves.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as 'blunt ;-
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all be bath.-
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 :
who and which were us’d indiscriminately in our author's time. blunt ; ]-coarse.
What says this leaden casket ?
Wbo chuseth me, must give and hazard all he bath.
Must give-For what? for lead ? hazard 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?
Wbo chusetb me, shall get as much as he deserves.
As much as he deserves ?-Pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand :
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
Thou doft deserve enough ; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
And yet to be afeard of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of myfelf.
As much as I deserve !-Why, that's the lady:
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
graces, and in qualities of breeding ;
But, more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no farther, but chose here?
Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold.
Wbo cbufeth me, fall gain what many men depre.
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 faint.
The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia :
The watry kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to fee fair Portia.
8 flows of drojs ; ]-what hath the resemblance of.