Anth. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiang
A ftage where every man muft play his part,
And mine a fad one.

Gra. Let me play the Fool; (6)

With mirth, and laughter, let old wrinkles come;
And let my liver rather heat with wine,

Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why fhould a man, whofe blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandfire cut in Alabafter?

Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Anthonio,
(I love thee, and it is my love that speaks :)
There are a fort of men, whofe vifages
Do cream and mantle like a ftanding pond:
And do a wilful ftillness entertain.
With purpose to be dreft in an opinion
Of wildom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who fhould fay, I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
O my Anthonio, I do know of thole,
That therefore only are reputed wife,
For faying nothing; who, I'm very fure,

If they thould peak, would almolt damn thofe ears, (7)
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
I'll tell thee more of this another time:

But fifh not with this melancholy bait,
For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.
Come, good Lorenzo; fare ye well a while;

(6) Let me play the Fool Alluding to the common comparison of human life to a ftage play. So that he d fires his may be the fool's or buffoon's part, which was a conftant character in the old farces: From whence came the phrase, to play the Fool.

WARBURTON.

(7) would almoft damn thofe Ears,] Several old Editions have it, dam, damme, and daunt. Some more correct Copies, damn. The Author's Meaning is this; That fome People are thought wife, whilft they keep Silence; who, when they open their mouths, are fuch ftupid Praters, that their Hearers cannot help calling them Hools, and fo incur the Judgment denounc'd in the Gospel.

THEOBALD.

I'll end my exhortation after dinner. (8)

Lor. Well, we will leave you then 'till dinner- time. I must be one of thefe fame dumb wife men; For Gratiano never lets me fpeak.

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the found of thine own tongue.

Anth. Fare well; I'll grow a talker for this gear.
Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for filence is only commend-

able

In a neat's tongue dry'd, and a maid not vendible.

[Exeunt Gra. and Loren. Anth. Is that any thing now? (9)

Baff. Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing more than any man in all Venice his reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bufhels of chaff; you Thall Teek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the fearch.

Anth. Well; tell me now, what lady is the fame, To whom you swore a fecret pilgrimage, That you to day promis'd to tell me of? Ball. 'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, By fhewing fomething a more swelling port, Than my faint means would grant continuance Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd From fuch a noble rate; but my chief care Is to come fairly off from the great debts, Wherein my time, fomething too prodigal, Hath left me gaged. To you, Anthonie, I owe the most in mony, and in love; And from your love I have a warranty T" unburthen all my plots and purposes, How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

Anth. I pray you, good Baffanio, let me know it ;

(8) I'll end my exhortation after dinner.] The humour of this confifts in its being an allufion to the practice of the puritan preachers of thofe times; who being generally very long and tedious, were often forced to put off that part of their fermon called the exhortation till after dinner. WARBURTON.

(9) Is that any thing now ?] All the old copies read, it is that any thing now? I fuppofe we should read, is that any thing new? F 2

And

And if it ftand, as you yourself still do,
Within the eye of honour; be affur'd,
My purfe, my perfon, my extreameft means
Lye
all unlock'd to your occafions.

Ball. In my fchool-days, when I had loft one fhaft, I thot his fellow of the felf-fame flight

The felf-fame way, with more advifed watch,
To find the other forth; by vent'ring both,
I oft found both. I urge this child-hood proof,
Becaufe what follows is pure innocence.
I owe you much, and, fike a wilful youth, (1)
That which I owe is loft; but if you please
To shoot another arrow that felf way
Which you did fhoot the first, I do not doubt,
As I will watch the aim, or to find both,
Or bring your latter hazard back again,
And thankfully reft debtor for the firft.

Anth. You know me well; and herein fpend but
time,

To wind about my love with circumftance;

And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong,
In making queftion of my uttermoft,

Than if you had made waste of all I have.
Then do but fay to me, what I fhould do,
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am preft unto it: therefore fpeak.
Baff. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And the is fair, and fairer than that word,
Of wondrous virtues; fometimes from her eyes (2)
I did

(1) like a WILFUL youth,] This does not at all agree with what he just before promifed, that, what follow'd, fhould be pure innocence. For wilfulness is not quite fo pure. "We should read WITLESS, . e. heedlefs; and this agrees exactly to that to which he compares his cafe, of a school boy, who for want of adwifed watch, loft his Erft arrow, and fent another after it with more attention. But wilful agrees not at all with it. WARBURTON.

Dr. Warburton confounds the time påft and prefent. He has formerly loft his money like a wilful youth, he now brows more in pure innocence, without difguifing his former fault, or his prefeat. defigns.

(2) -fornetimes from ber Eyes] So all the Editions; but it certainly ought to be, fometime, i. e. formerly, fome time ago, at a

certain

I did receive fair fpeechlefs meffages;
Her name is Portia, nothing undervalu'd
To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia :

Nor is the wide world ign'rant of her worth ;.
For the four winds blow in from every coaft
Renowned fuitors; and her funny locks

Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her feat of Belmont, Colchos' strand;.
And many fafons come in queft of her.
my Anthonio, had I but the means
To hold a rival place with one of them,
I have a mind prefages me fuch thrift,
That I fhould queftionlefs be fortunate.

Anth. Thou know't, that all my fortunes are at: fea,

Nor have I mony, nor commodity

To raise a prefent fum; therefore, go forth;
Try what iny credit can in Venice do ;

That fhall be rack'd even to the uttermoft,
To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.
Go, prefently enquire, and fo will I,
Where mony is; and I no queftion make,
To have it of my truft, or for my fake.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

II.

Changes to BELMONT."

Three Cafkets are fet out, one of gold, another of filver, and another of lead.

Enter Portia and Neriffa.

Por.BY Y my troth, Neriffa, my little body is weary

of this great world.

Ner. You would be, fweet madam, if your miferies were in the fame abundance as your good fortunes are. And yet, for aught I fee, they are as fick, that furfeit with too much, as they that ftarve with nothing; therefore it is no mean happinets to be feated in the certain time and it appears by the fubfequent Scene, that Bassania was at Bemont with the Marquis de Montferrat, and faw Portia in her Father's life-time.

THEOBALD.

mean; fuperfluity comes fooner by white hairs, but Competency lives longer.

Por. Good fentences, and well pronounc'd.

Ner. They would be better, if well follow'd.

Por. If to do, were as eafie as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches; and poor men's cottages, Princes' palaces. He is a good divine, that follows his own inftructions; I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than to be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching The brain may devife laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree; fuch a hare is madnefs the youth, to fkip o'er the mefhes of good counfel the cripple. But this reafoning is not in fashion to chufe me a bufband: O me, the word, chufe! I may neither chuse whom I would, nor refufe whom I dislike; fo is the will of a living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Neriffa, that I cannot chufe one, nor refuse none?

Ner Your father was ever virtuous ; and holy men at their death have good infpirations; therefore, the lottery, that he hath devifed in thefe three chefts of gold, filver, and lead, (whereof who chufes his meaning, chufes you) will no doubt never be chofen by any rightly, but one whom you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of thefe princely fuitors, that are already come?

Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou nam'st them, I will defcribe them; and, according to my defcription, level at my affection.

Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan Prince.

Por. Ay, that's a Colt, (3) indeed, for he doth no

thing

(3) Ay, that's a Colt, indeed, for be doth nothing but talk of his bore] Tho' all the Editions agree in this Reading, I can perceive neither Humour, nor Reafening in it. How does talking of Horfes, or knowing how to fhoe. them make a Man e'er the more a Colt ? Or, if a Smith. and a Lady of Figure were to have an Af fair rogether, would a Colt be the Iffte of their Careffes? The Werd, Duit, which I have substituted, fignifies one of the most stupid and blackish of the Vulgar. THEOBALD