Gra.

Let me play the fool:

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,
And let my liver rather heat with wine,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?

Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,—
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks;-
There are a sort of men, whose visages

Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond,
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say, "I am Sir Oracle 6,
And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!"
O! my Antonio, I do know of these,
That therefore only are reputed wise,

For saying nothing; when, I am very sure',

If they should speak, would almost damn those ears,
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
I'll tell thee more of this another time:
But fish not, with this melancholy bait,
For this fool-gudgeon, this opinion.-
Come, good Lorenzo.-Fare ye well, awhile:
I'll end my exhortation after dinner.

Lor. Well, we will leave you, then, till dinner-time.
I must be one of these same dumb wise men,
For Gratiano never lets me speak.

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

6 I am SIR ORACLE,] The first folio reads, "I am, Sir, an oracle;" but the 4to. of Heyes, and that of Roberts, have it, "I am Sir Oracle," which is doubtless right. 7 -WHEN I am very sure,] So all the old copies, including the second folio. This reading is in Shakespeare's manner, who often left the nominative case of the verb to be understood. Rowe altered "when" to who, and he has been followed by the modern editors.

For this FOOL-GUDGEON,] An expressive compound, which Malone altered to fool's-gudgeon, by deserting all the authorities.

9

Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear". Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.

[Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO.

Ant. It is that:-any thing now 10.

Bass. 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 the same
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
That you to-day promis'd to tell me of?
Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
How much I have disabled mine estate,
By something showing a more swelling port
Than my faint means would grant continuance :
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
From such a noble rate; but my chief care.
Is to come fairly off from the great debts,
Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio,
I owe the most, in money, and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty
To unburthen all my plots and purposes,

Farewell I'll grow a talker for this GEAR.] This expression frequently occurs without any very definite meaning: it signifies, generally, for this purpose, or, this matter. The 4to. by Roberts has "Farewell," and that of Heyes and the folio, " Fare you well."

10 It is that any thing now.] This is the reading of the two quartos of 1600, and of the folio of 1623, and it is preserved in the folio of 1632. Surely, therefore, we are not warranted in altering the text, when a clear meaning can be made out of it. Antonio's observation, "It is that," is addressed to Gratiano, concurring in his remark just before he made his exit; and then Antonio's bad spirits return upon him, and he adds, as if weary of Gratiano's talk, "any thing now." This naturally leads to Bassanio's criticism upon Gratiano. Johnson, Steevens, and Tyrwhitt, reason upon the passage as if the old reading were, "Is that any thing now ?" and they actually call it "the old reading," while Malone contends that, "It is that :" is a "manifest misprint." All the modern editors seem to have taken his word for it.

1

his reasons are as two grains of wheat-] The folio omits "as," which is found in both the quartos.

How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
And if it stand, as you yourself still do,

Within the eye of honour, be assur'd,
My purse, my person, my extremest means,
Lie all unlock'd 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 adventuring both,
I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof,
Because what follows is pure innocence.
I owe you much, and, like a wilful youth,
That which I owe is lost; but if you please
To shoot another arrow that self way

Which you did shoot 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 rest debtor for the first.

Ant. You know me well, and herein spend but time,

To wind about my love with circumstance;

And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong2,

In making question of my uttermost,

Than if you had made waste of all I have:

Then, do but say to me what I should do,

That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak.

3

Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyes
I did receive fair speechless messages.

Her name is Portia; nothing undervalued

2 And, out of doubt, you do ME Now more wrong,] So both the quartos: the

first folio reads,—

"And, out of doubt, you do more wrong;" to cure which defective line the second folio has,"And, out of doubt, you do to me more wrong." presti. e. ready: of very frequent use. From the French.

To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.

Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
For the four winds blow in from every coast
Renowned suitors; and her sunny locks.
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand,
And many Jasons come in quest of her.
O, my Antonio! had I but the means
To hold a rival place with one of them,
I have a mind presages me such thrift,
That I should questionless be fortunate.

Ant. Thou know'st, that all my fortunes are at sea; Neither have I money, nor commodity

To raise a present sum: therefore, go forth;
Try what my credit can in Venice do:
That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost,
To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.
Go, presently inquire, and so will I,
Where money is, and I no question make,
To have it of my trust, or for my sake.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Belmont. An Apartment in PORTIA'S House.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.

Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary 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 mean1:

4 it is no MEAN happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean :] Both the 4to. editions have "mean happiness," but the folio small; as if to avoid a repetition, which is just in the manner of Shakespeare.

VOL. II.

I i

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 o'er 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 curbed by the will of a dead father.-Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none?

5

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 whom you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?

6

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.

5 But this REASONING is not in THE fashion -] Reason, first folio: both the quartos have "reasoning ;" and afterwards, “in the fashion."

6 will, no doubt, never be chosen -] Roberts's 4to. has "no doubt, you will never be chosen."