How like a younker, or a prodigal, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails, Enter Lorenzo. Sal. 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; Jeffica above, in boy's cloaths. Jef. Who are you? tell me for more certainty, Albeit I'll fwear, that I do know your tongue. Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love. Jef. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed; For whom love I fo much? and now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witnefs, that thou art. Jef. Here, catch this cafket, it is worth the pains. I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me; For I am much afham'd of my exchange; But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee The pretty follies that themfelves commit; For if they could, Cupid himself would blush, To see me thus transformed to a boy. Lor. Defcend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jef. What must I hold a candle to my fhames? They in themfelves, good footh, are too, too light. Why, 'tis an office of difcovery, love, And I fhould be obfcur'd. Lor. Lor. So are you, fweet. Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy. But come at once, For the clofe night doth play the run-away, Jef. I will make faft the doors, and gild myself With fome more ducats, and be with you ftraight. [Exit from above Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, * and no Jew. Lor. Belhrew me, but I love her heartily; For fhe is wife, if I can judge of her; And fair fhe is, if that mine eyes be true; And true fhe is, as fhe hath prov'd herself; And therefore like herfelf, wife, fair, and true, Enter Jelica to them. What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away; Gra. Signior Anthonio, Anth. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the reft? 'Tis nine o'clock, our friends all stay for you→→→→→ No mafque to night-the wind is come about, I have fent twenty out to feek for you. Gra. I'm glad on't; I defire no more delight Than to be under fail, and gone to night. [Exeunt. both a Heathen, and One well A jeft ifing from the ambiguity of Gentile, which fignifies loin. Ee 2 SCENE SCENE VIII. Changes to Belmont. Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains. Por. NO, draw afide the curtains, and difcover Go The fev'ral cafkets to this noble Prince. Now make your choice. [Three cafkets are difcovered. Mor. The firft of gold which this infcription bears, Who chufeth me, fhall gain what many men defire. The fecond filver, which this promise carries, Who chufeth me, shall get as much as he deferves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, * Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all be bath. How fhall I know, if I do chuse the right? If Per. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; you chufe that, then I am yours withal. Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me fee, I will survey th' infcriptions back again; What fays this leaden casket; Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all be bath. Muft give?-for what? for lead? hazard, for lead? This cafket threatens. Men, that hazard all, Do it in hope of fair advantages: A golden mind ftoops not to fhows of drofs; As much as I deferve-why, that's the lady : * As blunt.] That is, as grofs as the dull metal. do in birth deferve her, and in fortunes, One of these three contains her heav'nly picture. Lyes all within. Deliver me the key; Por. There take it, Prince, and if my form lye there, Then I am yours. [Unlocking the gold cafket. Mor. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death, Within whofe empty eye there is a scrowl; I'll read the writing. Mor. Cold, indeed, and labour lost : Then farewel, heat; and welcome froft. Pertia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart To take a tedious leave. Thus lofers part. Por. A gentle riddance-draw the curtains; goLet all of his complexion chufe me fo. 3 1 Gilded wood may worms infold.] In all the old Editions this line is written thus: words were written [Exit. [Exeunt. 3 3 Chufe me fo.] The old quarto Edition of 1600 has no diftriGilded timber do worms infold. bution of acts, but proceeds from From which Mr. Rozve and all the following Editors have made Gilded wood may worms infold. A line not bad in itself, but not fo applicable to the occafion as that which, I believe, Shakespear wrote. Gilded tombs do worms infold. A tomb is the proper repofitory of a death's head. 2 Your answer had not been in ferol'd] Since there is an anfa e inferol'd or written in every casket, I believe for your we fhould read this. When the the beginning to the end in an unbroken tenour. This play divided without authority by the there fore having been probably publishers of the first folio, lies open to a new regulation if any more commodious divifion can be propofed. The story is itself changes of the fcene fo frefo wildly incredible, and the quent and capricious, that the probability of action does not deferve much care; yet it may be proper to obferve, that, by concluding the fecond act here, time is given for Baffanio's paffage to Belmont. SCENE |