Upon the wild sea-banks, and wav'd her love Jes. That did renew old son. Lor. In such a night, In such a night, Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew: And with an unthrift love did run from Venice, As far as Belmont. Jes. And in such a night, Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well; Lor. And in such a night, Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, Jes. I would out-night you, did nobody come: But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. Enter Stephano. Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night? Steph. A friend. Lor. A friend? what friend? your name, I pray you, friend? Steph. Štephano is my name; and I bring word, My mistress will before the break of day Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours. Lor. Who comes with her? Steph. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. 1 pray you, is my master yet return'd? Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him. But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house. Enter Launcelot. Laun. Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola, sola! Lor. Who calls? Laun. Sola! did you see master Lorenzo, and mistress Lorenzo! sola, sola! Lor. Leave hollaing, man; here. Laun. Sola! where? where? Lor. Here. Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news; my master will be here ere morning. [Exit. Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter;-Why should we go in? [Exit Stephano. Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins: Such harmony is in immortal souls; But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.— Enter musicians. Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn; Jes. I am never merry, when I hear sweet music. [Music. Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive: For do but note a wild and wanton herd, (1) A small flat dish, used in the administration of the Eucharist. Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud, If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music. Enter Portia and Nerissa, at a distance. Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less: Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. To their right praise, and true perfection!- Lor. [Music ceases. That is the voice, Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia. Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo, By the bad voice. Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare, Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Are they return'd? Lor. Madam, they are not yet; But there is come a messenger before, To signify their coming. Por. [A tucket sounds. Lor. Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet: We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not. Por. This night, methinks, is but the day-light sick, It looks a little paler; 'tis a day, Such as the day is when the sun is hid. Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their followers. Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes, If you would walk in absence of the sun. Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light; For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, And never be Bassanio so for me; But God sort all!-You are welcome home, my lord. Bass. I thank you, madam: give welcome to my friend. (1) A flourish on a trumpet. This is the man, this is Antonio, To whom I am so infinitely bound. Por. You should in all sense be much bound to him, For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. [Gratiano and Nerissa seem to talk apart. Gra, By yonder moon, I swear, you do me wrong; In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk: Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value? The clerk will ne'er wear hair on his face, that had it. Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk; Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, (1) Verbal, complimentary form. (2) Regardful |