To find the other forth; and by advent'ring 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 loft: 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 reft 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 wrong,

In making question of my uttermoft,

Than if you had made waste of all I have:
Then do but fay to me what I should do,
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am preft unto it: therefore, speak.
Baff. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And the is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wond'rous virtues; fometimes from her eyes
I did receive fair speechlefs meffages:
Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalued
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 fuitors: and her funny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her feat of Belmont, Colchos' ftrand,
And many Jafons 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 prefages me fuch thrift,
That I fhould questionless be fortunate.

Ant.

Ant. Thou know'ft, that all my fortunes art at fea;

Nor have I money, nor commodity

To raise a prefent fum; 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 fo will I,
Where money is; and I no question make,
To have it of my trust, or for my fake.

SCENE II.

Belmont. A Room in Portia's Houfe.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.

[Exeunt.

Por. By my troth, Neriffa, my little body is aweary 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 starve with nothing: It is no mean happiness therefore, to be feated in the mean; fuperfluity comes fooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. Por. Good fentences, and well pronounced.

Ner. They would be better, if well followed.

Por. If to do were as eafy 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 inftructions: 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 devife laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree: fuch a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counfel

B 4

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 curb'd by the will of a dead father.-Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose 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 devised in these three chefts, of gold, filver, and lead, (whereof who chooses his meaning, chooses you,) will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you fhall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely fuitors that are already come?

Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them; and, according to my defcription, 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 fhoe him himself: I am much afraid, my lady his mother played false with a fmith.

Ner. Then, is there the county Palatine.

Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who should say, An if you will not have me, choose; he hears merry tales, and fmiles not: I fear, he will prove the weeping philofopher when he grows old, being fo full of unmannerly fadness in his youth, I had rather be married to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, than to either of these, God defend me from these two!

Ner. How fay you by the French lord, Monfieur Le Bon?

Por. God made him, and therefore let him pafs for a

man.

man. In truth, I know it is a fin to be a mocker; But, he! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's ; a better bad habit of frowning than the count Palatine : he is every man in no man: if a throftle fing, he falls ftraight a capering; he will fence with his own shadow: if I fhould marry him, I should marry twenty husbands: If he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if he love me to madness, I fhall never requite him.

Ner. What fay you then to Faulconbridge, the young baron of England?

Por. You know, I fay nothing to him; for he understands not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you will come into the court and swear, that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's picture; But, alas! who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is suited! I think, he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hofe in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour every where. Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour?

Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again, when he was able: I think, the Frenchman became his furety, and sealed under for another. Ner. How like you the young German, the duke of Saxony's nephew?

Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is fober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: when he is beft, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is a little better than a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I hope, I shall make shift to go without him. Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you should refuse to accept him.

Por,

Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee fet a deep glass of Rhenifh wine on the contrary cafket: for, if the devil be within, and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do any thing, Neriffa, ere I will be married to a fpunge.

Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of thefe lords; they have acquainted me with their determinations: which is indeed, to return to their home, and to trouble you with no more fuit; unless you may be won by fome othe fort than your father's impofition, depending on the cafkets

Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chafte as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my fa ther's will: I am glad this parcel of wooers are fo reafonable; for there is not one among them but 1 dote on his very abfence, and I pray God grant them a fair departure.

Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a Venetian, a fcholar, and a foldier, that came hither in company of the Marquis of Montferrat?

Por. Yes, yes, it was Baffanio; as I think, fo was he called.

Ner. True, madam; he, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes look'd upon, was the beft deferving a fair lady. Por. I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of thy praife.-How now what news?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. The four ftrangers feek for you, madam, to take their leave and there is a fore-runner come from a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who brings word, the prince, his mafter, will be here to-night.

Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with fo good heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I fhould be glad of his approach: if he have the condition of a faint, and the

complexion