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THE MERCHANT OF

Ν

VENICE

Actus primus.

[Scene i. Venice. A street.]

Enter Anthonio, Salarino, and Salanio

Anthonio.

IN sooth I know not why I am so sad,

It wearies me: you say it wearies you;

But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuffe 'tis made of, whereof it is borne,

I am to learne: and such a Want-wit sadnesse makes of

mee,

That I have much ado to know my selfe.

Sal. Your minde is tossing on the Ocean, There where your Argosies with portly saile Like Signiors and rich Burgers on the flood, Or as it were the Pageants of the sea,

7. borne: born-3-4F.

8-9. new 1. at And-3Q.

Do over-peere the pettie Traffiquers

That curtsie to them, do them reverence

As they flye by them with their woven wings.
Salar. Beleeve me sir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections, would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grasse to know where sits the winde,
Peering in Maps for ports, and peers, and rodes:
And every object that might make me feare
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
Would make me sad.

Sal. My winde cooling my broth,

Would blow me to an Ague, when I thought
What harme a winde too great might doe at sea.
I should not see the sandie houre-glasse runne,
But I should thinke of shallows, and of flats,
And see my wealthy Andrew docks in sand,
Vailing1 her high top lower then her ribs.
To kisse her buriall; should I goe to Church
And see the holy edifice of stone,

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1 lowering

And not bethinke me straight of dangerous rocks,
Which touching but my gentle Vessels side
Would scatter all her spices on the streame,
Enrobe the roring waters with my silkes,
And in a word, but even now worth this,

And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought
To thinke on this, and shall I lacke the thought
That such a thing bechaunc'd would make me sad?
But tell not me, I know Anthonio

Is sad to thinke upon his merchandize.

4I

Anth. Beleeve me no, I thanke my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottome trusted,

28. might doe at sea: at sea might do-IQ.

31. docks: dock'd-Rowe.

Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
Upon the fortune of this present yeere:
Therefore my merchandize makes me not sad.
Sola. Why then you are in love.

Anth. Fie, fie.

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Sola. Not in love neither: then let us say you are sad Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easie For you to laugh and leape, and say you are merry Because you are not sad. Now by two-headed Janus, Nature hath fram'd strange fellowes in her time: Some that will evermore peepe through their eyes, And laugh like Parrats at a bag-piper.

And other of such vineger aspect,

That they'll not shew their teeth in way of smile 60 Though Nestor sweare the jest be laughable.

Enter Bassanio, Lorenso, and Gratiano.

Sola. Heere comes Bassanio,

Your most noble Kinsman,

Gratiano, and Lorenso. Faryewell,

We leave you now with better company.

Sala. I would have staid till I had made you merry,

If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Ant. Your worth is very deere in my regard.

I take it your owne busines calls on you,
And you embrace th'occasion to depart.
Sal. Good morrow my good Lords.

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Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when? |

You grow exceeding strange: must it be so?

Sal. Wee'll make our leysures to attend on yours. Exeunt Salarino, and Solanio.

Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Anthonio

We two will leave you, but at dinner time

I

pray you have in minde where we must meete. Bass. I will not faile you.

Grat. You looke not well signior Anthonio,

You have too much respect upon the world:
They loose it that doe buy it with much care,
Beleeve me you are marvellously chang❜d.

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Ant. I hold the world but as the world Gratiano, A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one.

Grati. Let me play the foole,

With mirth and laughter let old wrinckles come,
And let my Liver rather heate with wine,
Then my heart coole with mortifying grones.
Why should a man whose bloud is warme within,
Sit like his Grandsire, cut in Alablaster?
Sleepe when he wakes? and creep into the Jaundies
By being peevish? I tell thee what Anthonio,
I love thee, and it is my love that speakes:
There are a sort of men, whose visages
Do creame and mantle like a standing pond,
And do a wilfull stilnesse entertaine,
With purpose to be drest in an opinion
Of wisedome, gravity, profound conceit,
As who should say, I am sir an Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dogge barke.
O my Anthonio, I do know of these
That therefore onely are reputed wise,
For saying nothing; when I am verie sure

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If they should speake, would almost dam those eares Which hearing them would call their brothers fooles: Ile tell thee more of this another time.

93. Alablaster: alabaster-POPE.

102. sir an Oracle: Sir Oracle-Q2.

But fish not with this melancholly baite
For this foole Gudgin, this opinion:
Come good Lorenzo, faryewell a while,
Ile end my exhortation after dinner.

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Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner time. I must be one of these same dumbe wise men, For Gratiano never let's me speake.

Gra. Well, keepe me company but two yeares mo, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine owne tongue. Ant. Far you well, Ile grow a talker for this geare. Gra. Thankes ifaith, for silence is onely commendable In a neats tongue dri'd, and a maid not vendible. Exit. Ant. It is that any thing now.

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Bas. Gratiano speakes an infinite deale of nothing, more then any man in all Venice, his reasons are two graines of wheate hid in two bushels of chaffe: you shall seeke all day ere you finde them, & when you have them they are not worth the search.

An. Well: tel me now, what Lady is the same
To whom you swore a secret Pilgrimage
That you to day promis'd to tel me of?

Bas. Tis not unknowne to you Anthonio

How much I have disabled mine estate,
By something shewing a more swelling port
Then my faint meanes would grant continuance:
Nor do I now make mone to be abridg'd
From such a noble rate, but my cheefe care
Is to come fairely off from the great debts
Wherein my time something too prodigall
Hath left me gag'd: to you Anthonio
I owe the most in money, and in love,
And from your love I have a warrantie

122. It is that: Is that-Rowe.

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