No masque to-night; the wind is come about;
Bassanio presently will go aboard:

I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I am glad on't: I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail, and gone to-night. [Exeunt.

SCENE VII. Belmont.

A Room in PORTIA'S House.

Flourish of Cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince of Morocco, and both their Trains.

Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince :

Now make your choice.

Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription

bears; "Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire."

The second, silver, which this promise carries; "Who chooseth me shall get as much as he de

serves."

This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt; "Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath."

How shall I know if I do choose the right?

Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince: If you choose that, then I am yours withal.

Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see, I will survey the inscriptions back again : What says this leaden casket?

"Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath."

Must give For what? for lead? hazard for lead? This casket threatens: Men, that hazard all,

Do it in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross;
I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead.
What says the silver, with her virgin hue?

"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he de serves."

As much as he deserves? - Pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand :
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
And yet to be afeard of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of myself.

As much as I deserve! — Why, that's the lady:
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding;
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no further, but chose here?
Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold :
"Who chooseth me shall gain what many mer

desire."

Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her:
From the four corners of the earth they come,
To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint.
The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia :
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spets in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.

One of these three contains her heavenly picture.

Is't like, that lead contains her? "Twere damnation
To think so base a thought: it were too gross
To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.

Or shall I think in silver she's immur'd,

Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem

Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel

Stamped in gold,' but that's insculp'd upon;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within. - Deliver me the key;

Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may !

Por. There, take it, prince, and if my form li

there,

Then I am yours.

Mor.

[He unlocks the golden casket.

O hell! what have we here?

A carrion death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll: I'll read the writing.

All that glisters is not gold;

Often have you heard that told:

This is the angel referred to by Falstaff in his interview with the Chief Justice: "Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light." It appears to have been the national coin in Shakespeare's time. The custom of stamping an angel upon the coin is thus explained by Verstegan in his Restitution of Decayed Intelligence: " The name of Engel is yet at this present in all the Teutonic tongues as much as to say, an Angel; and if a Dutchman be asked how he would in his language call an Angel-like-man, he would answer. ein English-man. And such reason and consideration may have moved our former kings, upon their best coin of pure and fine gold, to set the image of an angel, which hath as well been used before the Norman Conquest, as since." Readers of Wordsworth will be apt to remember, in this connection, a fine passage in one of his Ecclesiastical Sonnets:

"A bright-haired company of youthful slaves,
Beautiful strangers, stand within the pale
Of a sad market, ranged for public sale,
Where Tiber's stream the immortal City laves:
ANGLI by name; and not an ANGEL waves
His wing, who could seem lovelier to man's eye
Than they appear to holy Gregory;

Who, having learnt that name, salvation craves
For Them, and for their Land."

H.

Many a man his life hath sold,
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms infold.
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscroll'd:
Fare you well; your suit is cold.

Cold, indeed, and labour lost:

Then, farewell, heat; and welcome, frost.

Portia, adieu!

I have too griev'd a heart

To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.

[Exit.

Por. A gentle riddance.— Draw the curtains; go:

Let all of his complexion choose me so.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VIII. Venice. A Street.

Enter SALARINO and SOLANIO.

Sal. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail: With him is Gratiano gone along;

And in their ship, I am sure, Lorenzo is not.

Sol. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the Duke, Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.

Sal. He came too late, the ship was under sail;
But there the Duke was given to understand,
That in a gondola were seen together

Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica :
Besides, Antonio certified the Duke,
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

Sol. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets:

66

My daughter! —O my ducats! --- O my daughter! Fled with a Christian? - O my Christian ducats! Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!

A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,

Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels! two stones, two rich and precious stones,
Stol'n by my daughter! Justice! find the girl!
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats!"

Sal. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying,—his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
Sol. Let good Antonio look he keep his day,
Or he shall pay for this.

Sal.

Marry, well remember'd. I reason'd with a Frenchman yesterday, Who told me, in the narrow seas, that part The French and English, there miscarried A vessel of our country, richly fraught: I thought upon Antonio, when he told me, And wish'd in silence that it were not his.

Sol. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear: Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

Sal. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth
I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:

Bassanio told him, he would make some speed
Of his return: he answer'd – "Do not so;
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time;

And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love:
Be merry; and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtship and such fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently become you there."
And even there, his eye being big with tears,

2

1 To slubber is to do a thing carelessly. Thus, in Fuller's Worthies of Yorkshire: Slightly slubbering it over, doing something for show, and nothing to purpose." Likewise, in Song 21 of Drayton's Poly-Olbion :

"Not such as basely soothe the humour of the time,

And slubberingly patch up some slight and shallow rhyme." H.
Shows, tokens. See sc. 2, note 16.