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A SALARINO and SOLANIO.] The uncertain orthography of these names in the first folio, where we have at one time Salarino, at another Slarino, Solania, Salanio, Salino, and Salerio, has led to
such perplexity in their abbreviations prefixed to the speeches, that we are glad to avoid confusion by adopting the distinction proposed by Capell, of Salar. and Solan. as prefixes.
say, when ?
That I have much ado to know myself.
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, SALAR. Your mind is tossing on the ocean ; And laugh, like parrots, at a bagpiper ; There where your argosies,“ with portly sail,- And other of such vinegar aspect, Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood, That they'll not show their teeth in way of sıníle, Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,- Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
Solan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble That curt'sy to them, do them reverence,
kinsman, As they fly by them with their woven wings. Gratiano, and Lorenzo : Fare
you SOLAN. Believe me, sir, had I such venture We leave you now with better company, forth,
SALAR. I would have stay'd till I had made you The better part
And you embrace the occasion to depart.
Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? But I should think of shallows and of flats; And see my wealthy Andrew dock’d* in sand, You grow exceeding strange: must it be so ? Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs,
SALAR. We'll make our leisures to attend on To kiss her burial. Should I go to church,
yours. [Exeunt SALARINO and SOLANTO. And see the holy edifice of stone,
LOR. My lord Bassanio, since you have found And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,
I pray you have in mind where we musť meet. Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks,
BASS. I will not fail you. And, in a word, but even now worth this,
Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio ; And now worth nothing ? Shall I have the thought You have too much respect upon the world : To think on this ; and shall I lack the thought They lose it that do buy it with much care ; That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me Believe me, you are marvellously chang’d. sad ?
Ant. I hold the world but as the world, But tell not me; I know, Antonio
Gratiano ; Is sad to think upon his merchandise.
A stage, where every man must play a part, Ant. Believe me, no; I thank my fortune for And mine a sad one. it,
Let me play the Fool: My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
And let my liver rather heat with wine, Upon the fortune of this present year:
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Therefore
merchandise makes me not sad. Why should a man whose blood is warm within Salar. Why, then you are in love.
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? ANT.
Sleep when he wakes ? and creep into the jaundice SALAR. Not in love neither? Then let us say, By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ;
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion
you are sad
(*) old text, docks. a There where your argosies,-] Argosies were ships of huge bulk and burden, adapted either for commerce or war, and supposed to have been named from the classic ship Argo.
Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind;] A blade of grass held up to indicate, by the way it bends, the direction of
the wind, is a very primitive kind of weather vane. Sailors, with whom grass is usually harder to come by than even to Venetians, adopt one equally simple and always at hand: they moisten a finger in the mouth, and holding it up, judge by a sensible coldness on one side the digit, whence the wind blows.
c My wealthy Andrew--] This name for a ship, it is not unlikely, was derived from the famous naval hero, Andrew Doria.
As who should say, I am sir Oracle, *
By something showing a more swelling port" And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! Than my faint means would grant continuance: 0, my Antonio, I do know of these,
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg’d That therefore only are reputed wise,
From such a noble rate; but
my For saying nothing; who, t I am very sure, Is to come fairly off from the great debts If they should speak, would almost damn those Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
Hath left me gag'd. To you, Antonio, Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, I owe the most in money and in love; fools.
And from your love I have a warranty I'll tell thee more of this another time:
To unburthen all my plots and purposes, But fish not with this melancholy bait,
How to get clear of all the debts I owe. For this fool-gudgeon, this opinion.
Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know Come, good Lorenzo :Fare ye well, a while; And, if it stand, as you yourself still do, I'll end my exhortation after dinner.
Within the eye of honour, be assur’d, LOR. Well, we will leave you then till dinner- My purse, my person, my extremest means, time:
Lie all unlock'd to your occasions. I must be one of these same dumb wise men, Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one For Gratiano never lets me speak. Gra. Well, keep me company but two years
I shot his fellow of the self-same flight more,
The self-same way, with more advised watch, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own To find the other forth ;d and by adventuring both tongue.
I oft found both :(1) I urge this childhood proof, Ant. Farewell:I'll grow a talker for this gear.
Because what follows is pure innocence. Gra. Thanks, i' faith ; for silence is only com- I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth, mendable
That which I owe is lost: but if you please In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. To shoot another arrow that self way
(Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO. Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, Ant. Is that anything now?
As I will watch the aim, or to find both, Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of Or bring your latter hazard back again, nothing, more than any man in all Venice: his And thankfully rest debtor for the first. reasons are as|| two grains of wheat hid in two Ant. You know me well, and herein spend but bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you
time, find them; and when you have them they are not To wind about my love with circumstance; o worth the search.
And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is the same In making question of my uttermost, To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
you had made waste of all I have. That you to-day promis'd to tell me of?
Then do but say to me what I should do, Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, That in your knowledge may by me be done, How much I have disabled mine estate,
And I am prest' unto it: therefore speak.
(*) First folio, sir, an oracle. (t) Old copies, when. (1) First folio, far you well. ($) Old copies, it is.
(1) First folio omits, as. a If they should speak, would almost damn those ears
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, fools.) The meaning seems to be: There are people whose reputation for wisdom depends upon their purposed silence, who, if they could be brought to speak, would so expose their emptiness, that the hearers could hardly escape the penalty denounced on those who call their brethren fools; but the idea is not clearly expressed.
• A more swelling port-] A more ostentatious state. See note (b), p. 235.
€ As you yourself still do,-) That is, always, ever do. This signification of the word is frequent in Shakespeare, although no commentator that I remember has noticed it.
- with more advised watch,
To find the other forth;] "To find forth," says an accomplished critic on the language of Shakespeare, “may, I apprehend, be safely pronounced to be neither English nor sense." It may not be English of the present day, but it was thought good sense and good English in the time of our author. Forth here means out,– "To find the other out," and with this import the word is used in the following, and in a hundred other, instances. " Who, falling there to find his fellow forth."
Comedy of Errors, Act I. Sc. 2.
(*) First folio omits, me now. Where we have again the identical expression, "find forth." “ Go on before; I shall inquire you forth."
Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act II. Sc. 4. -for at this time the jealous rascally knave, her husband, will be forth."-Merry Wives of Windsor, Act II. Sc. 2. And already in this very play,
"Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth." To wind about my love with circumstance;] Circumstance, for circumlocution, or "going about the bush," as the old lexicographers define it, though in common use formerly, has now become quite obsolete :“Therefore it must, with circumstance, be spoken"
Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act III. Sc. 2. " And not without some scandal to yourself,
With circumstance and oaths, so to deny
This chain.”—The Comedy of Errors, Act V. Sc. 1. " And so, without more circumstance at all, I hold it fit that we shake hands and part."
Hamlet, Act I, Sc. 5. f And I am prest unto il:] Prest, signifying ready, is, as Steevens remarks, of common occurrence in the old writers; but it may be doubted whether in this instance the word is not used in the current sense of bound or urged.
Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this And she is fàir, and, fairer than that word, reasoning* is not in thet fashion to choose me a Of wondrous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes husband :-0 me, the word choose! I may neither I did receive fair speechless messages :
choose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike; Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalued so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.
will of a dead father :-Is it I not hard, Nerissa, Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth ; that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none ? For the four winds blow in from every coast
NER. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy Renowned suitors: and her sunny locks
men at their death have good inspirations; thereHang on her temples like a golden fleece ; fore, the lottery that he hath devised in these three Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' chests, of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who strand,
chooses his meaning chooses you,) will, no doubt, And many Jasons come in quest of her.
never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you O, my Antonio ! had I but the means
shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in To hold a rival place with one of them,
your affection towards any of these princely suitors I have a mind presages me such thrift,
that are already come? That I should questionless be fortunate.
Por. I pray thee, overname them; and as thou Ant. Thou know'st that all my fortunes are at namest them I will describe them; and according Neither have I money, nor commodity
to my description level at my affection. To raise a present sum: therefore go forth,
NER. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. Try what my credit can in Venice do ;
Por. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth That shall be rack’d, even to the uttermost, nothing but talk of his horse ; and he makes it a To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. great appropriation to his own good parts that he Go, presently inquire, and so will I,
can shoe him himself: I am much afraid my lady Where money is; and I no question make, his mother played false with a smith. To have it of my trust, or for my sake. [Exeunt. NER. Then, is there the county Palatine.(2)
Por. He doth nothing but frown ;
should say, An you will not have me, choose ; SCENE II.-Belmont. A Room in Portia's
he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear he House.
will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows
old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.
youth. I had rather be g married to a death's head
with a bone in his mouth, than to either of these. Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is God defend me from these two ! a-weary of this great world.
NER. How say you by the French lord, monsieur NER. You would be, sweet madam, if your le Bon ? miseries were in the same abundance as your good Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass fortunes are; and yet, for aught I see, they are as for a man.
In truth, I know it is a sin to be a sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve mocker ; but he ! why, he hath a horse better with nothing. It is no mean * happiness, therefore, than the Neapolitan's; a better bad habit of to be seated in the mean ; superfluity comes sooner frowning than the count Palatine: he is every by white hairs, but competency lives longer. man in no man : if a throstle || sing he falls straight Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. a capering; he will fence with his own shadow: NER. They would be better, if well followed. if I should marry him I should marry twenty
Por. If to do were as easy as to know what husbands : if he would despise me I would forgive were good to do, chapels had been churches, and him; for if he love me to madness I shall never poor men's cottages princes palaces. It is a requite him. good divine that follows his own instructions: I NER. What say you then to Fauconbridge, the can easier teach twenty what were good to be young baron of England ? done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine Por. You know I say nothing to him ; for he own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the understands not me, nor I him: he hath neither blood; but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree : Latin, French, nor Italian ; b and you will come such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the into the court, and swear that I have a poor
(*) First folio, small. * Sometimes.) Sometimes here means, formerly, in other times. 6 He hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian ;) This satirical allusion to our ignorance in " the tongues" has not yet lost all its point.
(*) First folio, reason.
(t) First folio omits, the
pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's Ner. True, madam ; he, of all the men that picture ;* but, alas ! who can converse with a dumb ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best show? How oddly he is suited! I think he deserving a fair lady. bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in Por. I remember him well; and I remember France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour him worthy of thy praise. everywhere.
NER. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour ?
Enter a Servant. Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in
How now! what news ? * him; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the
Serv. The four strangers seek fort you, madam, Englishman, and swore he would pay him again
to take their leave: and there is a forerunner come when he was able: I think the Frenchman became
from a fifth, the prince of Morocco ; who brings his surety, and sealed under for another. NER. How like you the young German, the
word, the prince, his master, will be here to-night.
Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so duke of Saxony's nephew ?
Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is good heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he
should be glad of his approach : if he have the
conditiond of a saint, and the complexion of a devil, is drunk : when he is best, he is a little worse than
I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I
Come, Nerissa. Sirrah, go before;
Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another hope I shall make shift to go without him.
knocks at the door.
[Exeunt. 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. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray
SCENE III.-Venice. A Public Place. thee set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket; for, if the devil be within, and
Enter BassANIO and SHYLOCK.(3) that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married SHY. Three thousand ducats,—well. to a sponge.
Bass. Ay, sir, for three months. NER. You need not fear, lady, the having any Shy. For three months, -well. of these lords: they have acquainted me with their Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio determinations : which is, indeed, to return to shall be bound. their home, and to trouble you with no more suit; Shy. Antonio shall become bound, well. unless you may be won by some other sort than Bass. May you stead me? Will you pleasure your father's imposition, depending on the caskets. me? Shall I know your answer ?
Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla I will die SHY. Three thousand ducats, for three months, as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the and Antonio bound. manner of my father's will. I am glad this parcel Bass. Your answer to that. of wooers are so reasonable ; for there is not one Shy. Antonio is a good man. among them but I dote on his very absence, and I Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the pray God grant them a fair departure.
contrary? NER. Do you not remember, lady, in your Say. Ho! no, no, no, no;—my meaning in father's time, a Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, saying he is a good man, is, to have you underthat came hither in company of the marquis of stand me that he is sufficient : yet his means are Montferrat?
in supposition : he hath an argosy bound to Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so Tripolis, another to the Indies ; I understand was he called
moreover upon the Rialto, he hath a third at
* A proper man's picture;] Proper meant handsome, comely. The word with this import is so common, that it is needless to give examples; they may be found in every play of the time.
b The Scottish lord,-) So the quartos, which were printed before the accession of James I. The folio, 1623, reads, "the other lord," to avoid giving offence to the king and his countrymen.
c I pray God grant them-) The first folio, in obedience to the Act passed in the reign of James I. prohibiting the profane use of holy names, has, " I wish them a fair departure."
. The condition of a saint,-) Condition for, nature, disposition, as in “ Richard III." Act IV. Sc. 4:
(*) First folio omits, How now ! &c.
(1) First folio omits, for.
That cannot brook the accent of reproof."
she is full of most bless'd condition."
-“ A good man, I have enquired him, eighteen hundred a year. The Devil is an Ass, Act III. Sc. 1.