Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio ; Within the eye of honour, be assur'd,
You have too much respect upon the world: My purse, my person, my extremest means,
They lose it, that do buy it with much care. Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.
Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd. Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one
Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gra shaft,
tiano;

I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
A stage, where every man must play a part, The self-same way, with more advised watch,
And mine a sad one.

To find the other forth; and by advent'ring both, Gra.

Let me play the fool : I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof,
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; Because what follows is pure innocence.
And let my liver rather heat with wine,

I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. That which I owe is lost : but if you please
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, To shoot another arrow that self way
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?

Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
Sleep when he wakes ? and creep into the jaundice As I will watch the aim, or to find both,
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio, Or bring your latter hazard back again,
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ; And thankfully rest debtor for the first.
There are a sort of men, whose visages

Ant. You know me well; and herein spend but Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond;

time, And do a wilful stillness' entertain,

To wind about my love with circumstance; With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;

In making question of my uttermost, As who should say, I ani sir Oracle,

Than if you had made waste of all I have: And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark ! Then do but say to me what I should do, 0, my Antonio, I do know of these,

That in your knowledge may by me be done, That therefore only are reputed wise,

And I am prest? unto it: therefore, speak. For saying nothing; who, I am very sure,

Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, Ifthey should speak, would almost damn those ears, And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, Of wondrous virtues : sometimes: from her eyes fools.

I did receive fair speechless messages : I'll tell thee more of this another time:

Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalued But fish not with this melancholy bait,

To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia. For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.

Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth; Come, good Lorenzo :-Fare ye well, a while; For the four winds blow in from every coast I'll end my exhortation after dinner.

Renowned suitors; and her sunny locks Lor. Well

, we will leave you then till dinner-Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; time:

Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' strand, I must be one of these same dumb wise men, And many Jasons come in quest of her. For Gratiano never lets me speak.

O my Antonio, had I but the means Gra. Well, keep me company but two years To hold a rival place with one of them, more,

I have a mind presages me such thrift, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own That I should questionless be fortunate. tongue.

Ant. Thou know'st, that all my fortunes are at Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear.

sea ; Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for silence is only com- Nor have I money, nor commodity mendable

To raise a present sum: therefore go forth, In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. Try what my credit can in Venice do;

[Eceunt Gratiano and Lorenzo. That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, Int. Is that any thing now?

To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, Go, presently inquire, and so will I, more than any man in all Venice: His reasons are Where money is; and I no question make, as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; To have it of my trust, or for my sake. (Exeuni. you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when SCENE 11.—Belmont. A room in Portia's you have them, they are not worth the search.

house. Enter Portia and Nerissa. Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is this same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,

Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is That you to-day promis'd to tell me of? aweary of this great world.

Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseHow much I have disabled mine estate,

ries were in the same abundance as your good forBy something showing a more swelling port tunes are: And yet, for aught I see, they are as Than my faint means would grant continuance: sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd with nothing: It is no mean happiness therefore, to From such a noble rate; but my chief care be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by by to come fairly off from the great debts; Wherein my time, something too prodigal,

white hairs, but competency lives longer.

Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. Hath left me gaged: To you, Antonio,

Ner. They would be better, if well followed. I owe the most, in money, and in love ;

Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were And from your love I have a warranty

good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor To unburthen all my plots and purposes,

men's cottages, princes' palaces. It is a good dívine How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; twenty what were good to be done, than be one of And, if it stand, as you yourself still do, the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain 1) Obstinate silence. (2) Ready.

(3) Formerly.

may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I hope, I leaps over a cold decree : such a hare is madness shall make shift to go without him. the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion the right casket, you should refuse to perform your lo choose me a husband :-0 me, the word choose! father's will, if you should refuse to accept him. I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the concurb'd by the will of a dead father:- Is it not hard, trary casket : or, if the devil be within, and that Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none ? temptation without, I know he will choose it. I

Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I will be married to inen, at their death, have good inspirations; there- a spunge. fore, the lottery, that he hath devised in these three Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any chests, of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who of these lords; they have acquainted me with their chooses his meaning, chooses you,) will, no doubt, determinations : which is, indeed, to return to their never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you home, and to trouble you with no more suit; unless shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in you may be won by some other sort than your favour affection towards any of these princely suitors ther's imposition, depending on the caskets. that are already come ?

Por. If I live to be as old as Sybilla, I will die Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the pamest them, I will describe them; and, according manner of my father's will: I am glad this parcel to my description, level at my affection. of wooers are so reasonable ; for there is not one

Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. among them but I dote on his very absence, and I

Por. Ay, that's a colt,' indeed, for he doth no- pray God grant them a fair departure. thing but talk of his horse : and he makes it a great Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your l'aappropriation to his own good rarts, that he can ther's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, shoc him himself: I am much fraid, 'my lady, his that came hither in company of the Marquis of mother, played false with a smith.

Montlerrat ? Ner. Then is there the county? Palatine.

Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so Por. He does nothing but frown; as who should was he called. say, An if you will not have me, choose : he hears Ner. True, madam; he, of all the men that merry tales, and smiles not: I fear, he will prove ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best the weeping philosopher when he grows old, ining deserving a fair lady. so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth.' I had Por. I remember him well; and I remember rather be married to a death's head with a bone in him worthy of thy praise.—How now! what news ? his mouth, than to either of these. God defend me

Enter a Servant. from these two!

Ner. How say you by the French lord, Mon Serr. The four strangers seek for you, madam, sieur Le Bon ?

to take their leave: and there is a forerunner come Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass from a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who brings for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a word, the prince, his master, will he here to-night. mocker: But, he! why, he hath a horse better than Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so the Neapolitan's; a better bad habit of frowning good heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I than the count Palatine : he is every man in no should be glad of his approach: if he have the man: if a throstle sing, he falls straight a caper-condition of a saint, and the complexion of a devil, mg; he will fence with his own shadow: if I should I had rather he should shrive me than wire me. marry him, I should marry twenty husbands : In Come, Nerissa.-Sirrah, go before.-Wbiles we he would despise me, I would forgive him ; for if shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at he love me to madness, I shall never requite him.

the door.

(Ereunt. Ner. What say you then to Falconbridge, the SCENE III.–Venice. A public place. Enter young baron of England ? Por. You know, I say nothing to him: for he un

Bassanio and Shylock. derstands not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latin, Shy. Three thousand ducats,-well. French, nor Italian; and you will come into the Bass. Av, sir, for three months. court and swear, that i have a poor penny-worth Shy. For three months,-well. in the English. He is a proper man's picture But, alas! who can converse with a dumb show shall be bound.

Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio

} Ilow oddly he is suited! I think he bought his Shy. Antonio shall become bound, -well. doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bon Bass. May you stead me? Will you pleasure net in Germany, and his behaviour every where. me? Shall I know your answer ?

Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his Shy. Three thousand ducats, for three months, neighbour ?

and Antonio bound. Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him; Bass. Your answer to that. for he borrowed a box of the ear of the English-! Shy. Antonio is a good man. man, and swore he would pay him again, when he Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the was able : I think the Frenchman became his contrary? surety, and sealed under for another.

Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no ;-my meaning, in sav Ner. How like you the young German, the duke ing he is a good man, is to have you understand of Saxony's nephew ?

me, that he is sufficient : yet his means are in supPor. Very vilely in the morning, when he is so- position : he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, ber; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is another to the Indies : I understand moreover usor drunk: when he is best, he is a little worse than a the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for man; and when he is worst, he is little better than England, and other ventures he hath, squan (1) A heady, gay youngster. (2) Count.

.(3) Temper, qualities.

for;

sum.

derd abroad : But ships are but boards, sailors but And in the doing of the deed of kind," men: there be land-rats, and water-rats, water. He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes ; thieves, and land-thieves; I mean, pirates; and Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks: Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's. The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient;-three This was a way to thrive, and ne was blest; thousand ducats ;-I think I may take his bond. And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. Bass. Be assured you may.

Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd Shy. I will be assured I may; and, that I may be assured, I will bethink me: May I speak with a thing not in his power to bring to pass, Antonio ?

But sway'd and fashion'd, by the hand of heaven. Bass. If it please you to dine with us.

Was this inserted to make interest good ? Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habita-Or is your gold and silver, ewes and rams? tion which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured) Shy. I cannot tell: I make it breed as fast :the devil into : I will buy with you, sell with you, But note me, signior. talk with you, walk with you, and so following Ant.

Mark you inis, Bassanio, but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor The devil can cite scripture for his purpose, pray with you. What news on the Rialto ?-Who An evil soul, producing holy witness, is he comes here?

Is like a villain with a smiling cheek ;
Enter Antonio.

A goodly apple rotten at the heart;

0, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! Biss. This is signior Antonio.

Shy. Three thousand ducats, tis a good round Shy. (.Aside.) How like a fawning publican he looks!

Three months from twelve, then let me see the rate. I hate him, for he is a Christian:

Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you? But more, for that, in low simplicity,

Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft, He lends out money gratis, and brings down In the Rialto you have rated me The rate of usance here with us in Venice. About my monies, and my usances : If I can catch him once upon the hip,

Still have I borne it with a patient shrug; I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe: He hates our sacred nation ; and he rails, You call me-misbeliever, cut-throat dog, Even there where merchants most do congregate, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, Un me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, And all for use of that which is miné own. Which he calls interest: Cursed be my tribe, Well then, it now appears, you need my help: If I forgive him!

Go to then ; you come to me, and you say, Bass.

Shylock, do you hear ? Shylock, we would have monies ; You say so; Shy. I am debating of my present store; You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, And, by the near guess of my memory,

And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur I cannot instantly raise up the gross

Over your threshold ; monies is your suit.
Or full three thousand ducats : What of that ? What should I say to you? Should I not say,
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,

Hath a dog money? is it possible,
Will furnish me: But soft; How many months A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? or,
Do you desire ?-Rest you sair, good signior; Shall I bend low, and in a bondsman's key,

(To Antonio. With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness, Your worship was the last man in our mouths. Say this, —

Ant. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow, Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
By taking, nor by giving of excess,

You spurn'd me such a day; another time
Yet, to supply the ripe wants' of my friend, You call'd me-dog; and for these courtesies
I'!!'break a custom :-Is he yet possessed, I'll lend you thus much monies.
How much you would ?

Ant. I am as like to call thee so again,
Shy.

Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. ht. And for three months.

Ir thou wilt lend this money, lend it not Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told me so. As to thy friends (for when did friendship take Well then, your bond; and, let me see, -But A breed for barren metal of his friend?

But lend it rather to thine enemy;
Methought, you said, you neither lend, nor borrow, Who if he break, thou may'st with better face
Upon advantage.

Exact the penalty:
Ant.
I do never use it

Shy.

Why, look you, how you storm!
Shy. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's shecp, I would be friends with you, and have your love,
This Jacob from our holy Abraham was Forget the shames that you have staind me with,
(As his wise mother wrought in his behall,) Supply your present wants, and take no doit
The third possessor; ay, he was the third. of usance for my monies, and you'll not hear me :

Int. And what of him? did he take interest? This is kind I offer.
Shy. No, not take interest ; not, as you would say, Ant. This were kindness,
Directly interest: mark what Jacob did.

Shy.

This kindness will I show:-
When Laban and himself were compromis'd, Go with me to a notary, seal me there
That all the eanlings which were streak’d, and Your single bond ; and, in a merry sport,
pied,

If you repay me not on such a day,
Should fall as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being rank, In such a place, such sum, or sums, as are
In the end of autumn turned to the rams :

Express'd 'in the condition, let the forfeit
And when the work of generation was

Be nominated for an equal pound
Between these woolly breeders in the act, of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
The skilful shepherd peeld me certain wands, In what part of your body pleaseth me.
111 Wants which admit no longer delay.

(2) Informed. (3) Nature. (4) Interest.

hear you;.