My mistress will before the break of day Lor. Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him. But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, Some welcome for the mistress of the house. Enter Launcelot. Laun. Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, soia, sola! Enter Portia and Nerissa, at a distance. Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less. Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. Laun. Sola! did you see master Lorenzo, and When neither is attended; and, I think, mistress Lorenzo? sola, sola! Lor. Leave hollaing, man; here. Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their And yet no matter;-Why should we go in ? [Exit Stephano. Enter musicians. Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn; Jes. I am never merry, when I hear sweet music. Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive: Which is the hot condition of their blood; floods; Since nought so stockish, hard, and fuii of rage, Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music. (1) A small flet dish, used in the administration| of the Eucharist The nightingale, if she should sing by day, Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia. Lor. Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Lor. Madam, they are not yet; Go in, Nerissa, [A tucket2 sounds. It looks a little paler; 'tis a day, Such as the day is when the sun is hid. Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes, Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light; But God sort all!-You are welcome home, my lord. This is the man, this is Antonio, Por. You should in all sense be much bound to For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. [Gratiano and Nerissa seem to talk apart. Gra. By yonder moon, I swear, you do me wrong; (2) A flourish on a trumpet. form. In faith, gave it to the judge's clerk: Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value? Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, [Aside. Gra. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away Por. What ring gave you, my lord I would deny it; but you see my finger Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. Ner. Till I again see mine. Nor I in yours, Sweet Portia, ? | Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me, Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady? Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, I'll not deny him any thing I have, No, not my body, nor my husband's bed: Now, by mine honour, which is yet my own, Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd, Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforc'd wrong; Por. Mark you but that! Bass. Nay, but hear me : Ant. Here, lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor. Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways It comes from Padua, from Bellario: And but even now return'd; I have not yet Bass. No, by mine honour, madam, by my soul, Than you expect: unseal this letter soon; There you shall, three of your argosies Scene L I chanced on this letter. Ant. MERCHANT OF VENICE. I am dumb. Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not? Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold? Ner. Ay; but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man. Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow; When I am absent, then lie with my wife. Jat. Sweet lady, you have given me life, and For here I read for certain, that my ships Por. How now, Lorenzo? My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without fee. There do I give to you, and Jessica, From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, Por. And yet, I am sure, It is almost morning, you are not satisfied Of these events at full: Let us go in ; a And charge us there upon intergatories, 203 Gra. Let it be so: The first intergatory, [Exeunt. Of the Merchant of Venice the style is even and easy, with few peculiarities of diction, or anomalies of construction. The comic part raises laughter, and the serious fixes expectation. The probability of either one or the other story cannot be maintained. The union of two actions in one event is in this drama eminently happy. Dryden was much pleased with his own address in connecting the two plots of his Spanish Friar, which yet, believe, the critic will find excelled by this play. JOHNSON. AS YOU LIKE IT. PERSONS REPRESENTED. Duke, living in exile. William, a country fellow, in love with Audrey Frederick, brother to the Duke, and usurper of A person representing Hymen. his dominions. Oli. What mar you then, sir? Orl. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that SCENE I-An orchard, near Oliver's house. which God made, a poor unworthy brother of Enter Orlando and Adam. yours, with idleness. Oli. Marry, sir, be better employ'd, and be naught a while. Orl. Shall I keep your hogs, and eat husks with them? What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should come to such penury? Oli. Know you where you are, sir? Orl. O, sir, very well: here in your orchard. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me: By will, but a poor thousand crowns; and, as thou say'st, charged my brother, on his blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, he keeps me rustically at home, or, to Orl. Ay, better than he I am before knows me. speak more properly, stays me here at home un-I know you are my eldest brother, and, in the genkept: For call you that keeping for a gentleman tle condition of blood, you should so know me of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an The courtesy of nations allows you my better, in ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides that that you are the first-born; but the same tradition they are fair with their feeding, they are taught takes not away my blood, were there twenty brotheir manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: thers betwixt us: I have as much of my father in but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but me, as you; albeit, I confess, your coming before growth; for the which his animals on his dung-me is nearer to his reverence. hills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this Oli. What, boy! nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the some- Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too thing that nature gave me, his countenance seems young in this. to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, Oli. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as Orl. I am no villain:2 I am the youngest son of in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. sir Rowland de Bois; he was my father; and he This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit is thrice a villain, that says, such a father begot of my father, which I think is within me, begins villains: Wert thou not my brother, I would not to mutiny against this servitude: I will no longer take this hand from thy throat, till this other had endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how pulled out thy tongue for saying so; thou hast rail to avoid it. ed on thyself. Adam. Sweet masters, be patient; for your fa- Orl. I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. tament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. Jand have by underhand means laboured to dissuade Oli. And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is him from it; but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, spent? Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be Charles, it is the stubbornest young fellow of troubled with you: you shall have some part of France; full of ambition, an envious emulator of your will: I pray you, leave me. every man's good parts, a secret and villanous Orl. I will no further offend you than becomes contriver against me his natural brother; thereme for my good. fore use thy discretion; I had as lief thou didst Oli. Get you with him, you old dog. break his neck as his finger: And thou wert best Adam. Is old dog my reward? Most true, I look to't; for if thou dost him any slight disgrace, have lost my teeth in your service.-God be with or if he do not mightily grace himself on thee, he my old master, he would not have spoke such a will practise against thee by poison, entrap thee by word. [Exeunt Orlando and Adam. some treacherous device, and never leave thee till Oli. Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? he hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or I will physic your rankness, and yet give to thou- other: for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I sand crowns neither.-Holla, Dennis! Enter Dennis. Den. Calls your worship? Oli. Was not Charles, the Duke's wrests, here to speak with me? Den. So please you, he is here at the do importunes access to you. Oli. Call him in. [Exit Dennis.]-Twit good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. Enter Charles. r, and be a speak it, there is not one so young and so villanous this day living. I speak but brotherly of him but should I anatomize him to thee as he is, must blush and weep, and thou must look pale and wonder. Cha. I am heartily glad I came hither to you: If he come to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: If ever he go alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: And so, God keep your worship! [Exit. Oli. Farewell, good Charles.-Now will I stir this gamester: I hope, I shall see an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, hates nothing Cha. Good morrow to your worship. Oli. Good monsieur Charles! what's the new more than he. Yet he's gentle; never school'd, news at the new court? and yet learned; full of noble device; of all sorts Cha. There's no news at the court, sir, but the enchantingly beloved; and, indeed, so much in old news: that is, the old duke is banished by his the heart of the world, and especially of my own younger brother the new duke; and three or four people, who best know him, that I am altogether loving lords have put themselves into voluntary misprized: but it shall not be so long; this wrestler exile with him, whose lands and revenues enrich shall clear all: nothing remains, but that I kindle the new duke; therefore he gives them good leave the boy thither, which now I'll go about. [Exit. to wander. SCENE II-A lawn before the Duke's palace. Enter Rosalind and Celia. Oli. Can you tell, if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be banished with her father? Cha. O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, 50 loves her, being ever from their cradles bred together, that she would have followed her exile, Ros. Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am or have died to stay behind her. She is at the mistress of; and would you yet I were merrier? court, and no less beloved of her uncle than his Unless you could teach me to forget a banished own daughter; and never two ladies loved as father, you must not learn me how to remember they do. any extraordinary pleasure. Cel. I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. Oli. Where will the ola duke live? Cel. Herein, I see, thou lovest me not with the Cha. They say, he is already in the forest of full weight that I love thee: if my uncle, thy baArden, and a many merry men with him; and nished father, had banished thy uncle, the duke there they live like the old Robin Hood of England: my father, so thou hads't been still with me, I could they say, many young gentlemen flock to him every have taught my love to take thy father for mine; day; and fleet the time carelessly, as they did in the golden world. Oli. What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? so would'st thou, if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously temper'd as mine is to thee. Ros. Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to rejoice in yours. Cha. Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint Cel. You know, my father hath no child but I, you with a matter. I am given, sir, secretly to nor none is like to have; and, truly, when he dies, understand, that your younger brother, Orlando, thou shalt be his heir: for what he hath taken hath a disposition to come in disguis'd against me away from thy father perforce, I will render thee to try a fall: To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my again in affection; by mine honour, I will; and credit: and he that escapes me without some bro- when I break that oath, let me turn monster: thereken limb shall acquit him well. Your brother is fore, my sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. but young, and tender; and, for your love, I would Ros. From henceforth I will, coz, and devise be loath to foil him, as I must, for my own honour, sports: let me see; What think you of falling in if he come in: therefore, out of my love to you, I love? came hither to acquaint you withal; that either Cel. Marry, I pr'ythee, do, to make sport withal: you might stay him from his intendment, or brook but love no man in good earnest; nor no further in such disgrace well as he shall run into; in that it sport neither, than with safety of a pure blush thou is a thing of his own search, and altogether against may'st in honour come off again. my will. Ros. What shall be our sport then? Oli. Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, Cel. Let us sit and mock the good housewife, which thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. Í Fortune, from her wheel, that her gifts may hencehad myself notice of my brother's purpose herein, forth be bestowed equally. (1) A ready assent. (2) Frolicksome fellow. (3) Of all ranks |