PERSONS REPRESENTED. DUKE OF VENICE. PRINCE OF MOROCCO, PRINCE OF ARRAGON, } suitors to Portia. ANTONIO, the Merchant of Venice. BASSANIO, his friend. SALANIO, SALARINO, friends to Antonio and Bassanio. GRATIANO, LORENZO, in love with Jessica. SHYLOCK, a Jew. TUBAL, a Jew, his friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a clown, servant to Shylock. SALERIO, a messenger from Venice. PORTIA, a rich heiress. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, SCENE, partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia, on the Continent. MERCHANT OF VENICE. ACT THE FIRST. SCENE I. Venice. A Street. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO. Antonio. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad; It wearies me; you say, it wearies you; And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; That curt'sy to them, do them reverence, The better part of my affections would 1 Ships of large burden. 1 : 1 And every object, that might make me fear Would make me sad. Salar. My wind, cooling my broth, Would blow me to an ague, when I thought What harm a wind too great might do at sea. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, But I should think of shallows and of flats; And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs, To kiss her burial. Should I go to church, And see the holy edifice of stone, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks? Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream; Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks; And, in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing! Shall I have the thought To think on this; and shall I lack the thought, That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me sad? But, tell not me; I know, Antonio Is sad to think upon his merchandize. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this present year: Therefore, my merchandize makes me not sad. Salan. Why then you are in love. Ant. Fye, fye! Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say, you are sad, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy Janus, Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper; Enter BASSANIO, Lorenzo, and GRATIANO. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well; We leave you now with better company. Salar. I would have staid till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Say, when? You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so? We two will leave you: but, at dinner time, Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; 1 Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. Gra. Let me play the Fool: |