Not to deny me, and to pardon me. Por. You press me far, and therefore I will yield. [To Ant.] Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake; (To Bass. And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you: Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no more; And you in love shall not deny me this. Bass. This ring, good sir, alas, it is a trifle! I will not shame myself to give you this. 431 Por. I will have nothing else but only this; And now methinks I have a mind to it. Bass. There's more depends on this than on the value. The dearest ring in Venice will I give you, Por. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers: 441 Lor. Leave hollaing, man: here. Laun. Tell him there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news: my master will be here ere morning. (Exit. Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter: why should we go in? 50 [Exit Stephano. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins; Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. Enter Musicians. 61 Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, Enter PORTIA and NERISSA. Por. That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little candle throws his beams! go So shines a good deed in a naughty world. Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle. Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less: A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by, and then his state Empties itself, as doth an inland brook Into the main of waters. Music! hark! Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect: Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day. Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended, and I think The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season season'd are To their right praise and true perfection! Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion And would not be awaked. [Music ceases. Lor. That is the voice, 110 Or I am much deceived, of Portia. Por. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, By the bad voice. Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. Por. We have been praying for our husbands' healths, Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Lor. Por. Go in, Nerissa: Give order to my servants that they take No note at all of our being absent hence; Nor you, Lorenzo; Jessica, nor you. 120 [A tucket sounds. Lor. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet: We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not. It looks a little paler: 'tis a day, Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes, If you would walk in absence of the sun. Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light: For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, 130 And never be Bassanio so for me: But God sort all! You are welcome home, my lord. Bass. I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend. This is the man, this is Antonio, To whom I am so infinitely bound. Por. You should in all sense be much bound to him, For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. 140 Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk: Por. A quarrel, ho, already! what's the matter? That you would wear it till your hour of death And that it should lie with you in your grave: Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, You should have been respective and have kept it. Gave it a judge's clerk! no, God's my judge, The clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that had it. 160 Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy, No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk, A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee: I could not for my heart deny it him. Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you. 170 To part so slightly with your wife's first gift; Bass. [Aside] Why, I were best to cut my left hand off And swear I lost the ring defending it. 180 Gra. My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away I would deny it; but you see my finger Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. Nor I in yours Ner. Till I again see mine. Bass. Sweet Portia, If you did know to whom I gave the ring, 190 200 When nought would be accepted but the ring, 210 Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady? I was enforced to send it after him; The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. 220 Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house: Since he hath got the jewel that I loved, I'll not deny him any thing I have, Lie not a night from home; watch me like If you do not, if I be left alone, 230 Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advised Bass. Nay, but hear me : Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear I never more will break an oath with thee. Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth; Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again, My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord Will never more break faith advisedly. Por. Then you shall be his surety. Give him this And bid him keep it better than the other. Ant. Here, Lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor! Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; For, by this ring, the doctor lay with me. 259 Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this last night did lie with me. Gra. Why, this is like the mending of high ways In summer, where the ways are fair enough: Here is a letter; read it at your leisure; Ant. Ner. Ay, but the clerk that never means to Unless he live until he be a man. And yet I am sure you are not satisfied 300 Gra. Let it be so: the first inter'gatory Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bed- Or go to bed now, being two hours to day: When I am absent, then lie with my wife. But were the day come, I should wish it dark, Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life and Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing living: So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. [Exeunt. SCENE I. Orchard of OLIVER's house. Enter ORLANDO and ADAM. Orl. As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion bequeathed me by will but poor a thou sand crowns, and, as thou sayest, 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 speak more properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses are bred better; for, besides that they are fair with their feeding, they are taught their manage, and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the which his animals on his dunghills are as much bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I think is within me, begins to mutiny against this servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I know no wise remedy how to avoid it. Adam. Yonder comes my master, your brother. Orl. Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will shake me up. Enter OLIVER. Oli. Now, sir! what make you here? Orl. thing. 30 SIR OLIVER MARTEXT, a vicar. SILVIUS, shepherds. WILLIAM, a country fellow, in love with A person representing Hymen. ROSALIND, daughter to the banished duke. AUDREY, a country wench. Lords, pages, and attendants, &c. SCENE: Oliver's house; Duke Frederick's court; and the Forest of Arden. Orl. Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. Oli. Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile. 39 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? me. Orl. O, sir, very well: here in your orchard. Orl. Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. Ol. Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? Orl. I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice a villain that says such a father begot villains. Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself. Adam. Sweet masters, be patient: for your I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My father charged you in his will to give me good education: you have trained me like a peasant, obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like qualities. The spirit of my father Nothing: I am not taught to make any grows strong in me, and I will no longer endure Oli. What mar you then, sir? it: therefore allow me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or give me the poor allottery |