Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the publick street,
Το gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces:

But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements;
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house.-By Jacob's staff, I swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
But I will go.-Go you before me, sirrah;
Say, I will come.

Laun

I will go before, sir.Mistress, look out at window, for all this; There will come a Christian by,

Will be worth a Jewess' eye.

[Exit.

Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?
Jes. His words were, Farewell, mistress; nothing

else.

Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder, Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day

More than the wild cat; drones hive not with me;
Therefore I part with him; and part with him
To one that I would have him help to waste

His borrowed purse.-Well, Jessica, go in;
Perhaps I will return immediately;

Do, as I bid you,

Shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find;

A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.

[Exit.

Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,

I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

[Exit

SCENE VI.

The same.

Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.

Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Desir'd us to make stand.

6 The patch] A term for a fool.

Salar.
His hour is almost past.
Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.

Salar. O, ten times faster, Venus' pigeons fly
To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont,
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast,
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,

The scarfed bark' puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth she return;
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!

Enter LORENZO.

Salar. Here comes Lorenzo ;-more of this here

after.

Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait; When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, I'll watch as long for you then.-Approach; Here dwells my father Jew:-Ho! who's within?

Enter JESSICA above, in boy's clothes.

Jes. Who are you? Tell me for more certainty, Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue. Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed; For who love I so much? and now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

7

· scarfed bark —] i. e. the vessel decorated with flags.

Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou

art.

Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much asham'd of my exchange: But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit; For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too, too light. Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love;

And I should be obscur'd.

Lor.

So are you, sweet,

Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.

But come at once;

For the close night doth play the run-away,

And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast.

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself With some more ducats, and be with you straight. [Exit, from above.

Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily:

For she is wise, if I can judge of her;
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true;
And true she is, as she hath prov'd herself;
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

Enter JESSICA, below.

What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away;
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.

[Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO.

Enter ANTONIO.

Ant. Who's there?

Gra. Signior Antonio?

Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano! where are all the rest? "Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you :No masque to-night; the wind is come about, Bassanio presently will go aboard:

I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail, and gone to-night.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII.

Belmont. A Room in Portia's House.

Flourish of Cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince of Morocco, and both their Trains.

Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince :—

Now make your choice.

Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears ;Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. The second, silver, which this promise carries ;Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt ;Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. How shall I know if I do choose the right?

Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince; If you choose that, then I am yours withal.

Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see,
I will survey the inscriptions back again:
What says this leaden casket?

Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
Must give-For what? for lead? hazard for lead?
This casket threatens: Men, that hazard all,

Do it in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross;
I'll then nor give, nor hazard, aught for lead.

What says the silver, with her virgin hue?
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
As much as he deserves?-Pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand:
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
And yet to be afeard of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of myself.

As much as I deserve!-Why, that's the lady:
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding;
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no further, but chose here?—
Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold:
Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire.
Why, that's the lady: all the world desires her:
From the four corners of the earth they come,
To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint.
The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia :
The watry kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar

To stop the foreign spirits; but they come
As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.

One of these three contains her heavenly picture.

Is't like, that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation,
To think so base a thought: it were too gross
To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think, in silver she's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalued to try'd gold?
O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem

Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel

8 To rib-] i. e. inclose, as the ribs inclose the viscera.