But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Enter Musicians. Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn; [Music. If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, By the sweet power of music. Therefore, the poet Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, Enter PORTIA and NERISSA at a distance. Por. That light we see is burning in my hall. How far that little candle throws his beams! 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. 1 The folio editions, and the quarto printed by Roberts, read— "Such harmony is in immortal souls; But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close in it, we cannot hear it." A substitute shines brightly as a king, Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. To their right praise, and true perfection!- Lor. [Music ceases. That is the voice, 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' welfare, Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Are they returned? Lor. But there is come a messenger before, Madam, they are not yet; Go in, Nerissa; To signify their coming. Por. Give order to my servants, that they take No note at all of our being absent hence ;— Nor you, Lorenzo;-Jessica, nor you. [A tucket2 sounds. Lor. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet; We are no telltales, madam; fear you not. 1 Not absolutely, but relatively good, as it is modified by circumstances. 2 Toccato (Ital.), a flourish on a trumpet. Por. This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick, It looks a little paler; 'tis a day, Such as a day is when the sun is hid. Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their Followers. 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, 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. Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house. It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.* [GRATIANO and NERISSA seem to talk apart. Gra. By yonder moon, I swear, you do me wrong; In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk. Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. Por. A quarrel, ho, already? What's the matter? Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring That she did give me; whose posy was For all the world like cutler's poetry Upon a knife, Love me, and leave me not. Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value? 1 Shakspeare delights to trifle with this word. 2 This verbal complimentary form, made up only of breath, i. e. words. Knives were formerly inscribed, by means of aqua fortis, with short sen tences in distich. You swore to me, when I did give it you, 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; you Por. You were to blame-I must be plain with 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? Not that, I hope, which you received of me. Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault, I would deny it; but you see, my finger Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone. 1 Respective, that is, considerative, regardful; not respectful or respecta ble, as Steevens supposed. Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth. By Heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed Until I see the ring. Ner. Nor I in yours, Till I again see mine. Bass. Sweet Portia, If you did know to whom I gave the ring, When nought would be accepted but the ring, If you With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty I'll die for't, but some woman had the ring. Bass. No, by mine honor, madam, by my soul, No woman had it, but a civil doctor, Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me, Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady? I was beset with shame and courtesy ; My honor would not let ingratitude So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady; For, by these blessed candles of the night, Had you been there, I think, you would have begged The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house: Since he hath got the jewel that I loved, 1 To contain had nearly the same meaning with to retain. |