7. J^czcrdfi^zu^c^ j-cj^

THE

MERCHANT

i?0 F

1- 'im

V E NIC E.

By Mr. William Shakespear.

/3

LONDON;

Printed for J. T o N s o N, and the reft of the P R o p R I E T o R s i and fold by the Bookfellers of London and IVeftmittfler.

MDCCXXXlvr

Dramatis Perfon^,

^2) t/X £ Venice.

Morochius, « Moorifh Prince. 1 * f ^ . - ^ ' >Suuers to Portia.

Irince of Arragon, 3

Anthonio, the Merchant of Venice.

Baffanio, hh Friend, in love with Portia.

Salanio, ^ "

Solarino, i Friends to Anthonio and Baflanio.

Gratiario, J ^

Loren2.o, in love viVA j^ica.

Shylock, a Jew.

Tubal, a Jew, his Friend,

L^uncclot, a Clov^n^ Servant to the Jew.

Gobbo, an old Man, Father to Launcelot.

Portia, an Helrefs of great ^alUy and Fortune.

NcrifTa, Corifide^t'to*?qsti^... . , .

Jeflica, Dau^htH ttr §ljy{orJii.; . . f ,^ ; : : > T ; ; •

Senators r/* Venice, oj^cefs,' Servants' tY Torihy and : /: y^hfr* *4t^tii4ia9tf^ . ^ ......

• . •• . j . ; .

SCENE partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia upQfi the Cmtinent*

THE

Merchant Venice.

ACT I. SCENE I.

Enter Anthonio, Solarino, and Salanio.

A K T H O N I O.

;N footh I know not why I am fo fad^. Ic wearies me j you fay it wearies you'; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,

What (luff 'tis made of. whereof it is born, I am to learn

And fuch a want-wit fadncfs makes of me. That I have much ado to know my felf.

Sal, Your mind is toffingoa the ocean There where your * Argofieswith portly fail, Like figniers and rich burghers on the floc^. Or as it were the pageants of the fea. Do over^pecr the f petty traffickers That curiie to them, dothem reverence, As they fly by them with th^ir woven wings.

Sola, Believe me, Sir, had 1 fuch venture forth. The better part of my affedions would Be with my hopes |) aboard. I Hiould be ftill Plucking the grafs, to know where firs rhc wind, Prying in maps for ports, and peers, and roads j And every objeft that might make m^fcar

A ^ Mif. *Argofic, a Shtf, from Argo. -f ;r#//y. || airtaJ.

4 The Merchant ofYcmcc.

Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt Would make me fad.

Sd. My wind cooling my broth Would blow me to an ague, when I thought V/hat harm a wind too great might do at iea. I fhould not fee the fandy hour-glafs run, But I fliould think of Oiallows and of flats. And fee my wealthy Andrew dockM in fand, Vailing her high top lower than her ribs, To kifs her buria'. Should I go to church And fee the holy edifice of ftone. And not bethink me ftrait of dang'rous rocks ? Which touching but my gentle veffePs fide. Would fcatter all the fpices on the ftream. Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks, And in a word, but even now worth thi?, And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought To think on this, and fhall I lack the thought, That fuch a thing bechanc*d would make me fad ? But tell not me, I know A7ithonio k fad to think upon his merchandize.

Anth, Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, - My ventures are not in one bottom trufted. Nor to one place nor is my whole eftate Upon the fortune of this prefent year 5 Therefore my merchandize makes me not fad.

SoU. Why then you are in love,

Anth, Fie, fie.

Sola. Not in love neither I then let's fay you're fad, Becaule you are not merry ; 'twere as cafy For you to laugh and leap, and fiy you're merry, Becaufe you^arenot fad. Now by two-headed JanuSs Nature hathfram'd ftrangc fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, And laugh liks parrots at a bag-piper j And others of fuch vinegar afpe(f>, That they'll not fliow their teeth in way of fmile, Though Nejhr iWcarthe jcft be laughable.

Eriter Baffanio, Lorenzo Gratiano.

Sal. Here comes Bajfanio, your mod noble kinto^fl | Mrat'iano and Ursnzo ; fare ye well ;

Wf

The Merchant of Venice. 5

We leave ye now vvi-h better company.

Soln. I would have ftaid 'nil I had made you merry, If worthier friends had nor prevented me.

Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard : I take it your own bafinefs calls on you, And you embrace th' occifion to depart.

Sal. Good morrow, my good lords.

^^ff' Good Sigaiors bo:h, when fliall we laugh ? fay when ?

You grow exceedmg flTange \ mud it be fo ? Sal. We'll make our icil'ures to attend on yours. Sola. My lord Bajfamo, Imce you've found An^ thonio.

We two wiil leave you 5 but ar dinner-time, I pray you have in mind where we muft mew-t.

Bajf. '] vviil not fail you. \^ExeHnt Solar. arntSAi.

Gra. You look not w.Ti, S'guior AKthoyjioi You have too much refpccfl upon the world ; They loleit, that do buy ic with much care. Believe me, you are mdrvelloufly changed.

Jnth. I hold the world but as the wo.Hd, Grati^nCi A ftage where every one muft play his pare. And mine a fad one.

Gra. Let me play the fool With mirth and laughter j let old wrinkles come, And let my liver raclier heat with win?, Than my hf^art cool with monifying groans. Why fliould a man, whofe blood is warm within. Sit like his grand fire cut in Alabafler ? Sleep when he wakes, and creep inio the jaundice By being peevifh ^ I tell thee what, Anthonio, (Hove thee, and 'cis my love that fpeaks :) There are a fort of men, whofe vilages Do cream and rnantlelikca ftanding pond» And do a wii;ul ftilncfs entertain, Wirh pu! p >fe r > be dreftin an opinion Of wifdoir. gravity, profouni conceit. As who fnouM fay, lam Sir Oracle, And whtr ' upe my lip.^ let no dog bark ! ' O rny Anthonio, 1 d. know of thofe, That thcrcforconly ate reputed wife,

A J For

6 The Merchant af Venice.

For laying nothing ; who Fm very fure.

If they ihould fpcak, vyould al ni oft * damn thof:; car%

"Which hearing them, would call their brothers fools.

ril tell thee more of this another time :

But firti not with this melancholy bait,

For this fool*s gudgeon, this Opinion.

Come good torenz.0, fare ye well a while,

ril end my exhortation afcer dinner.

Lor, Well, we will leave you then^ill dinner time. I muft be one of thefc faniedumb wife menj For QratifinD never lets me fpeak.

Gra* Well, keep me company but two years more. Thou fhalt not know the found of rhine own tongue,.^

Anth. F^ireweli j 111 grow a talker for" this gear.

Cra, Thanks i'faith i for filcnce is only commendable In a neat's tongue dxy'd, and a maid not vendible.

jinth. Is that any thing now ?

Bajf, Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice : his reafons are as two gia nsof wheat hid in two bufhelsot chaff j yoa fhall Ifek all day ere you find them, and when yoa have rhem, they are not worth thcfearch.

Anth. Well i tell me now what lady is the fame To whom you fworea fecrct pilgrimage. That you to-day promised to tell me of?

Bfjf, 'Tis not unknown ro you, Anthonh. How much I have difab'ed mine eftare, By (hewing fomething a more fv^'elling port Than my taint means v/ou!d grant continuance j Nor do I now make moan to be abrigd'd From fuch a.nobierate J but my chief care Is to come fairly off from the great debts Wherein n-y time, fomething too prodigal, Hath left me gag d 5 to you, Anthonio, I owe the moft in money, and in love, And from your love 1 have a warranty

T'

* daunt, and damm. In other edhhns. If alludes Pc the faying in Sf. Matth. v. ii. Whoever ft all fay to his bro- ther, Thou fool, lhall be in danger of Hell-fire.

The Merchant of Venice. 7

unburthcn all my plors and purpofrs, How to gcc clear of all the debrs I owe.

Anth. I pray you good Bajftnio let me know it, And if it fland as you yourfeif ftill do. Within the eye of honour, be afTur'd My purfc, my perfon, my extreamcft means Lie all unlock'd to your occafions.

Bajf. In my fchool-days, when T had loft one fliaft, I fboc his fellow of the felf-fame flight The ftlf-fime way, wirh more advifed warch, To find the other forth i by ventVing both, I ofc found both. I urge this child-hood proof, Becaufe what follows is pare innocence. I owe you much, and like a wilful yourh. That which I owe is lod j but if you plcafs To ihoot another arrow that felf way Which you did fhoot the fir ft, I do not doubt, A; I will Wdtch the aim, or to find borh, Or bring your latter hazard back again, And thankfully reft debtor for the firft.

Anth, You know me well, and herein /pend but time

To wind about my love with circumftance: And out of doubt you do me now more wrong, in making queftion of my uttermoft, Than if you had made wafte of all I have. Then do but fay to me, what I fliould do. That in your knowledge may by me be done, And I am preft unto it : therefore fpcak,

Bajf, In Belmont is a lady richly left, And fhe is fair, and fairer than that word. Of wond'rous virtues j fomcrimes from her eye* I did receive fair fpeechlcfs meflages ; Her name is Portia, nothing undervalu'd f To Cato's daughter, Brutus* Fort la : Nor is the wide world ign'rant of her worth ; For the four winds blow in from every coaft Renowned fuitorsj and her funny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece, Which makes her feat of Belmont, Cbolchoi* flronJ, And many Jafons come in queft of her.

A 4s O

S 27?^ Merchant of Venice.

0 my AnthoniOi had I but the means To hold a rival-plaee with oneof them,

1 have a mind prefages mcfuch f thrift. That I fliould qaeftionleis be fortunate.

Anth. Thoukrjow'ft that all my fortunes are at fea^^ Kor hjvcl mony, nor commodity To raife a prefent fum i therefore go forth, Try v^hat my credit can mVenice do ^ That n^ali berack'd even to the uttermoft, Tofurnini thee to Belmont to fair Portia : Go prekntly enquire, and fo will I, Where mony is, and I noqueflion make Tofaaveofitmy truft, or for my fake. lExeunt*

SCENE II. Belmont.

Three Caskets are fet cuty one of gold, another offilver, and another of lead,

EfJter Portia and Nerifla.

Tcr, By my troth, Nerrjfa, my litcle body is weary ©f '.his g;tai: v/orld.

Ntr. You would be, fv^''eet madam, if your mifc- ries were in the fame abundance as your good tor- tunes are 5 and yet, for aught I fee, they areas fick that furfeit wich too much, as they that ftarve with Jnotliing ; therefore it is no fmall happincfs to be fcat- cd in the mean 5 fuperfluity comes fooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.

Per. Good fcntences, and well pronounc'd.

Nor. They would be better if well followed.

Por. If to do, were as eafie as to know what were good to do, chappels had been churches, and poor mens cottages Princes palaces. He is a good divine that follows his own inftrudlionsj I can ealier teach twenty what were good to be done, than to be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching. The brain may devife laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree j fuch a hare is madnefsthe youth, to skip o'er the mcfhes of good counfel the cripple. But this * reafoning is not ia falhion to chufe me a

hus-

f thrift ,f(Or thriving. ^ reafen.

The Merchant of Venice. 9

husband : O me, the word chufe ! I may never chufe whom I would, nor rcfufe whom 1 diflike, fo is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father: i$ it not hard, Nerijfa, that I cannot chufe one, nor refufenone?

Ner. Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men at their death have good infptratiotis ; therefore the lottery that he hath devifed in thefe three chefts of gold, filver, and lead fwhereof who chufes his mean- ing chufes you) will no doubt never be chofen by any lightly, but one whom you (hall rightly love. But what Warmth is there fn your afFedlion towards any of thcfc princely fuiters that are already come ?

Tor. I pray thee over-name them, and as thounam'ft them I will dcfcribe them, and according to my de- fcription level at my affedion.

Ner. Firft there is the Neapolh/in Prince. Tor. Ay, that's a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of Ms horfe, and he makes it a great appro- priation to his own good parts that he can fl^oo Mm himfelf i 1 am much afraid my lady his mother play'd falfe with a fmith.

Ner, Then there is the Count Palatine, Tor, He doth no hing but frown, as who fliould (ay, if you will not have mc, chufe : he hears merry talcs, and fmiles notj I fear he will prove the weeping phi- lofopher when he grows old, being fo full ot un- mannerly fjdnefs in his youth. I had rather be mar- ried to a death's head with a bor.e in his mouthy than to either of thefe. God defend me from thtfc two.

Ner, How fay you by the Trench Lord, Monficur Le Bo; n I

Tor. God made him, and therefore let him pafs for a man \ in truth I know it is a fin to be a mocker; but he ! why he harh a horfe better than the Neafoli^ tan's,, a better bad habit of frowning than the Count TaUtine, he is every man in no man; if a ifithroHle fing, he Falls firair a cspiring : he will fence with l.is pwn fliadow i if I (hould marry him, 1 fliouM marry A s twenty

10 The Merchnnt of Venice.

twenty husbands. If he would dcfpife me, I would fqrgivc him, for if he love nie to madnefs, I fhould never requite him.

2ver. What fay you then to FaulconirU^e, the young Baron of England f

For. You know I fay nothing to him, for he un- derllands not me, nor I him j he hath neither Latm, French^ nor Ital':an, and you may come into the court and fwcar, that i have a poor pennyworth in the Ew^- lijh. He IS a proper man's pidlure, but alas I who can converfe with a dumb (how? hovV oddly he is fuired! I chink he bought his doublet in Italy^ his round hofc in France, his bonnet in Germany^ and his behaviour every where.

Ner, What think you of the * Scotttflo lord his neigh- bour I

Tor, That he hath a neighbourly charily in him, for he borrow'd a box of the ear of the EngUJlj-?nar?y aid fwore he would pay him again when he was able. I think the French man became his furety, and feakd under for another,

Ner. How like you the young German^ the Duke of Saxony's nephew ?

For, Very vilely in the mo'ning when he is fober, and mod vilely in the afternoon when he is drunk ; when he is heft, he is a li'tle worfe than a man, and whea he is word, he is little better than a teaftj and the worft fall that ever fell, I hope I fliail make (hifc to go without him.

Ker, If he fliould offer to chufe, and chufe the right casket, you (hou'd refufe to perfc rm your fither's will, if ycu fliould refufe to accept him.

Per. Thercfoie for ftar of the worft, I pray th e fet a deep glafs of Rheni/h wine cn the contrary c^^f- ket- for if the devil be within, and that temptation v/i hout, 1 know he will chufe it. I will do any thing, Kerijfa, e*er I will be marry'd to a fpunge.

jVer. You need not fear, lady, the h ;ving any of thefe lords: they hive acquainted me with their deter-- minations, which is indeed to return to their home, and to trouble you with no more fuit, unlefs you may • ether, be

The Merchant of Venice. 1 1

be won by fome other fort than your father's impo- Ticion, depending on the caskets.

Tor, If I live to be as old as Sibillc^^ I will die as chafte as Bimni\ unlcfs I be obtained by the manner of ury father's will ; I am glad this parcel of wooers are fo reafonable^ for there is not one among them but I doat on his very abfencc, and wilh them a fair departure.

Nipr. Do you not renrcmber, lady, in your farher's time, a Ventttm^ a fcholar and a fbbier, that came hither in company of the Marquifs of Mountfermt i

For, Yes, yes, it was Bajfanhj as I think, he was fo callM.

Ner, True, madam ; he of all the men that ercr my foolifh eyes look'd upon, was the bell dcferving^^ a fair lady.

For. I remember him well, and I remember him: worthy of thy praif^. How now ? what news I Enter a Servant,

Ser. The four ftrangers feek for you, madam, ro take their leave; and there is a fore-runner come fronv a fifrh, the Prince of Morocco, who brings word the Prince his mafter will be here to-night.

For, If I could bid the fifth welcome with fb good heart as I can bid the other four farewel, I (houM be ^lad of his approach ; if he have the condition of a fainr, and the complexion of a devil, I had rather ha (liould fhrive me than wive me. Come Nerijf*. Sir- rah go before 5 while we fhut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door. [fAr^n^x,

SCENE III. Venice. Enter Baflanio and Shylock.

shy. Three thoufand ducats? well.

Bajf. Ay, Sir, for three months.

Shy. For three months? well.

Bajf, For the which, as I told you, Anthonlo fhall \t bound.

Shy, Anthonio ftiall become bound? well,

Bajf. M'. y you ftead me ? will you pleafUiTC m« ? fhi 1 I km W your aufwcr ?

12 The Merchant of Ntnict.

shy. Three thoufand ducats for three months, and jinthonio bound ?

Bujf. Your anfwer to that.

Shy. Anthonio is a good man.

B^Jf* Have you heard any imputation to the con- trary ?

Shy. No, no, no, no 5 my meaning in faying he is a good man, is to have you underftand me, that he is fufficient ; yet his means are in fuppofition : he hath an Argofis bound to TnpoUsy another to the J»- ^ies I underftand moreover upon the Ryalto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and other ventures he hath fquander'd abroad. But fhips are but boards, failors but men ; there be land-rats, and water-rats, water-thieves and land-thieves, I mean py- rates 5 and then there is the peril of waters, winds and rocks. The man is notwithftanding fufficient 5 three thoufand ducats ? I think I may take his bond.

Biijf, Be alTur'd you may.

Shy. I will be aflar'd I may ; and that I may be* affur^d, I will bethink me j may I fpeak with AnthQ- nio f

EaJ. If it pleafe you todine with us. Shy, Yes, to fmcU pork, to eat of the habitation >which your prophet the Naz^arite conjur'd the devil into ? I will buy with you, fell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and fo following ; but I will not •at with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. V/hat news on the Ryalto 5 who is he comes here ? Ent^r Anthonio, JBaJf. This is Signior Anthonio.

Shy. [Ajide,'] How like a fawning TubUcm he looks! I hate him, for he is a chriilian : But more, for that in low fimplicity He lends out mony gratis, and brings down The rate of ulance here with us in Venice. If I can catch him once upon the hip, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. He hates our facred nation, and he rails Ev'n there whbre merchants moft do congregate. On me, my bargains; and my well- won thrift,

Whidi

The Merchant of Venice. i j

Which he calls intereft. Curfed be my tribe If I forgive him.

Bajf, Shylock, do you hear? Shy. I am debating of my prefent (lore, And by the near guefs of my memory, I cannot inftantly raife up the grofs Of full three thoufand ducats: what of that? Tuball, a wealthy Hebrew of my trib?. Will furnifb me 5 but foft, how many months Do you dciire? Reft you fair, good Signior, [To Anth. Your worfhip was the laft man in our mouths.

Anth. Shylock, although I neither lend nor borrow By taking, nor by giving of excefs, Yet to fupply the ripe wants of my friend

ril break a cuftom. —Is he yet poflcft

How much he would?

shy. Ay, ay, three thoufand ducats. Jnth. And for three Months. Shy, I had forgot, three months, you told me fo;* •Well then your bond : and let me fee, but hear you, Methought you faid, you neither lend nor borrow Upon advantage. ^ Jnth, I do never ufe it.

Shy. When faccb grazM his uncle Lab tin's flieep, This Jacob from ©ur holy Abraham was (As his wife mother wrought in his behalf) The third pofTelTor ; ay, he was the third.

jinth. And what of him? did he take inrereft? Shy. No, not take int'reft, not as you would fay Directly int'reftj mark what Jacob did. When Laban and himfclf were compromised That all the * yeanlings which were ftreak'd and pled Should fall as jacobus Hire 5 the Ewes being rank, In th' end of autumn turned to the ramsj And when the work of generation was Between thefe woolly breeders in the afl, The skilful fliepherd f pecl'd me certain wands : And in the doing of the deed of kind. He (luck rhcm up before the fulfome ewesj Who then conceiving, did in ycaning-timc

Fall

14- The Merchant of V^mcc.

Fall party-colour'd lambs, and thofe were Jac9b*s. This was a way to thrive, and he was bleit \ And thrift is bleffing, if men ftcal it not,

Anth, This was a venture, Sir, xh^X Jacob ferv'd for } A thing not in his pow'r to bring to pafs, Bu^ fway*d and fafhion'd by the hand of heav'n* Wis this inferted to make int*reft good? Or is your gold and filver ewes and rams ?

shy. I cannot tellj 1 make it breed as faftj But note me, Signror.

Anth. Mark you this. Bajfanio^ The devil can cite fcripture for his purpofe. An evil foul, producing holy witncfs, Is like a villain with a fmilir.e. ch^:^k; A goodly apple rotten at rh,^ ' eait. O what a goodly outlide fslf^ood hathf

shy. Three thoufand r uicats: 's : good round fura. Three months from twelve, trtn r me fee ^hc rare, ^nth. Well, Shylack, fliah we b' oeholdcn to you ? shy. Signior Anthonio, many h 'R^e and oft In the By alto you have rated me, About my monies and m> ufances. % S iil have I borne it with a parienr fhrug, For fufferance is the badge of all our trfbs. You call me miobeliever, cut-rhroar dog, And fpit upon my Jewifh gaberdine. And ail for ufe of that which is mv own. Weir then, it now appears you need my help: Go rr^ then, you rome to me, and you fay, Shylock, we would have monies j you f y fo, ' You thar did void your rheum upon my beard. And toot me, as you fpurn a ftranger cur Over your thrcfhold : money is your fu t, What (liouM I fay to you ? fhould I not fay. Hath a dog money ? is it poffible A cur can lend three thoufand ducats ? or Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key. With bated brea'h, and whifpVing humblcnef>, Say this: fair Sir, you fpit on me lafl Wednefday^ You fpurn'd me fuch a day 5 another time Ycu caird me dog j and for thefc curtcfics

V\\

The Merfhant of Venice. i j

ra lend you thus much monies.

Anth. I am as like to call thee fo again, To fpit OH thee again, to fpurn thee too. If thou wilt lend this money, lend ic not As to thy friend, (for when did friendfliip take A * breed of barren metal of his friend ?) But lend it rathe^r to thine enemy. Who if he break, thou may'ft with better face Exa£V the penalty.

shy. Why how you ftorm ? I would be friends with you, and have your love. Forget the lliames that you have ftain'd me wrth. Supply your prcfenr wants, and take no doit Of ufance f^^r my monies, and you'll not hear mti This is kind I offer.

Anth. This were kindnefs.

shy. This kindnefs will I fhowj^ Go with me to a No'-ary, fcal me there Your fingle bond, and in a merry (port If you repay me not on fuch a day. In fuch a place, fuch fum or ibms as are ExpreiVd in the condition, let the forfeit Be nominated for an equal pound Of your fair flcfh, to be cut off and taken In what part of your body it (hail pleafe me.

Anth. Content, in faith, V\\ feal to fuch a bond". And fay there is much kindnefi in th^Jew.

Bajf. You (hall not feal to fuch a bond for me, I'll rather dwell in my necelTity.

Anth, Why fear not man, I will not forfeit if} Witbm thefe two months (that's a month before This bond expiresj I do cxpe^ return Of thrice three times the value of this bond.

Shy. O father Abrahamy what thefe chriflians aref Whofe own ha^d dealings teach them to fufpift The thoughts of others! pray you teil me thi.?. If he fhould break his day, what fl;ould 1 gain By the ex-^ft-on of the forreirurc? A pound of man*s flcfh taken from a man, Ij

* breed of metal, meaning money at ufury. money that breeds more — The old editions (tW6 of 'em) have if, A bribe of batten metal—

1 6 The Merchant of Venice.

Is not fo eftimable or profitable.

As flefli of muttons, beefs, or goats. I fay,

To buy his favour, I extend this friendfhip:

If he will take it, fo j if not, adieu j

And for my love, I pray you wrong me not.

uinth. Yes, Shylock, I will feal unto this bond.

Shy, Then meet me forthwith at the Notary^ Give him direction for this merry bond, And 1 will go and purfe the ducats ftrair. Sec to my houfe, left in the fearful guard Gf an unthrifty knave, and prcfently Til be wi^h you. ^^xit.

Anth. Hie thee, gentle J-erfi, The Hebrew will turn chriftian, he grows kind.

Bajf, I like nor fair terms, and a villain*s mind.

Anth. Ccmc on, in this there can be no difmay. My fhips come home a month before the d^y, [Exeunt.

A C T II. S C E N E L Belmont.

Enter Morochius a Tarony-Moor all in rohite, and three or four Followers accordingly, with Portia, N';rifFa, and her train, Flo. Cornets,

Morochius.

MIflike me not for my completion, The fliadow'd iivery of the burnift/d fun, Te whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. Bring me the fairefl creature northward born, ^Vhere Phoebus'' fire fcaice thaws the ificks. And let us make incifion for your love, To prove whofe blood is reddeft, his or mine, I teil thee, lady, this afpedi of mine Hath fear'd the valiant j by my love I fwcar. The be[l regarded virgins of our clime Have lov*d it too: I wou'd not change this hue, Excej)t to fteal ycur thoughts, my gentle Queen,

% Tor.

The Merchant ^/Venice. 17

for. In terms of choice I am not (blely led^ By nice diredtion of a maiden's eyes : Befides, the lottery of my deftiny Ba^s me the right of voluntary chufing. But if my father had nor fcanred me, And hedg'd me by his wit to yield my fclf His wife, who wins mc by that means I told you; Your felf, Fenowned Prince, then flood as fair As any comer I have look*d on yet. For my Affedion.

Mor, Ev'n for that I thank you 5 Therefore I pray you lead me to the caskets To try my fortune. By this fcimitar. That flew the Sophy and a Terfian Prince, That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, I wouMout-ftarc the fterncft Eyes that look. Out-brave the heart moft daring on the earth, Pluck the young fucking cubs ttom thcfhe-bcarj Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, To win thee, lacjy. But, alas the while!

Hercules and LyrA^j play at dice ■"Wh'ch is the better man, the greater throvv i 'May turn by fortune from the weaker hand: So is Alddes beaten by his f pag|e. And fo may I, blind fortune leading mc, • Mifs that which one unworthier may attain, And die with grieving.

Tor, You muft take your chance, And either not attempt tochule at all. Or fwcrar before you chufe, if you chufe wrong. Never to fpeak to lady afterward In way of marriage j therefore be advis'd.

Mor. Nor will not -y therefore bring me to my chance.

Tor, Firll forward to the temple, after dinner. Your hazard fhallbemade.

Mor. Good fortune then ! [Cornets. To make me bleft or curfed'd among men. [Exeunt, SCENE II. Venice. ^ Enter Launcelot /^lone.

Lam. Certainly my confcience will Icrve me to Tin from this\7c» my maftcr. The fiend is at 'j- r/ijff. mine

I S The Merchant of Venice.

mine elbow, and tempts me, faying to me, Gob- Lamcelot Gobbo, good Launceht, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, uft your legs, take the ftarr, run away. My confcicnce fays no i rake heed honeft Lamcalot, take heed honefl Gobbo^ or as aforefaid, honeft Launcelot Gobbo, do not run, fcorn running with thy heels. Well, the moft couragious fiend bids be pack, 'via fays the fiend, away fays the fiend, for the heav'ns roufe up a brave mind, fays the fiend, and run. Well, my confcience hanging about the neck of my hearr, fays very wifely to me, my ho- neft friend Launcehty being an honeil man's fon, or

rai'her an honeft woman*s fon for indeed my

father did fomething fmack, fomcthing grow to j he

had a kind of tafte, ^ Well, my confcience fays,

budge not ; budge, fays the fiend j budge not, lays my confcience j confcience, fay I, you counfel well i fiend, fay I, you counfcl ill. To be rul'd by my confcience I fliould fl-ay with the Jevp my mafter,. who, Gcd blcfs the mark, is a kind of devil; and to nin away from the Jev^, I (houid be ruled by the fiend, who, faving your reverence, is the devil him- felf. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarnal ; and in my confcience, my confcience is but a kind of hard confcience, to offer to counfel me to fky with the Jero. The fiend gives me more friendly counfel; 1 will run, fiend, my heels are at your com- mandment, I will run.

Enter old Gobbo mth a basket.

Cob. Mafter young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to mafter ^ew's ?

Laun. O heav'os, this is my true begotten father,^ who being more than fand-blind, high gravel-blind^ knows me not j I will try eonfufions with him.

Gob, Mafter young gentleman, I pray you which is the way to mafter J^ew's ?

Laun. Turn up, ot your right-hand at the next turning, but at the next turning of all on your left j marry at the very next turning turn of no hand, but turn down indireftly to the Jew'^s houfe.

G^b. By God's foncie^, 'twill be a hard way to hit i

caa

Ihe Merchant of Venice. 1 9

can you tell me whether one Launctlot that dwells with him, dwell with him or no?

Lum, Talk you of young mafter Launcelot? (mark me now, now will I raife the waters j) talk you of young cn after Launcelot ?

Gob. No mafter, Sir, but a poor man's fon. His father, though I fay't, is an honeft exceeding poor man, and GoJ be thanked welKto live.

Lnun. Well, let his father be what he will, wc talk of young mafter Launcelot ?

Gob, Your worftiip's friend and Launcelot y Sir.

Laun, But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo I belcech you* talk you of young mafter Launcelot ?

Gob,' Of Lamceloty an't pleafeyour mafterftiip.

Lati\}. Ergo mafter Launcelot, talk not of mafter Launcelot father, for the young gentleman (according to fares and deftinies, and fuch odd fayings, the fifters three, and fuch branches of learning,^ is indeed de- ceafed, or as you would fay in plain terms, gone to heav'n.

Gob. Marry God forbid, the boy was the very ftaif of my age, my very prop.

Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovcl-poft, ftafF or a prop ? do you know me, father ?

Gob, Alack the day, I know you nor, young gen- tleman ; bur I pray you tell me, is my boy, God reft; his foul, alive or dead ?

Laun. Do you not know me, father ?

Gob. Alack Sir, lam fand-blind, I know you nor.

Laun. Nay, indeed if you had your eyes you might fail of the knowing me : it is a wife father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your fon, give me your bleifing, truth will come to light, murder cannot be hid long, a man's iba may ; but in the end t^uch will our.

Gob. Pray you Sir ftand up, I am fare you are noc Launcelot my hoy.

Laun, Pray you let's have no more fading about ir, but give me your blefllng -y I am Launcelot^ your boy that was, your fon that is, your child that (hall be.

G^b, I cannot think you arc my Ion.

Laun^

20 The Merchant of Venice.

Laun. I know nor what I (hall think of that: but I am Lfiuncelot the Je-^^ man, and I am fare Al^r- gery yo^av wife is ray mother.

Goo. Her name is hlargery indeed. Til be fwora if thcu be Lnuvcelot, thou art mine own ficfh and blood: iCrd worfnip'd might he be ! what a beard haft thou got! thou haft got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my Fi'ii-hcrfe has on his tail.

Laun. It fhould ffcm then that Bobbin's tail grow4 backward, 1 am fure he had mere hair on his tail than I have on my face when I laftfawhim.

Gob. Lord how art thou changed ! how doft thou and thy msfter agree? I have brought him a prcfcnt j how agree you now ?

Laun. Well, well; but for mine own paft, as I have fet up my reft to run away, fo I will not reft 'till 1 have run fbme ground. My mafter's a very : give him a prefent! give hini a halter: lam famifh'd in his lervice. You may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father I am g^ad you are come, give me your prefent to one m after Bajfanio, who in- deed gives rare new liveries j if I fcrve him not, I will run as far as God has any ground. O rare for- tune, here comes the man j to him father, for I am a Jew if 1 f.rve the Jev> any longer.

Enter Bairaniow/V^ a follower or two,

Bajf, You may do foj bur let it be fo hafted, that fupper be ready at the farthcft by five of the clock: fee thefe letters deliver'd, put the liveries to mak'ng* and defirc Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.

Laun To him, father.

Gob. God blefs your worfti'p.

^ajf. Gramercy, wouldTt thou aupht with me

Cob. Here's my fon, Sir, a poor boy.

Laun. Not a poor boy, Sir^ bet the rich J^^w's man, that would, Sir, as my father fhall fpccifie.

Gob. He hath a great infedlion, Sir, as one would fay, to ferve.

Laun. Indeed the (hort and the long is, I ferve the Jew, and have a defirc as my father ihall fpecifie.

Coi.

The Merchant of Venice. 21

Cob, His mafter and he, faving your wor(hip*s re- verence, are fcarce catercouiins.

Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Je-m having done me wrong, doth caulc me, a« my fatner, being I hope an old man, fhail frutifie unto you.

Gob. I have here a difh of doves that I would be- ftow upon your worfhip, and my fuit is

LAun, In very brief, the fuit is impertinent to my felf, as your worfhip (hall know by this honeft old man 5 and though I iay it> though old man, yet poor man my farher.

Bajf, Onefpeak fer both, what would you ?

J^ann, Serve you, Sir.

Gob. This is the very defedof the matter. Sir.

'Bajf. I know thee v/elj, thou haft obtained thy fuit ? Shjlock, thy mafter, fpoke with me this day, -And hath prefer'd thee, if it be preferment To leave a rich Jeroi's lervice to become The follower of fo poor a gentleman.

Laun. The old proverb is very well parted betweeoi my mafter Shylock and you, Sir 5 you have the grace of God, Sir, and he hath enough.

BaJf. Thou fpeak'ft it well j go father with thy fon. Take leave of thy old mafter, and enquire My lodging out ; give him a livery. More guarded than his fellows; lee it done.

Laun. Father in, I cannot get a fervice, no ? I have ne*cr a tongue in my head ? well, if any man in Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to iwear upon a book^ I fhall have good fortune ; gc to, here's 9 fimple line or life, here's a fmall trifle of wfves, alas, fifteen wives is nothing, eleven widows and nine maids is a (imple coming in for one man! and then to fcapc drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed, here are fimple Tcapes! well, if fortune be a woman, fhe's a good wench for this geer. Father come, Tli take my leave of the J^^jp inthctwink- ling of an eye.

[Ex. Laun. and Gob. BaJf. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this i Thcfc things being bought and orderly bcftowcd,

Re-

22 The Merchant of Venice.

Return in hade, for I do feaft to-night

My beft cftecm'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.

L^on* My beft endeavours fhall be done herein. SCENE III. lEnttT Gratiano.

<?rii. Where is your maftcr ?

Lton. Yonder, Sir, he WJilks.

Gm. Signior Baffctnio,

Bajf, Gratiano.

Gra, I have a fuit to you.

Bajf. You have obtained it.

Gra. You muft not deny me, I muft go with you to Belmont.

Bajf. Why then you muft : but hear thee, Gratiano, Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice. Parts that become thee happily enough, And in fuch eyes as ours apprar not faults j But where thou art not known, why there they fliew Something too liberal pray thee take pain T* allay with fomc cold drops of modcfty Thy skipping fpirit, left through thy wild behaviour 1 be mifconftru'd in the place I go to, And lofc my hopes.

Gra. Signior Bajfanio, hear me. If I do not put on a fober habit, Talk with refpeft, and fwear but now and then. Wear prayer-books in my pockets, look demurely. Nay more, while grace is faying, hood mine eyes Thus with my hat, and figh and fay Amen i Ufe all th' obfervance of civility, Like one well ftudied in a fad oftent To pleafe his grandam j never truft me more.

Bajf, Well, we (hall fee your bearing.

Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night, you lhall not gage mc By what we do to- night.

BaJf. No, that were pity. 1 would entreat you rather to put on Your boldcft fuit of mirth, for we have friends That purpofe merriment : but fare you well, I have feme bufinefs.

Gru. And I muft to Lorenao and the reft : But wc will vifit you at fupper-cimc. [Exe«»/.

The Merchant of Ycnicc. 23

SCENE IV. Erstir Jeflica and Launcelot.

yef. I'm forry thou wilt leave my father foj Our houfe is he.l, and thou a merry devil Didft rob it of fome tafte of tedioufnefs j But fare thee well, there is a ducac for thee. And LaunceUty foon at fuppcr ftialt thou fee Lorenzo, who is thy new mafter's gucilj Give him this letter, do it fecretly, And fo farewel: I would not have my father See me talk with thee.

Laun. Adieu j tears exhibit my tongue, moft beau- tiful Pagan, moil {wcqz few ! if a Chriftian did not pl«y the knave and get thee, I am much deceiv'dj but adieu, thefe foollHi drops do fomewhat drown my manly fpirit : adieu. [Exif,

Jef. Farewel, good Launcelot. Alack, what heinous fin is it in me. To be afliam'd to be my father's child ? But though I am a daughter to his blood, I am not to his manners : O Lorenzo, If thou keep promife, I ftiall end t.his ftrife. Become a chriftian, and thy loving wife. {^Exit,

SCENE V. Inter Gratiauo, Lorenzo, Solarino, anJ Salanio.

Lor, Nay, we will (link away in fupper-time, dif- guife us at my lodging, and return all in an hour.

Gra, We have not made good preparation.

Sal. We have not fpoke as yet of torch-bearers.

Sola, 'Tis vile, unlefs it may be quaintly ordered. And better in my mind not undertook.

Lor, 'Tis now but four o'-clock, we have two hours To furnifh us Friend Launcelot, what's the news? Enter Launcelot with a letter.

Laun. And it fliall plcafe you to break up this, it Ihall (eem to fignify.

Lor. I know the hand, in faith 'tis a fair hand. And whiter than the paper it writ on

Is

24 The Merchant of Venice;

Is the fair hand that writ. Gr/i. Love-news, in faith. Laun. By your leave. Sir. 'Lor, Whither goeft thou ?

Ldnn, Marry, Sir, to bid my old maftef the t© fup to-night with my new mafter the chriftian.

Lor. Hold here, take this, tell gentle JcJJicet 1 will not fail her, fpeak it privately. Go Gentlemen, will you prepare for this mask to-night ? I am provided of a torch-bearer. \^ExU Laua.

Sul, Ay marry, Til be gone about it ftrait.

Soli^, And fo will I.

Lor. Meet me and Gratiana At Gratiano's lodging fome hour hence.

Sal. 'Tisgood we do fo. [Exit

Gra. Was not that letter from fair Je/Jtca ?

Lor. I muft needs tell thee all, (he hath diredled How I fliall take her from her father's houfe. What gold and jewels (lie is furnifhM with. What page's fait fhe hath in readinefs. If e'er the Jew her father come to heav'n, It will be for this gentle daughter's fake : And never dare misfortune crofs her foot, Unlefs fhe doit under this excufe. That (he is ifTue to a faithlefs yew. Come, go with me, perufe this as thou goeft, Fair JeJ/ica fhall be my torch-bearer. [Exemt.

SCENE VI. Enter Shylock and Launcelot. Si&y. Well, thou fhalt fee, thy eyes fhallbe thy judge, The difference of old Shylock 2Lnd Bajfamo. What Jejficfil thou (halt not gormandize

As thou haft done, with me what JejpxaT

And deep and fnore, and rend apparel out. Why Jfjfica, I fay. Latm. SN hy JeJJica !

Shy. Who bids thee call ? I did not bid thee call. Laun. Your worfhip was wont to tell me I could do nothing without bidding.

tnUf

*

The Merchant of Venice- 2 5

Enter Jeflica.

Jef. Call you ? what is your will ?

Shy, I am bid forth to fupper, Jejpcd, There are my keys : but wlverefore Ihould I go ? I am not bid for love j they flatter me : But yet ril go in hate, to feed upon The prodigal chriftian. Jeffic^^y my girh, Look to my houfe, I am right loth to go, There is fome ill a brewing towards my reft. For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

LaunA bcfeech you, Sir, go, my young mafter doth cxpedt your reproach.

shy. So do 1 his.

"taun. And they have confpired together, I will not fay you fliall fee a mask ; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nofe fell a bleeding on black Monday laft, at fix a-clock i'ch' morning, fall ng out that year on Alh-Wednefday was four year in the after- noon.

Shy. What are thcfe masks ? hear you me, ^ej/ica, Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum, And the vile fqucaking of the wry-neck'd fife, Clamber not you up to the cafements then. Nor thf aft your head into the publick ftreet To gaze on chriftian fools with Varnifh'd faces: But ftop my houfe*s cars, I mean my Cafemenrs, Let not the found of (hallow foppery enrcr My fober houfc. By Jacobs ftaff I fwear, I have no mind of feafting forth to-night j But I will go; go you before me, firrah: Say 1 will come.

Lnun, I will go before, Sir. Miftrefs, look oilt at a window for all this, There will come a chriftian by.

Will be worth a Jexotfs eye. [Exit Laun.

Shy, What fays that fool of //^^/«r's off fpring ? ha.

J^f. His words were, farewel miftrefs, nothing elfe.

shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder: Snail-flow in profit, but he fleeps by day More than the wild cat; drones hive not with me Therefore I part with him, and part with him

B To

z6 The Merchant i?/* Venice.

To one that I would have him help to wafte His borrowed purfe. Well, JeJJica, go in. Perhaps 1 will return immediately ^ Shut the doors after you, faft bind, faftfind, A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind. [^Exit, Jef. Farewcli and if my fortune be not croft, j I have a father, you a daughter' loft. [ExitJ

SCENE VII. Enter 6ratiano and Salanio in mafqueradg.

Gra, This is the pent-houfe under which Lorenzo •dcfired us to make a ftand.

Sal. His hour is almoft paft.

Gra, And it is marvel hcout-dwclls his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

Sal. O ten times faftcr renns* f 'ldgGons fly To * feal love's bonds new made, than they are wont To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra, That ever holds. Whorifeth from a feaft With that keen appetite that he fits down ? : Where is the horfe that doth untrcad again His tedious meafurcs withth* unbated fire That he did pace them firft ? all things that are; Are with more fpirit chafed than enjoy'd. How like ayounker or a prodigal The skarfcd bark purs from her native bay, Hugg*d and embraced by rhe ftrurapet wind ? Howlikethe prodigalduth fhe return With if: over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails, Lean, rent, and beggar'dby the ftrumpct wind ? Enter Lorenzo.

Sal. Here comes Lorenx^o : more of this hereafter.

Lor, Sweet friends, your patience for my long abodri Not I, but my affairs have made }*ouwait; When you (hall plea fe to play the thievesfor wives, ril watch as long for you then; come approach ; Here dwells my father few, Hoa, who's within? Jeffica above in hoy'i cloaths,

Jef. Who are you ? teil me for more certainty. Albeit rilfwearthat 1 do know your tongue.

♦ fleaL if- over'^miher'd.

' {

The Merchant of Venice. 27

Lor. LorenzOj and thy love.

Jef. Lorenzo ctniin, and my love indeed, For who love J fo much ? and now who knows But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours ?

Lor, Heav'n and thy thoughts are witncfs that thou art,

yef. Here, catch his casket, it is worth the pains^ Vm glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, For I anPi much afham'd of my exchange $ But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee The pretty follies that themfelves commit i For if they could, Cupid himfelf would blufh To fee me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Defcend, for you muft be my torch-bearer.

ye/. What, muft I hold a candle to my fhames? They in themfelves good-footh are too too light. Why, *tisan office of difcovery, love, And I Ihould be obfcur'd.

Lor. So are you fweet, Ev'n in the lovely garnifhof a boy. But come at once ■

For the clofc night doth play the run-away. And we are ftaid for at Bajfanh's feaft.

^ejf. 1 will makefaftthe doors, and gild my felf With fomc more ducats, and be with you ftrait

Cra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.

Lor. Belhrew me but I love her heartily, for (heis wife, if I can judge of her^ And fair (he is, if that mine -eyes be true ; And true (he is, as fhe hath prov'd her fclf ; And therefore like her felf, wife, fair, and true. Shall (he be placed in my conftant foul.

Re-enter JcfTica. What, art thou come? on gentlemen, awayj Our masking mates by this time for us ftay. [Exit. Enter Amhonio.

Anth. Who's there ?

Cra, Signior AnthomOy

Anth. Fie, Cratiano, where are all the reft 'Tisnine a- clock, our friends all ftay for you. No mask to-night, the wind is come about, Bsjptnio prefcntly will go aboard,

b z 1

2 8 The Merchant of Venice.

1 have fent twenty out to feek for you.

Gm, Tra glad on'r, I deiiretio more delight. Than to be under fail, and gone to-nighc. \ExtHm.

SCENE Vill. Belmont. Enter Portia -aith Morocchius 9i,nd bcth thtir Trains.

For, Go, draw afide the curtains, and difcover The fevVal caskets to this noble Prince. Kow make your choice. [Three taskets Mre Jifctn^er^J,

Mor. The firft of gold, which this infcriprion bears., U^jo chufeth me^ Jlyall gain what many men Jejire, The lecond filver, which this promife carries, Mlio chufeth mt, Jfmll get as much as he deferves. This third, dull lead, with warning all 3s blutit, Who chufeth me, rhufi give avd hazard all he hath. How iLall 1 know if 1 do chufe the right?

For, The one of them contains my pidla re, Prince, If you chufe that, then 1 am yours wit hall.

Mor. Some God diredl my^ judgment : lej me &e, I will furvey the infcriptions back again ^ What fays this leaden casket?

Who chufeth me, mufi give tfnd hazard all he hath.

M\i?L give, for what? for lead? hazard for lead.

This casket threatens. Men that hazard ail,

Do i! in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind (loops not to fhows of drof?,

VA then not give nor hazard ought for lead?

"What fivs the filver wi^h her virgin hue?

Who chufeth me, flmll get as much as he defh'v^s.

As much as he deiervss ? paufe there, Morocchius y

And weigh thy value v>^ith an even hand.

If thou bVft rated by thy ellimation

Thou doft deferve enough, and yer enough

May not extend fo far as to the lady^

And yet to be arraid of my dcferving^

Were but a weak difabling of my fell.

As much as 1 deferve? why that's the lady ;

1 do in birth deferve her, and in fortunes, In graces, and in qualities of breeding: But more than thele, in love I do deferve. What if 1 firay'd no farther, but chofe here?

Let's

The Merchant of^tmcz. zgi

Let's fee once more this faying grav'd in gold,

ifl^o chujeth me, JJjall gain rchcit mciny men dejtre.

Why that's the iady, all the world delires her :

From rhe four corners of the earth they come

To kifs this fhrine, this mortal breathing faint.

Th' Hircfinim deUrts and the vaftie wilds

Of wide j^mbiii are as thorough-fares now.

For Princes to come view fair Portia.

The watVy kingdom, whofe ambitious head

Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar

To ftop the foreign fpirirs, but they come

As o'er a brook, to fee fair Portia.

One of thefe three contains her heav'niy picfiurc.

Is*t like that lead contains her ? 'twere damnation

To think fo bafe a thought : it were too grofs

To rib her fearcloth in the obfcure grave.

Or fhall I think in filver (he's immur'd,

Being ten times undervalued to try'd gold ?

O finful thought, never fo rich a gem

Was fe: in worfe than gold ! they have in England

A coin that bears the figure of an angel

Stamped in gold, but that's infculpt upon:

But here an angel in a golden bed

Lies ail within. Deliver me the key 5

Here do I chufe, and thrive I as I may.

For. There take it, Prince, and if my form lie there Then I am yours. [Unlocking the gold casket,

Mor. O hell! what have we here, a carrion death, Within whofe empty eye there is a fcrowU Til read the writing.

Ml that glijlers is not gold. Often have you heard that told j Many a man his life hath fold, But my Ofitfide to behold. Gilded wood may worms infold: Had you been as wife as bold, XoHng in limb, in judgment dd. Tour anfwer had not been infcrcl'd. Fare yo4i welLyour Juit is cold.

30 The MerchanL of Ytmct.

Aftr. Cold indeed, and labour loft : Then farewcl hear, and welcome froft : lorfia adieu, I have roe grieved a heart To rake a tedious leave: thus lolers part. ^Exitr

For. A gentle riddance : draw the curtains, go, Let all of his complexion chufe me fo. [Exeunt^

S C E N E IX. Venice. Enter Solarino and Salanio.

Sill. Why man, r faw Bajptnio under fill, "With hini is Gratiano ^one along, And ii) their fivip Tm flj-e Lorenzo is not.

Sola. The villain yen? wirh outcries rais'd the Duke, * Who went wiih hmi to learch BaJpimo's(h'ip.

Sal. He cime too late, the iliip was under fail y But there the Duke was giv*n to undcrftand. That in a Gondalo were feen together Lorenxo and his am'rous Jejpca : Befides, Anthonw eertify'd the Duke They were not with Bajfanio in his fhip.

Sola. I never heard a paffion fo confus'd. So iirange, outrageous, and fo variable, As the dog Jenv did uKer in the ftreetsj My daughter, O my ducats, O my daughter t Fled with a chriftian ? O my chriftian ducats! Juftice, the law, my ducats, and my daughter! A fealed bag, two fcaled bags of ducats. Of dcuble ducats, {k)ln from me by my daughter I And jewels, two ftones, rich and precioLis ftones, Stoln by my daughter! juftice! find the girl; She hath the ftones upon her, and the ducats.

SaL Why all the boys in Venice follow him^ Crying his ftones, his daughter, and his ducats.

Sola. Let good Anthonio look he keep his day, Or. he fhail pay for this.

5"^/. Marry, well remembered. I reafon'd with a Vrenchman yefterday, Who told me, in the narrow feas that part The French and Engliftj, there mifcarried A veflel of our country richly fraught :

The Merchant^ Venice. 3 r

I thought upon Anthonio when he told me, And wifh*d in fiience that it were not his.

Seif^. You were bcft to tell Anthonio what you Usar-, Yet do notfuddenly, for it may grieve him.

Sdl. A kinder Gentleman treads not the earth. I faw Bajfanio and Anthonia part. Hajfar.io told him he would makefome fpecd Of his return: he anfwcr d, do not fo, Slubber not bufuufs for n^y l^ke, BaffaniOy Bat f!ay the very riping ot the time 5 And for thej^ew's bond which he hath of me. Let it not enter in your mind of love : Be meiry, and'emp;oy your chiefcll: thoughts To courtthip, and fjch fair ollents of love As fhall convenienrly become you there. And even there, his eye being hid with tears, Turning his face, he piu his hand behind him, And with affection wotid'roui fenlible H« wrung Bsjfarjws hand, and fo they parted.

Sola-. I think he only loves the world for him I pray thee let us go and find him out, And quicken his embraced hcavineft With Tome delight or other.

Sal, Do we fo. [Exeun:,

SCENE X. Belmont,

Enter Neriffa with a Servant.

Ner. Qaick, quick, 1 pray thee, draw the cur- tain ftrait.

The Prince of Arragon has ta'en his oath, And comCi to his election prcfcntly.

Enter Arragon, his train, Portia. Flor, Cornets, The Caskets are Jifcover'd,

Per. Behold there ftand the caskets, noble Prince, If you chufe that wherein I am contained, Strait (hall, our nuptial rites be folemniz'd : But if you fail, without more fpecch, my lord, You muft hti gone from hence immediately.

Ar, I am enjoin'd by oath t*obfcrve three things 5 Fir ft, never to unfold to any one

B 4. Which

3^ The Merch^t of Venice.

Which casket 'twas I chofc j next if I fail

Qf the right casket, never m my life

To woo a maid in way of marriage :

Laft, if I fail in fortune of my choice,

Immediately to leave you and be gone.

For, To thefe injunflions every one doth fwear

Tiiat comes to hazard for my worlhlefs (elf. Ar. And fo have I addreft me, fortune now

To my heart's hope \ gold, filver, and bafe lead.

Who chufeth me^ muft give and hazard all he hath.

You fliall look fairer e'er I give or hazard.

What fays the golden cheft? ha, let me fee ;

M^o chufeth mCy /hall gain what many men defire.

What many men defire that may be meant

Of the full multitude that chufe by (how,

Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;

Which pry not to tb* interior, but like the martlet

Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Ev'n in the force and road of cafua'ty. 1 will not chufe what many men defire, Becaufe I will not jump with common fpirits. And rank me with the barbVous multitudes. V/Iiy then to thee thou filver treafure-houfe : Tell me once more, what title thou doft bear ? Who chufeth me^ fhall get at much as he defervesi And well faid too, for who fhall go about To cozen fortune, and be honourable Without the ftamp of merit ? let l\6ne prefume To wear an undeferved dignity :

0 that efiates, degrees, and office?,

Were not derived corruptly, that clear honour Were purchased by the merit of the wearer ! How many then ihould cover that ftand bare ? How many be commanded that command ? How much low peafantry would then be glcan'd From the true feed of honour ? how much honour Pickt from the chaff and ruin of the times, To be new varnifti'd ? well, but to my choice : Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he deferves:

1 will afTume defert 5 give me a key for thir, And inftantly unlock my fortunes here.

For.

The Merchant of Venice. 3 3

Vof, Too long a paufe for that which you find there.

[Unlocking the Jilver casket,

Ar, What's here! the portrait of a blinking idior, Prefenting me a fchedule ? I will read it : How much unlike art thou to Tortia ? How much unlike my hopes and my deferviftgs? Who chufes me /hall have as much as he deferves. Did I defcrve no more than a fool's head ? Is that my prize? are my defercs no better?

Por. To offc;nd and judge are diftind office<f, And of oppofed natures.

Ar, What is here?

The fire fev'n times tried this, Sev'n times tried that judgment is. That did never chufe amifs. Some there be that jhadotos kifs^ Such have but a Jhadow's bltfst There be fools alive, I wis. Silvered oer^ and fo -was this : Take what wife you will to bed, I will ever be your head: So be gone, Sir, you are ffed.

Ar Still more fool I lhall appear By the tim^ 1 linger here; With one fool's head I came to woo, But I go aw^,y with two. Sweet adie^, I'll keep my oath, Paticnriy to bear my wroth. [Exit.

For. Thus hath the candle findgM the moth : O thefe deliberate fools ! when they do chufe, They Uave the wiflom by their wit to lofe.

Ner The ancient faying is no hercfy, Hanging and wiving goe? by deftiny.

For. Come, draw the curtain, Kerijfa, Enter a Servant.

Serv. Where is my lady ?

Por. Here, what would my lord?

Serv. Midajn, there is alighted at your gate A young Venetian, one that comes before To fignify tb' approaching of his lord,

B f . From

j+ The Merchant of Venice.

From whom he bringeth fenfiblc regreets;

To wit, bclides com. mends and courteous breath,

Gifts of rich value \ yet I have not feen

So likfly an ambaflador of love.

A day in A^ril never came fo fweet.

To fhow how coftly fummer was at hand,

As this fore-fpurrer comes before his lord*

Vor, No mx)re I pray thee \ I am half afraid Thou'lt fay anon^ he is feme kin to thee, Thou fpend^'ft fuch high-day wit in praifing him: Come, come, Neriffa, for I long ro fee Quick Cufids poft., that comes fo mannerly.

hler. BaJ[anio lord, Love ! if thy will it be !

[Exeunt,.

ACT ni. S C E N E L

Ve N I C E. Enter Salanio and Solarino-

S O L A R I N a;

NOW, what" news on the Ryaltd ? Sal. Why yet it lives there uncheckt, that M^nthonis bath a fhip of rich lading wrackt on the narrow feas f the Goodmm^ I think they call the places a v*ry dangerous flat and faral, where the carcal&s ©f many a taJl fhip lie bury'd, as they fay, if mj * g^^'P R^forp be an honed woman af her word.

Soi/k. I would fhe were as lying a goflip in that, as ever knapt ginger,, or made her neighbours believe fhe wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true,, witnout any (lips of prolixity, or eroding the plain high-way of talk, that the good Anthonioy th« honeft^

Jnthonio. O that I had a. title good- enough CD-

keep his name company.;. SaL Come, the full flop*

Ha, what fay'ft thou ? why the end is, he hatfe Ibiiafhif.

The Merchant of Venice. 3 j

SbiX, I would it might prore the end of his loffes.

Solt^, Let me fay Amm betimes, left the devil crofs my prayer ^ for here he comes in the likenefs of a Ji-m, How now Shyluky what news among tiie mer- chants r

£«rer Shylock. 5^y. You knew (hone fa well, none To well as you) of my daughter's flight

Sai. That's certain j I for my part knew the taylor thar made the win^s fhe flew withal.

And shylock for his own part knew the bird w^s fledgM, and then it is the complcdtion of them aH' to leave the dam.

tSA^. She is damn'd for it.

Sal. That's certain, if the devil may be here judgcr

shy. My own fle?i and blood to rebel!

Sola, Out upon ir, oii carrion, rebels it at thcic

* ycais ?

shy. I fay, my daughter is my flefh and blood.

Sal. There is more difference between thy flefh and hers, than between jet and ivory j more between your bloods, than there is berween red wine and rhenifh : but tell us, do you hear whether Anthonio have had any lofs at fea or no ?

shy There T have anoiher bad match j a bankrupt, a prodigal, v/ho dares fcarcc fhew his head or> the I^also, a beggar that U5*d to come fo Imug upon the mart I let him look to his^ bond ; he was W( nt to call me ufjrer y let him look to his bond j he was wont to lend money for a: chriftian courtefie j let him look to h\s bond,

Sal. Why I am fure if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flcfhi: what's that good for j

Shy. To bait fifh wirhal. If it will fe-ed nothing dfe, ir will feed my revenge , he hath Hiig-^ac'd me, an i hin- der*d me half a mill on, laughr at my loffes, mockt at ray gains, fcorn'd my nation, thwarted my bargains, cool'd my friends, heated miie enemies j aiid what's hi^ reafon 5 1 am a Je-sp; Hath n^Jt a Jew eyes; hath not a JeTP hands, organs, dimeniions, fcnfes affe- ^ ons, p-ilTioas j f;i with the fame food, hurt with

* umes, the

3 6 The Merchant of Venice.

the fame weapons, fubjeft to the fame difeafes, heard by the fame means, waim'd and cool'd by the fame winter and fa mmer as a chriftian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed ? if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if you poifon us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, fhail we not revenge? If we areh'ke you in the reft, we will refemble you in that. If a Jevcf wrong a chriftian, what is his humiliry ? Revenge. If a chri- ftian wrong a Jeto, what fhould his fufferance be by chriftian example: why Revenge. The villany you teach me I will execute, and it fliall go hard but I will better the inflrudtion

Enter a fer*vant from Anthonio.

Ser. Gentlemen, my mafter AntPjonio is at hi$ houfe, and defires to fpeak with you both.

5^/. We have been up and down to feek him. Enter Tubal!.

Sola, Here comes another of the tribe; a third can- not be matched, unlefs the devil himfelf turn Jew.

[Exeunt Sala. and Solar.

Shy. How now, TubalU what news from Gerwtia f haft thou found my daughter?

Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but can- not find her.

Shy. Why there, there, there, th?re ! a diamond gone coft me two thoufand ducats in Frar>kfort ! the curfe never fell ufKjn our nation 'rill now, I never felt it 'till now ? two thoufind ducats in ihar, and other precious, precious jewels! I would my daugh- ter wer^j dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear ! O would flie were hcrs'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin. No news of them,- why, fo ! and I know not what's fpent in the fearch : why then lofs upon lofs i the thief gone with fo much, and fo much to find the thief i and no fatisf:i6lion, no revenge, nor no ill luck ftirring, but what lights o' my fhoulders, no fighs but o' my breathing, no tears but o' my ftied- ding.

Tab. Yes, other m^n have ill luck too j Anthonio,

a$ 1 heard in Genoua

Shy, What, v/hat, ill luck; ill !uck ?

Tnb,

The Merchant of Venice. 3 7

Tab, Hath an Argofie call away, coming from Tri- folis r

shy. I thank God, lhank God j is it true ? is ic true ?

Tub. I fpoke with fome of the failors that efcaped the wrack.

Sky. I thank thee, good Tuball i good news, good news ; ha, ha, where? in Genoua ?

Tub, Your daughter fpent in Genoua, as I heard, one night fourfcore ducats.

Shy. Thou ftick'ft a dagger in me i I (hall never fee my gold again j fourfcore ducats at a fitting, four- fcore ducats !

Tub, There came divers of Anthonlo's creditors in •my company to Venice^ that fwcar he cannot chufc but break.

Shy. I am glad of it, I'll plague him, I'll torture him j I'm glad of it.

Tub. One of them fhew'd me a ring that he had of your daughter for a monkey.

shy. Out upon her, thou tortured me, Tubxll^ ic was my Turquoife, I had it of Leah when I was a bat- chelorj 1 would not have given iC ror a wildcrnefs of monkies.

Tub. But Jnthonio is certainly undone.

shy. Nay, that's true, that's very rruej go fee me an officer, befpeak him a fortnight before. I will have the heart ot him, if he forfeit j for were he out of Ve- nice^ I can make what merchandize I will : go, go Tubnll, and mee; me at our fynagogue j go, good Tu- ball j at our fynagogue, Tuball. [Exemf,

SCENE II. Bel mont. Enter BaHanio, Portia, Gratiano. a?ul Attendants, The Caskets are fet out.

Tor, I pray you tarry, paufe a day or two Before you hazard i for in chufing wrong I lofc your company ; forbear a while. Therc*s fomcthing tells me (but it is nor love) I would not lofe you j and you know yourfclf, Hate counlcls not in fuch a quality.

But

3 S The Merchant of Venice.

But left you fhould not underftand me well, And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought^ I would detain you he:*c (bme month or two, Before you venture for mc. I could teach you How to chufe right, but I am then foifworn So will I never be, £b may you mils me j But if you do, you'll make me wifli a fin, That I had been forfworn. BeRircw your eyes. They have o'erlookM me, and divided mej One half of me is yours, the other half Mine own, I would fay : but if mine, then yours And fo all yours. Alas!*thefe naughty times Put bars between the owners aad their rights : And' fo tho* yours, not yours j prove it fo, Let fortune- go to hell for it, not I. I fpeak too long, but 'tis to piece the time-, To eche it out, and^draw it oat in len;^th. To ftay you from eleifVion.

Bujf. Let me chufe : For as I am, 1 live upon the rack.

Par. Upon the rack, Bajfanto f then confels What treafon there is mingled with your love?

Bujf. None but that ugly trcafon of miftruft. Which makes m^ fear rh' enj-oying of my k)ve: There may as well be amity and life ■"Tween fnow and fire, as treafon and my love.

Tor, Ay, but I fear you fpeak upon the rack. Where men enforced do fpeak any tl ing.

Bajf^ Promiie me life, and Til confefs the truth. Tor. Well then, confefs and live. Baff Confefs and love Had been the very fjm of my confcffion, G happy torment, when my torturer

Doth teach me anfwers for deliverance! But let me to my fortune and the caskets. Por. Away then. I am iockt in one of them,

If you do love me, you will find me out..

Nerijfa and the rei\ Itand all aloof.

Let mufick found while he doth make his choice ;

Then if he lofe, he maket a fwan-like end,

fading in. mufick. That the. campari&n

Tke Merchant of Venice. 35^

stay ftand more juft, my eye fhall be the ftream knd wat'ry death-bed for him : he may win, And what is mufick then ? then mufick is lEven as the flourifli, when true fubje^s bow [To a new crowned monai^ch: fuch it is, As are thofe dulcet founds in break of day, That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear^ And furamon him to marriage. Now he goes With no Icfs prefence but with much more love, Than young Alcides, when he did redeem The virgia-tributc paid by howling Troy To the fea monfter : I ftand for facrifice 5^ The reft aloof arc the Bur^anian wives. With bleared vifages came forth to view The iffuc of th' exploit. Go Hercfilesy Live thou, I live i with much, much more difmay i view the fight, than thou that mak'ft the fray.

[Mufick whhif^ A Song whilji Baflanio comments on the caskets to himfelf.

Tell me -where is funcy bred.

Or in the hearty or in the head I

How begot y hove nourtfhed I

Rsply, reply.

It is eng€nder'd in the eye^ IVith gazing Jtd, and fancy dies- In the cradle where it lies : Let us all ring fancy's kmlL ril begin it. Dingy dongy 6elL

All. Dingy dong, bell.

Bajf. So may t he outward fhows be kaft themfclves: The world is Hill deceiv'd with ornament. In law what plea fo tainted and corrupr,^ But being ftafon*d with a gracious voice, I Obfcures the (bow of evil ? in religion ; What damned error, but Ibme fobcr brow Will hlefs it, and approve it with a text. Hiding the groffiiefc with fair ornament I Tbere is no vice lb iimple, but afTumes

40 The Merchant of Venice.

Some mark of virtue, on his outward parts.

How many cowards, whole hearts are all as falfc

As ftairs of fand, wear yet upon their chins

The beards of Hercules and frowning Murs ;

Who inward fcarcht, have livers white as milk ?

And thefe afliime but valour's excrement,

To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,

And you (hall fee 'tis purchased by the weight,

Which therein works a miracle in nature,

Making them ligbteft that wear moft of it:

So are thofe crifped fnaky golden locks

Which make fuch wanton gambols with the wind

Upon fuppofed fairnefs, often known

To be the dowry of a fecond head,

The skull that bred them, in the fepulchre.

Thus Ornament is bat the gilded fhore

To a moft dang'rous fea^ the beautflous fcarf

Veiling an Indian beauty j in a word,

The feeming truth which cunning times put on

T entrap the wifeft. Then thou gaudy gold,

Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee:

Nor none of thee, ihpu pale and common drudge

'Tween man and man : but thou, thou meager lead,

Which rather threatneft than doft proraife aught j

Thy palenefs moves me more than eloquence,

And here chufe 1, joy be the confequence.

Vor. How all the other pallions fleet to air. As doubtful thoughts and rafh embraced defpair. And fhadd'ring fear, and green- ey 'd jeaioufie,

0 love be mode; ate, allay rhy ecftafiei In meafure r^in thy joy, fcant this txceft,

1 feel too much thy bleffing j make it lefs

For fear I furfeit. [O^^ening the ieaJ^ j^aik^

What find I here r Fair Portia's counterfeit? what Demy-god Hath come fo near creation? move thefe eyes r Or whether ridi^ng on the balls of mine Seem they in motion ? here are fever'd lips Parted with fugar^d breath \ fo fweet a bar Should funder fuch fweet friefids: here in her hairs The painter plays the f]^13er, and^ hatlj woven

The Merchant of Venice. 41

A golden mefh t'nntrap the hearts of men

Faftepthaa gnats in cobwebs: but her eyes,

How could he fee to do them? having made one,

M^hinks it fliould have pow'r to fteal both his,

And leave it felf * unfinilh'd : yet how far

The fubftance of my praife doth wrong this (hadow>

In underprifing it, far this fhadow

Doth limp behind the fubftance. Here's the fcrowl.

The continent and fummary of my fortune.

Ten that chufe not by the view, Cimnee as fair y and chufe as true : Since this fortune falls toyoUy Be content, andfeek no new. If you be well fleas' d with this^ And hold your fortune for your blift^ Turn you where your lady is, And claim her with a loving ktfs,

A gent!? fcrowl^ fair lady, by your leavc, [Kijing herl

I come by note to give, and to receive.

Like one of two contending in a prize,

That thinks he hath done well in people's eycsj

Hearing applaufe and univerfal (hout,

Q\ddy in fpirit, gazing ftill in doubt,

Whether thofc peals of praife be his or no>

So (thrice fair lady) (land I, even fo,

As doubtful whether what I fee be true.

Until confirmed, fign'd, ratify'd by you.

Por. You fee, my lord Baffanio, where I (land, Such as 1 am ; tho' for my felf alone, I would not be ambitious in my wifh, To wifh my felf much better; yet for you, I would be trebled twenty times my felf, A choufand times'more fair, ttn thoufand time$ More rich, that to (land high in your account I might in virtues, beauties, Jiving?, friends. Exceed account : but the full fum of me Is fum of nothing, which to term in grofs, Is an unleflbn'd girl, unfchool'd, unpradiis'd, Happy in this, (he is not yet fo old Bat fhc may learn i more happy than in this,

♦ Hnfurnijh'd. She'

The Merchant ^Venice.

She is not bred fo dull but fhe can learn ^ Happieft of art is, that her gentle fpiric Commits itfelf to yours to be diredled, As from her lord, hsr governor, her king ; Myfelf, and what is mine, to yon and yours Is now converted. 1 but now was lady Of this fair manfion, miftrefs of my fervants. Queen o'er myfelf j and even now, but now This houfe, thefe fervants, and this fame myfelf Are yours, my lord : I give them with this ring. Which when you part from, lofe or give away, Let it prefage the ruin of your love. And be my vantage to exclaim on you.

Bi^jf. Madam, you have bereft me of all words, Only my blood fpeaks to you in my veins j And there is fuch confuHon in my pow'rs, As after fome oration fairly fpoke By a beloved prince, there doth appear Among the buzzing pleafed multitude. Where every fomething being blent together, Turns to a wild of no hing, fave of joy Expreft, and not expreft. But when this ring Parts from this finger, then parts life from hencep G then be bold to fay, Bajfinio^s dead.

Ner. My lord and lady, it is now our timo. That have ftood by, and feen our wilhes profper. To cry good joy, good joy, my lord and lady.

Gra. My lord Bajfanioy and my gentle ladyt I wifh you_ all the joy that you can wiHi y For I am fure you can wifti none for me : And when your honours mean to folemnize The bargain of your faith, I do beieech you Ev*n at that time I may be married too.

Bag, With all my heart, fo thou canft get a wife.

Gra. I thank your lordfhip, you have:got me one. My eyes, my lord, can look as fwift as your-s; You faw the miflrefs, 1 beheld the maid} You lov'd 5 I lov'd for intermiffion. No more pertiins to me, my lord, than you. Your fortune ftood upon the casket there, And fo did mine too as the matter falls :

Fo

The Merehant of Venice, 4 j

^or wooing here until I fw^at again,

And fwcaring *tiil my very roof was dry,

With oaths of love at laft, if promife laft^

[ got a promife of this fair one here,

To have her love, provided that your fortune

^tchicvM her miftrefs.

Por. Is this true, Nerijfa T

N'er, Madam, it is, fo you (land plcas'd withal.

Bajf. And do you, Gratlan9^ mean good faith ?

Grx. Yes, faith, my lord, [i"iagC;

Baff. Our feaft fball be much honour'd in your mar-

Gra. We'll play with them, the firft boy for a thou*' .and ducats.

Ker, What, and ftake down ?

Gr£t>. No, wcflialine*er win at that fport, and ftake- down.

But who comes here ? Lorensio and his infidel? What, and my old rmef^i". friend, Sahn:oJ.

SCENE III. Enter Lorenzo, Jellica, and Salanio.

Baff. Lorenzo and SaUnio, welcome hither. If that the youth of my new intereft here Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave I bid my very friends and couutry-men, (Sweet Portia) welcome.

For, So do I, my lord ; they are intirely welcome.

Lor. I thank your honour: for my part, my lord? My purpofe was not to have fcen you here, But meeting with Salanio by the way |He did intreat me paft all faying nay. |To come with him along, j Sal. I did, my lord, 'And I have reafon for'c } Signior Anthonto Commends him to you.

Bajf. E'er I ope his letter, I pray you tell m^ how my good friend d©th.

SaL Not (ick, my lord, unlcfs it be in mind: Nor well, unlefs in mind *, his letter there Will (hew you his cftatc.

Baflanift

44- Merchant of Venice,

Baffanio opem the Utter.

GrA. Neriffit.chttT yond ftf anger. Bid her welcome. Your hand, SaUnio; what's the news from Vmcet \ How doth that royal merchanr, good Jnthofiio ? X know he will be glad of our fuccefs : We are the Jii[om, we have won the fleece.

SaI. Would you had won the fleece that he hath loft.

for. There are ibme fhrewd cpntents in yond fame paper,

That ftea! the colour from J5^jf^»i(?'s cheek:

Some dear friend dead, elfe nothing in the world

Could turn fo much the conftitution

Of any conftant man. What, worfc and worfc?

With leave, BaJfaniOy 1 am half yourfelf,

And I muft have the half of any thing

That this fame paper brings you,

Baff, O fweet Tortit^ / Here are a few of the unpleafani'll words That ever blotted paper. Gentle lady, When I did firft impart my love to you, 1 freely told you, all the wealth I had Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman; And then I told you true^ and yet dear lady^ Rating myfelf at nothing you (hall fee How much I was a braggart : when I told ypu My ftate was nothing, I (hould then have told yovjf That I was worfe than nothing. For indeed I have engag'd myfelf to a dear friend \ Engag'd my friend to his mcer enemy, To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady. The paper is the body of my friend, And every word in it a gaping wound, Ifluing life-blood. But is it true, Sdaniot Have all his ventures fail'd ? what, not one hit From Tripolh, from Mexico, from EngUnii From Lishn, Bariaryy and India I And not one veffel 'fcap'd the dreadful touch Of merchant-marring rocks ?

Sal. Not one, my lord. Befides it (hould appear^ that if he had

The

The Merchant ^t/" Venice, 45

l^e prefent money to difcharge the Jevp, He wouM not take it. Never did I know A creature that did bear the fhape of man, So keen and greedy to confound a man. He plies the Diike at morning and at night. And doth impeach the freedom of the ftate. If they deny him juftice. Twenty merchants. The Duke himfclf, and the Magnificoes Of greateft port have all perfuaded with him, But none can drive him from the envious plea Of forfeiture, of juftice, and his bond.

Jef. When I was with him, I have heard I'iim fwear. To TubM and to Chus his country-men, That he woc'd rather have Anthonio's flefh. Than twenty times the value of the fum That he did owe him i and I know, ray lord, If law, authority, and powV deny not. It will go hard with poor Anthcnk,

F0r. Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?

Bajf The deareft friend to me, the kindeft man, The beft-conditiofi'd and unweary'd fpirit In doing courtefiesj and one in whom The ancient Roman honour more appears Than any that draws breath in Italy,

For. What fum owes he the yen> ?

Bajf. For me three thoufand ducats.

T(fr, What, no more? Pay him fix thoufand, and deface the bond-j Double Iix thoufand, and then treble that, Before a friend of this defcription Shall lofe a hair through my Bajfanid*s fault. Firfl go with me to church, and call me wife, And then away to Venice to your friend : For never fhall you lie by Portta^s fide With an unquiet foul. You fhall have gold To pay the petty debt twenty times over. When it is paid, bring your true friend along. My maid Nerijfa and myfelf mean time Will live as maids and widows : come away.

For

46 The Merchant of Venice. \

For you (hall hence upon your wedding-day. * But let me hear the letter of your friend.

Bajf. reads. Sr»en BalTanio, my jfhips have all mif tarry d, my creditors grow cruel, my eft ate is very low. my bond to the Jew is forfeit ; and fince in faying it, i is impojpile I fhould live, all debts are cleared between i^OH and me^ if I might but fee you at my death j not with/landing ufe your pleafure : if your love do not per' fuade you to come, iet not my letter, \

Tor, O love! difpatch all bufinefs, and be gone, BaJf, Since I have your good leave to go away, I will make hafte; but till I come again, ! No bed ftiall e'er be guilty of my ftay.

Nor reft be interpofcr 'twixt us twain. [Exetmt\

SCENE IV. Venice. Enter Shylock, Solarino, Anthonio, W fi^^Goalcfs,

Shy, Goaler, look to him : tell not me of mercy, This is the fool that lent out money gratis, Goaler, look to him.

Ant. Here me yet, good Shylock, ^

Shy, ril have my bond j fpeak not againft my bond i I'velworn an oath that 1 will have my bond. Thou call'dft me dog before thou hadft a caufe j But fince I am a dog, beware my fangs; The Duke (hall grant me juftice. I do wondej, Thou naughty goaler, that thou art fo fond | To come abroad with him at his requeft. {

jint, I pray thee hear me fpeak.

Shy, ril have my bond : I will not hear thee fpeaki I'll have my bond,* and therefore fpeak no raore^ rB not be made a foft and duU-eyM fool, \ To {h^e the bead, relent, and figh and yield -

Td

* your wedding-day. Bid your friends welcome, (hew a merry cheer 5 Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. But let me hear, ^c.

The Merchant of Venice. 47

To chriftian interceflbrs. Follow not ; ^ rS have no fpeaking j I will have my bond.

[Exit Shylock,

It is the mod impenetrable cur That ever kept with men.

Ant. Let him alone, ni follow him no more with bootlcfs pray'rs^ He feeks my life j his rcafon well 1 know } I ofc deliver'd from his forfeitures Many that have at times made moan to me ^ Therefore he hates me.

Sola. I am Ture the Duke Will never grant this forfeiture to hold.

Ant, The Duke cannot deny the courfe of law; Por the commodity that ftrangers have

With us in Venicti if it be dcny'd.

Will much impeach the juftice of the ftate,

Since that the trade and profit of the city

Confifteth of all nations. Therefore go,

Thefe griefs and loffes have fo bated me.

That I (hall hardly fpare a pound of flefli

To-morrow to my bloody creditor.

Well, goaler, on j pray God Bajfanh come

To fee me pay his debt, and then I care not ! [Exeunt.

S C.E N E V. BEiMON T.

EnttT Portia, Ncriffa, Lorenzo, Jcflica, and a yir- vant of PortiaV.

Lor. Madam, although I fpeak it in your prefeacc. You have a noble and a true conceit Of God-like amity, which appears ftrongly In bearing thus the abfcnce of your lord. But if you knew to whom you (hew this honour. How true a gentleman you fend relief to. How dear a lover of my lord your husband, I know you would be prouder of the work. Than cuftomary bounty can enforce you.

Tor. I never did repent of doing good. And (hall not now ; for in companions That do convcrfc and wafte the time together,

Whofe

48 The Merchant of Venice.

Whofe fouls cl# bear an equal yoke of love,

There muft be needs a like proportion

Of lineaments, of manners, and of fpirir;

Which makes me think that this AnthoniOt

Being the bofom-lover of my lord,

Muft needs be like my lord. If it be fo.

How little is the coft I have beftow'd

In purchafing the femblance of my foul

From out the ftate of helli(h cruelty ?

This comes too near the prailing of mylelfj

Therefore no more of it : here other things,

LorenzOi I commit into your hands.

The husbandry and manage of my houfe,

Until my lord's return. For mine own part,

I have tow'rd heaven breath'd a fccret vow.

To live in prayer ^nd contemplation.

Only attended by Nerijft here,

Until her husband and my lord's return.

There is a monaftery two miles off,

And there we will abide. I do define you

Not to deny this impoficion,

The which my love and foms neceflfuy

Now lays upon you.

Ler. Madam, with all my heart, I fliall obey you in all fair commands.

For, My people do already know my miod. And will acknowledge yoj and J^ffica In place of lord Baffanio and myfeif. So fare you well, 'till we fhall meet again.

Lor. Fair thoughts and happy hours attend oa you.

Jef i wi(h your ladyfhip all heart's content.

Per, I thank you for your wifli, and am wcUplcas'd To wilh it back on you : fare you vjd\,Je£jca>

[Exeunt Jcf. AnJ Lor.

Now, Bahhaz^ar,

As I have ever found thee honeft, true.

So let me find thee ftill : take this fame letter.

And ufe thou all the endeavours of a man.

In fpeed to Mantua 5 fee thou render this

Into my coufin^s hand, do&or BellariOi

And look what notes and garments be doth give thee,

The Merchant ofVtmzcl /s^9

Bring them, I pray thee, with imagined fpeed Unto the Trajeft, to the common ferry Which trades to Venice : wafte no time in words. But get thee gone ; I (hall be there before thee.

Bal. Madam, I go with all convenient fpeed. \^Exit.

Por. Come on, Neriffa, I have work in hand That yoa yet know not of : we'll fee our hufbands Before they think of us.

AV. Shall they fee us ?

For. They fhall, Neriffa ; but in fuch a habit. That they fhall thiwk we are accomplilhed Witli, what we lack. Til hold thee any wager. When we are both apparell'd like young men, ril prove the prettier fellow of the tv/o. And wear my dagger with the braver grace ;

* And fpeak between the change of man and boy, ' With a reed voice ; and turn two mincing fleps

^ Into a manly ftride, and fpeak of frays

* Like a fine bragging youth ; and tell quaint Iye=?, ^ How honourable ladies fought my love,

* Which I denying, they fell fick and dy'd,

1 could not do with all : then Til repent, , And wilh for all that, that I had not kili'd them,

* And twenty of thefe puny lyes I'll tell;

* That men.fliall fv/ear I've diicontinu'd fchool

* Above a twelve-month. I have in my mind \ thoufand raw tricks of thefe bragging jack%. Which I will practife.

A^-;*. Shall we turn to men ?

Por. ¥y, v/hat a quclticn's that, }f thou wert near a icfwd interpreter ? But come, I'll tell thee ail my whole device When I am in my coach, which fiays for us At the park-gate ; and therefore haile away. For we ihuil meafurc twenty miles to-day. [^Exeunt-

'scene VI. E^tier Launcclot and JefTica. Laun. Yes, truly : for look you, the fins of the fa- th#r are to be laid upon tlie children ; therefore I.pro- inife you> I fear you. I was always plain with you: C and

f o The Merchant of Venice.

and fo now I fpeak my agitation of the matter : there- fore be of good cheer i for truly I think you are damn'd: there is but one hope in it that can do you any good, and that is but a kind of baftard-hope nei- ther.

Jef, And what hope is that, I pray thee ? Lau^, Marry you may partly hope that your father got you not, that you are not the Jeiv's daughter.

Je/l That were a kind of baflard-hope indeed; fo the fms of xny mother fhould be vifited upon me.

Laun. Truly then I fear you are damn'd both by father and mother ; thus when you fhun Scy/Ia, your father, you fall into Cbaribdis, your mother : well, you are gone both ways.

Jef, I fliall be faved by my husband ; he hath made me a chriftian.

Laun, Truly the more to blame he ; we were chri- fliaas enough before, e'en as many as could well live one by another : this making of chrilHans will raife the price of hogs ; if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we Oiall not Ihortly have a ^aflier on the coals fbr joiony. ^

Enter Lorenzo. Jef. ril tell my husband, Launceloty what you fay : ^ere he comes.

Lor, I fhall grow jealous of you fhortly, Launceloty if yoa thus get my wife into corners.

yef. Nay, you need not f(?ar us, Lcrenzoi Launce^ ht and I are Cut ; he tells me flatly, there is no mer- cy for me in heav'n, becaufe I am a JenjSs daughter : and he fays, you are no good member of the com- jnon-wealth ; for in converting Jc-vjs to chrillians, yon jaife the price of pork.

Lor, 1 fliall anlwer that better to the common-, wealth than you can- the getting np of the negro's belly : the Moor is with child by you, Lamcelot,

Lair'. It is macU that the Twicer Ihould be more than reafon : but if fne be lefs than an hrju.eft woman, ihe is indeed more than I took her for^

Lcr. M o\v every fool can play upon the wcitJ ! tUmk tlve beft giace of wi: wiil Ihortly turn into fi-

Icnce,

2

The Merchant of Venice. 5 1

lence, and difcourfe grow commendable in none but parrots. Go in, .firrah, bid tiiem prepare for dinner.

Laun, That is done. Sir ; they have ail llomachs.

Lor. Good lord, what a wit-fnapper are you I then bid them prepare dinner.

Laun. That is done too. Sir; only cover is thd word.

Lor, Will you cover then. Sir?

Laun, Not fo. Sir, neither; I know my duty.

Lor, Yet more quarrelling with occafion ! wile thou fhew the whole wealth of thy wit in an inllant ? I pray thee underfland a plain man in his plain mean- ing : go to thy fellows, bid them cov^r the table, ferve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.

Laun, For tJie table. Sir, it fhall be ferv'd in ^ for the meat. Sir, it fhall be covered ; for you coming in to dinner. Sir, why let it be as humours and conceits fhall govern, [Exit, Laun.

Lor, O dear difcretion, how his words are iuitedl ' The fool hath planted in his memory

* An army of good words ; and I do kndw ' A many fools that f^and in better place,

* Garnifh'd like him, that for a trickiie word

* Defie the matter : how far'll thou, Jejjica ? And now, good fvveet, fay thy opinion, How doll thou like the lord BaJJ'anio's wife ?

Jef. Paft all expreffing : it is very meet The lord Boffanio live.an upright life. For having luch a Blefling in his Jady, He hnds the joys of heaven here on earth: And if on earth he do not * merit it, II In reafon he fhould never come to heav'ji. Why, if two Gods fliould play fome heav'nly match^ And on the wager lay two earthly women. And Fortm one, there mull be fometliing elfe Pawn'd with the other ; for the poor rucie world Hath not her fellow. .

Lor, Even fuch a husband Hall thou of me, a«^ flie is for 4 wife, ► Jcf. Nay, but a^k my opinion too of that.

IfOr, 1 will anon : {\\\\ let us go to dinntr.

C 2 j^r,

* mean k H A rcafju

The Merchant ^/Venice.

. Jef, Nay, let me praife you while I have a ftomach. Lor, No, pray thee, let it ferv^ for table-talk ; Then howfoe'er thou fpeak'ft, 'mong other things, I ihall digeft it.

Jef. Well, ril fet you forth. \Exeunt.

A C T IV. S C E N E I.

V U I C E,

Enter Z/?'^ Duke, the Senatorsy Anthonio, Baffanio, and Gratiano.

Duke.

WHAT, is Anthonlo Iiere ? Ant. Ready, Tj pleafe your Grace. Duke, Ym forry for thee^ thou art come to anfwer A ilony Adverfary, an inhuman wretch Uncapable of Pity, void and empty From any dram of mercy.

Ant. I have heard Your Grace hath ta'en great pains to qualifie His rig'rous Gourfe ; but fmce he fland^ obdurate. And that no lawful means can carry me Out of his envy's reach, I do oppofe My patience to his fury, and am arm'd To fufFer with a quietnefs of fpirit The very tyranny and rage of his.

Duke. Go on, and call the Je^jo into the court. ^al. He's ready at the door : he comes, my Lord. Enter Shylock.

Duke. Make room, and let him iland before our face, ^-^yylocky the \\'orld thinks, and I think fo too. That thou but lead'll: this fafhion of thy malice To the laft hour of a£l, and then 'tis thought Thou'k lliew thy mercy and remorfe more ftrange Than is thy ftrange apparent cruelty. And where ihou now exad'jft the penalty, Which is a pound of this poor merchant's fielh. Thou wilt not only lofe the forfeiture,

The Merchant Vcnkc, 5 3

Bat touched with human gentlenefs and love. Forgive a moiety of the principal ; Glancing an eye of pity on his loffes That have of late fo hudled on his back Enough to prefs a royal merchant down, And pluck commiferation of his ftate FrombralTy bofoms, and rough hearts of flint. From ftubborn l^urks SindTartarSy never trair/d To offices of tender courtefie. We all expedl a gentle anfvver, y^'iv.

S^y. I have pollefs'd your Grace of w^hat I purpoie^ And by our holy Sabbath have I fworn To have the due and forfeit of my bond. If you deny it, let the danger light Upon'your charter, and your city's freedom. You'll ask me Vv hy .1 rather chufe to have A weight of carrion flefh, than to receive Three thoufand ducats ? FU nctanrwcr that. But fay it is my humour, is it aniwered ? What if my houfe be troubled Vv ith a rat. And I be pleased to give ten thoufand ducats To have it bane'd ? what, are you anfwer'd yet \ Some men there are, love not a gaping pig. Some that are mad if they behold a cat, And others, when the bag-pipe fings i'th nofe. Cannot contain their urine for affedtion. Mailerlefs paffion fways it to the mcod Of what it iikes or loaths. Now for your anfwer : As there is no firm reafon to be render'd Why he cannot abide a gaping pig. Why he a harmlefs neceffary catj Why he a woollen bag-pipe, but of force Mull yield to fuch inevitable fliame, .As to offend, himfelf being offended ; So can I give no reafon, nor I will not, IVTore than a lodgM hate and a certain loathing I bear Anthoniot that I follow thus A lofmg fuit againft him. Are you anfwer'd ?

Bajf. This is no anfwer, thou unfeeling man, T'excufe the current of thy cruelty.

^^v. I am not bound to pleafe thee with my anfwer.

C 3 BaJ.

54 Merchant ^/Venicc.^

Bo.ff. Do rJI men kill the thing they do not love r ^hy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill ? Bajf. Ev'ry oiFence is not a hate at firil. Uhy. What would' ii thou have a ferpent fting thee twice ?

Ant. I pray you think you queftion with a Jevo^ You may as well go fland upon the beach, -And bid the main ilood bate his ufual height, * You may as well ufe queition with the wolf. Why he hath made the ewe bleat for th-c lamb ? You may as well forbid the mountain-pines To wag their high tops, and to mal^e no noife When they are fretted with the gulls of heav'n. Ycu may as well do any thing moft hard, i^s feek to foften that (than which what's harder?) His Jen.*j[fh heart. Therefore I do befeech you# Make no more offers, ufe no farther means. But with all brief and plain conyeniency Let ivave jadga^ent, and the Jc-jj his wii^.

BaJf. For thy three thoufand ducats here %

Shy-, If evVy ducat in fix thoufand ducats Were in fix part?, and eVry part a ducat, 1 would not draw them, 1 would have my bond.

Duke. How fhalt thou hope for mercy, rendering none ?

.S^^'. What judgment fhall I dre«d, doing nowTOng? Vou have among you many a purchased llaye,^ W~hich, like your affes and yoi'.r dogs and mules, Ycu ufe in abjecl and in Caviin part, Becaufe ycu bought them. Shall I fay to you, Let them be free, marry them to your heirs ? Why fweat thy under burdens r let their beds Be made as foft as yourSj and let their pallats Be feafonM with fuch yiands : you will anfwej*^ The flaves are ours. So do I anfwer you. The pound of flefh which I demand of him Is dearly bought, 'tis mine, and I will have it. If you deny me, fie upon your law. There is no force in the decrees of Venice: I ftand for judgment anfwer ; lhall I have it ?

Duke.

* Tou may as n^:ell ufe queftion n^ith the ^olf,

fhe c^e bkat far the lanthj )'qu may as wdl^ &C*

The Merchant of Venice, 5 5

Duke. Upon my pow'r I may difmifs this court, Unlefs Bellarioy a learned do6lor, Whom I have fent for to determine this. Come here to-day.

SaL My lord,' here flays without A meflenger wich letters from the dodlor. New come from Faduc,

Duke. Bring us the letters, call the meflertgers.

Bajf. Good cheer, Antho}:h\ what man, courage yet The Je^i: fhall have my fiefh, blood, bones, and all. Ere thou (halt lofe for me one drop of Wood.

Ant. I am a tahited wether of the flock, Meeteft for death : the weakefl kind of fruit Drops earliefl: to the ground, and fo let me. You cannot better be employ'd, Bajfanio^ Than to live iVi 11, and wiite mine epitaph.

SCENE II.

Enter Neriflk Jiefidllh a La^juyers Clerk.

Duke, Came you f:om Padua, from Bellano l Ner, From both, my lord : Bellario greets your GvtczQ^ BaJf. Why doll thou whet thy knife fo earneftly I Sby, To cut the forfeit from that bankrupt^ there. Gra. Not on thy foul! but on thy foul, harfli Jc-ixr,

Thou mak'fl thy knife keen ; for no metal can,

No not the hangman's ax, bear half the keenncfs

Of thy fliarp envy. Can no prayers pierce thce.^ SJ?y^ No, none that thou haft wit enough to make* Gra. O be thou damn'd, inexorable dog.

And for thy life let juftice be accusM.

Thou almofl mal^ft me waver in my faith.

To hold opinion with Pythagoras^

That fouls of animals infufe themfelves

Into the trunks of men. Thy currifli fpirit

Governed a wolf, who hangM for human flaughtcr,

Ev'n from the gallows did his fell foul fleet.

And whirfl thou lay'ft in thy unhallow'd dam,

Infus'd it felf in thee : for thy defires

Arewolfifli, bloody, flarvM, and ravenous.

Shy. 'Till thou canft rail the feal from oft' my bond;,

Thou but.offend'5: thy lungs to fpeak fo loud.

I

3 6 The Merck ant of Venice.

Repair thy wit, gocd youth, or it will fall 'I'o carelcls ruin. I ftand here for law.

Duke. This letter from Bcllarlo doth commend A young and learned dodor in our court. Where is he ?

AV/ . He attcndeth here hard by To know your anfwer, whether you'll admit him?

Duke. With all my heart. Some tliree or four of yon Go, give him courteous condud to this place: ?vlean time the court lliall hear Btl/ario's kitcr,

YOUR Grace fr:all nttderfiand^ that at the receipt of your letter y I cm I'ery fick : hut at the injlant that your mejfenger camCy in lo ving njijitation njcas nvith we a young do8or of Rome, his name is Balthafar: / acquainted him ijoith the canfe in cofitrouerjie hetiijeen the Jew and Anthonio the merchant. We turnd o*er many looks together: he is funujhed -ixith 7ny opinion, i jhich bettered ^vith his Qivn learning, ( the greatnefs IV he reef I cannot enough commend , ) comes ucith him at ■m^ impcrtunityy to fAl up your Grace's requejl in my Jhad. I befetch youy let his lack cf years he no impcdi- nient to let him lack a re^verend ejli/nation : For I nc^jer knc^ fo young a body ^j^ith fo old a head, I league him to your gracious acceptance, uuhofe iryal J!:all better pub- ijh his co?nmendation.

Enter Portia, drefs'd like aDo6lor of La-jss,

Duke. You hear the leani'd Bcllario what he writes. And here, I take it, is thedodlor come: Give me your hand. Came you from old Bcllario ?

Per. I did, my lord.

Duke, You're welcome : take your place. Are you acquainted with the difference That holds this prefcnt qaellion in the court }

Por. I am informed tii roughly of the cafe. Which is the merchant here? and which the *

Duke. Anthonio and old 6'/^v/cci, both iland forth.

Por. Is your name Shylock ?

Shy. Shylack is my name.

Por. Of a ftrange nature is th*e fuit you follow, Yet in fuch rule, that the Fenetianhw

Can- .

The Merchant of Y^mcc. 5

Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed.

You ftand within his danger, do you not ? [To Anth.

^ ylnt. Ay, To he fays.

Por, Do you confefs the bond ?

Jnt. I do.

Pgr. Then mull the J(nv be merciful.

Sh)\ On w hat compuifion muft I ? tell me that.

* Por. The quality of mercy is not l^rain'd ;

* It droppeth as the gentle rain frcnxheav'n

* Upon the place beneath. It is twice blefs'd,

' It blefleth him that gives, and him that takes.

* 'Tis mightiell in the mightiell, it becomes

' The throned monarch better than his crown :

* His fcepter fliews rhe force of temporal pow'r,

* The attribute to awe and majefty,

* Wherein doth fit the dread and fear of Kings ;

* But mercy is above this fcepter'd fway, < Ic is enthroned in the hearts of Kings,

* It is an attribute to God himfelf ;

* And earthly power doth then ihew likeft God's,

* When mercy fcafons juitice. Therefore, y^av. The' jaftice be thy plea, confider this,

That in the courTe of juiUce none of us

Should fee falvation. We do pray for mercy,

And that fame pray'r doth teach us all to render

The deeds of mercy. I have fpoke thus much

To mitigate the juftice of thy plea ;

Which if thou follow, this Itrid court Venice

Mull needs give fentcnce 'gainit the merchant there.

Shy. My deeds upon my head. I crave the law. The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

Por. Is he rot able to difcharge the mony ?

Bajf^ Yes, here I tender it for him in the court, Yea, twice the fum ; if that will not fuffice, I will be bound to pay 'it ten times o'er, Oa forfeit of my hands, .my head, my heart. If this Will not I'uffice, it mull appear That malice bears down truth. And I befeech you Wrell once th-e^aw to your authority. To do a great right, do a little wrong, Ani curb this cruel devil of his will.

C 5

$ 8 The Merchant of Venic?.^

Per. It muft not be, there is no pow'r in Venit^ ]

Can alter a decree eftablilhed. 'Twill be recorded for a precedent, And many an error by the fame example Will rufh into the ftate. It cannot be.

Shy. A haniel come to judgment ! yea, a Daniet. O wife* young judge, how do I honour thee ! For. I pray you let me look upon the bondi Sfy. Here 'tis, moft rev'rend dodlor, here it is. For. Shylock^ there's thrice thy mony offered thee. Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an ©ath in heav*ik Shall I lay perjury upon my foul ? Ko, not for Venice.

For. Why, this bond is forfeit. And lawfully by this the may claim

A pound of flefh, to be by him out off Neareft the merchant's heart. Be merciful. Take thrice the mony, bid me tear the bond.

Shy. When it is paid according to the tenurfe. It doth appear you are a worthy judge ; You know the law, your expofuion Hath been moft found. I charge you by the law^ Whereof you are a well-deferving pillar^ Proceed to judgment. By my foul I fwean There is no power in the tongue of man To alter me. I ftay here on my bond.

Ant. Moft heartily I do befeech the court To give the judgment.

For. Why then thus it is: You muft prepare your bofom for his knife. Shy. O noble judge! O excellent young man ! For. For the intent and purpofe of the law Hath full relation to the penalty. Which here appeareth due upon the bond.

SJ?j. 'Tis very true. O wiie and upright judgi?, How much more elder art thou than thy looks ! For. Therefore lay bare your bofom. Shy. Ay, his breaft. So fays tV.e bond, doth it not, nob^e judge? Neareft his heart, thofe are tLe vtr/ words.

F^r. It is io. Are there fcales to weigh tie ftefh ? Shy. I have ti&em ready.

Tfoe Merchant of Venice' 5 9

Por. Have by fome furgeon, Shyloch, cn your charge^^ . To flop his wounds, left he ftiould bleed to death.

Shy, Is it fo nominated in the boud ?

For, It is not fo exprefs'd ; but what of that ? 'Twere good you do fo much for charity.

Shy, I cannot find it, 'tis not in the bond.

For. Come, merchant, have you any thing to fay ^

Ant. But little : I am arm'd and well prepar'd. Give me your hand, Baffanio^ fare you wefi* Grieve not that I am falPn to this for you : For herein fortune fliews her felf more kind Than is her cuftom. It is ftill her ufe To let the wretched man out-live his wealth. To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow An age of poverty. From which ling'ring penance.- Offuch a mifery doth flie cut me off. Commend me to your honourable wife ; Tell her the procefs of-Anthonios end ; Say how I lov'd you ; fpeak me fair in death : And when the tale is told, hid her be judge. Whether Beffanio \\zA not cnce a love. Repent not you that you fhall lofe your friend. And he repents not that hfe pays your debt ; For if the Jenv do cut but deep enough, lUl pay it inftantly with all my heart.

Bajf. Anthonioy I am married to a wife Which is as dear to me as life it felf; But life it felf, my wife, and all the world, . Are not with me elleem'd above thy life. . I would lofe all, ay facrifice them all Here to this devil, to deliver you.*

For, Your wife would give you little thanks for that. If (he were by to hear you make the offer.

Gra, I have a wife whom I protcfl I love, I would Ihe were in heaven, fo. ihe could Intreac fomepow'r to. change this currilh Jr-.f.

Ner. 'Tis well, you offer it behind her back. The wifh would make elfe an unquiet houfe.

Shy. Thefebe thechriftian husbands. Tve axlaughter. Would any of the flock of i?^;vY7Z^^j Had been her husband, rather than a chpiftian ! ^Afide. We trifle time, I'pray thee purfue fcntcrvcc.

6o The Merchant of Vamc^.

For. A pound of that fame merchant's flefh is thine. The court awards it, and the law doth give it. Shy. Moil rightful judge !

For. And you mull cut this flefh from off his breail. The law allows it, and the court awards it.

Shy. Moll learned judge ! afentence: come, prepare.

Par. Tarry a little, there is fomethipgelfe. This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood. The words exprefly are a pound of flefi-i. Then take thy bond, take thou thy pound of ffefh ; But in the cutting it if thou doll fhed One drop of chrillian blood, thy lands and goods Are by the laws of Venice confifcate Unto the flate of Venice,

Gra, O upright judge ! marky^at-, O learned judge ?

Shy. Is that the law .?

For. Thy felf flialt fee the aft : For as thou urgeH juftice, be afTur'd Thou fhalt have juilice, more than thou defir'ft.

Gra. O learned judge ! mark Je^i'^, a learned judge I

Shy, I take this offer then, fay the bond thrice. And let the chriilian go.

Baf, Here is the mohy.

For. The Jen.<o ftiall have all juflice ; foft, no halle> He fhall have nothing but the penalty.

Gra. O Jen^u ! an apright judge, a learned judge \

For. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the fltfli. Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou lefs nor more But jufl a pound of fiefh: if thou tak'll more Or lefs than a juil pound, be't but fo m.uch As makes it light or heavy in the fubfTance, Or- the divifion of the twentieth part Of one poorfcruple; nay, if the kale turn But in the eftimation of a hair, Thou dieft, and all thy goods are confifcate.

Gra. A fecond Daniel, a Daniel, J civ. Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip.

For, Why doth the yeuj paufe ? take the forfeiture.

Shy. Give me my principal, and let me go.

BaJ/^. I have it ready for thee ; here it is.

For. He hath refus'd it in the open court ; He fhall have meerly jufiice and his bond.

Gra.

The Merchant Venice. 6i

Gra. A Daniel iliil fay I, a fecond Daniel! I thank thee, Je^jL), for teaching me that word. /

Shy, Shall I not barely have my principal ?

Por. Thou fhak have nothing but the forfeiiure. To be fo taken at thy peril, Je^j,

Shy. Why then the devil give him good of iti ] lUl ftay no longer queftion.

Por, Tarry, Je-zv. The law hath yet another hold on yoa;: It is enaded in the laws of Venicey, If it be prov'd againft an alien. That by dired or indired attempts He feek the life of any citizen. The party 'gainft the which he doth contrive Shall feize on half his goods, the other half Comes to the privy coffer of the ftate ; And the offender's life lies in the mercy Of the Duke only, 'gainft all other voice : In which predicament I fay thou ftand'ft. For it appears by manifeft proceeding. That iadiredlly, and diredly too, Thou haft contrived againft the very life Of the defendant \ and thou haft incurred The danger formerly by me rehearsed. Down therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke,

Gra* Beg that thou may*ft have leave to hang thy felf;

And yet thy wealth being forfeit to the ftate, Thou haft not left the value of a cordp Therefore thou maft be hang'd at the ftate's charge.

Duke, That thou may'ft fee the difT rence of our fpirit, I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it : For half thy wealth, it is Anthonio\ ; The other half comes to the general ftate. Which humbleneft may drive unto a fine.

Por. Ay for the ftate, not for Anthonio.

Shy, Nay take my life and all, pardon not that. You take my houfe when you do take the prop That doth fuftain my houfe : you take my life When you do take the means whereby I live.

Por. What mercy can you render him^ Anthonio ?

Gra,

€z The Merthant of Venice:

Gra, A \i^\ttr gratis, nothing el fe for God's fake.' -

Ant. So pleafe my lord the Duke, and all the court* • To quit the £ne for one half of his goods, r am content ; fo he will let me have The other half in ufe, to render it Upoa his death unto the gentleman That lately ftole his daughter. Two things provided more, that for this favour He prefently become a chriftian ; The other, that he do record a gift Here in the court, of all he dies poffefs'd. Unto his fon Lorenzo and his daughter.

Duke. He ihall do this, or elfe I do recant The pardon that I late pronounced here.

For. Art thou contented, Je^ f whatdoft thou lay ?

Shy. I am content.

For. Clerk, draw a deed of gift.

Shy. I pray you give me leave to go fron^. hence f I am not well; fend the deed after me. And I will fign it.

Duke. Get thee gone, but do it.

Gra. In chriil'ning thou fhalt have two godfathers. Had I been judge, thou Ihould'il have had ten more, , To bring thee to the gallows, not the font.

[Exit Shylock.

Duke. Sir, I intreat you home with me to dinner.

For, I humbly do defire your Grace of pardon ; I muft away this night to Fadua^ And it is meet I prefently fet forth.

Duke. Tm forry that your leifure fcrves you not, Anthonioy gratify this gentleman. For in my mind you are much bound to him.

\Ex,T>\^^ and his train »:

SCENE III.

^aJT. Moft worthy gentleman ! I and my frknd . Haveoy your wifdom been this day acquitted ©f grievous penalties, in lieu whereof Three thoufand ducats due unto they^ai; We freely cope your courteous pains withaL

Ant. And itand indebted over and above In leve and fervicc to you evermore.

The Merchant Venice. 6i

For, He is wfll paid that is well fatisfy'd, And I delivering you am fatisfy'd. And therein do account my felf well paid ; My mind was never yet more mercenary. I pray you know me when we meet ^gain, I wifh you well, and fo I take my leave.

Ba//". Dear Sir, of force I muft attempt you further. Take fome remembrance of us for a tribute. Not as a fee : grant me two things ; I pray you Not to deny me, and to pardon me.

For. You prefs me far,, and therefore I will yield. Give me your gloves, Fll wear them for your fake. And for your love I'll take this ring from you. i)o not draw back your hand, I'll take no more. And you in love fhall not deny me this.

Baf. This ring, good Sir, alas it is a trifle ; I will not fhame my felf to give you this.

Psr. I will have nothing elfe but only this. And now methinks I have a mind to it.

BaJ\ There's more than this depends upon the value. The deareft ring in Femce will I give you. And find it out by proclamation ; Only for this I pray you pardon me.

For. I fee. Sir, you are liberal in ofFers ; You taught me firll to beg, and now methinks You teach me how a beggar fliouldbe anfwer'd*

Ba//". Good Sir, this ring was giv'n me by my wife. And when fhe put it on, Ihe made me vow That I fliould neither fell;, nor giv«, nor lofe it. ^

Pof\ That 'fcufe ferves many men to fave their gifts ? And if your wife be not a mad woman. And know how well I have deferv'd the ring. She wou'd not hold out enmity for ever Forgiving it to me. Well, peace be with you. [Exitm

Jnth. Kly lord Bajffanio let him have the ring, Let his defervings and nly love withal Be valu'd.'gainll your wile's commandement.

Baff, Go, Gratianoy run and overtake him. Give him the ring, and bring him. if thou caaM Unto Anthonio\ houfe : away, make hafle. \^Exit Craw Coxsie, you ^nd I willUiither prcfemly,

Aud.

1

^4 2"^^ Merchant of Venice.

And in the morning early will we boA Y\yX,0'^2sdL Belmont y come, Anthonio, {Exeunfv .

Enter Portia and Nerifla.

Tor. Enquire theJ^Tt's hcufe out, give him thisdeed. And let him fign it ; we'll away to-night. And be a day before our husbands home : This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.

Enter Gratiano.

Gra> Fair Sir, you are well o'erta'en: My lord Baffanioy upon more advice, Hath fent you here this ring, and doth intre-at Your company at dinner.

P^r. That cannot be. This ring I do accept moll thankfully, And fol pray you tell him: furthermore,. I pray you fliew my Youth old Shyloc/Cs honfe.

Gra. That will I do.

Ner. Sir, I would fpeak with you. ril fee if I can get my husband's ring, [To For-

Which I did make him fwear to keep for ever.

For, Thou may'ft, I warrant. We (hall have old fwcaring,

That they did give the rings away to men ; But we'll out-face them and out-mear them too. Away, make hafte, thou know'H where I will tarrv'. Ner. Come> good Sir, will you fliew me to this houfe ? [Exeunt.

ACT V. S C N E L

BELMONT, Enter Lorenzo and Jeffica. Lorenzo.

TH E moon Ihines bright : In fuch a night as this. When the fweet wind did gently kife the trees^ And they did make no noife ; in fuch a night Troylus methinks mounted the Trojan wall Andfigh'dhi5 foul tow^d the Grecian tents. Wkere Cre£eid lay that ni^ht.

The Merchant ^/Venice. 6 5

Jef. In fuch a night, Did Thisbe iQ2si\A\y o'er-trip the dew. And faw the lion's (hadow ere himfelf. And ran difmay'd away.

Lor. In fuch a night, Stood Dido with a willow in her hand Upcn the wild fea-banks, and waft ker love . To come again to Carthage,

Jef. In fuch a night, Medea gather'd the enchanted htrbs That did renew old JEfon.

Lor. In fuch a night. Did jeffica ileal from the wealthy Jenj:, And wi:h an unthrift love did run from Vtnicey As far as Belmont.

Jef. And in fuch a night. Did youg Lorenzo fwear he lov'd her well. Stealing her foul with many vows of faith. And ne'er a true one.

Lor. And in fuch a night. Did pretty Jefflca (like a little ffirew) Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

Jef I would out-night you, did no body come : But hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter Meffenger.

Lor. Who comes fo fall in filence of the night?

Mcf A friend.

Lor. What friend ? your name; I pray you, friend?

Trief. Stephano is my name,, and I bring word My miftrefs will before the break of day Be here at Bclmoyit: fhe doth llray about By holy erodes, where Ihe kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours.

Lor. Who comes with her \

Mef None but a holy hermit and her maid. I pray you, is my mailer yet return'd ?

Lor. He is not, nor have we ye: heard from him* But go we in, I pray thee, Jejica, And ceremonioufly let us prepare Some welcome for the m.iftreis of the houfe..

Enter Launcelot.

Lann. Sola, fola ; wa ha, ho, fola, fola,

L09:

66 The Merchant of Venice.

Lor. Who calls ?

Laun, Sola, did you fee matter Lorenzo and niiftreft Loren^a ? fola, fola.

Lor. Leave hollowing, man : here. Laun, Sola, where ? where ? Lor, Hefe.

Laun. Tell him there's a poft come from my raa- fter, with his horn full of good news. My mailer Will be here ere morning.

Lor, Sweet love, let's in, and there expeft their coming.

And yet no matter : why fhould We go in ? My friend Stephana, fignifie, I pray you. Within the houfe your miftrefs is at hand, Ap.d bring your mufiek forth into the air.

* How fweet the moon-light fleeps upon this bank i

* Here will we fit, and let the founds of mufick

* Creep in our ears; foft flillnefs, and the night

* Become the touches of fweet harmony.

^ ^> jefficai look h6\v the floor of heav'jft

* Is thick inlay'd with patterns of bright gold 5

* There's not the fmalleft orb which thou behold'ft,

* But in his motion like an angel fings,

* Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims ;

* Such harmony is in immortal fouls ^

* But whilft this muddy vefture of decay?

* Doth grofly clofe us in, we cannot hear it. Come ho, and wake Diana with a hymn. With fweeteft touches pierce your miftrefs' ear. And draw her home with mufick.

Jef. I'm never merry when 1 hear fweet mulicl^ Mufick.

* tor. The reafon is, your fpirits are attentive ;

* For do but note a wild and wanton herd,

' Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

? Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud^

* (Which is the hot condition of their blood)

* If they perchance but hear a trumpet found,

* Or any air of mufick touch their ears,

* You fhall perceive them make a mutual ftand j

* Their favage eyes turn'd to a modeft gaze

^ By the fweet power of mufick. Thijs the Poet

* Did

The Merchant ^/Venice. 6f

^ Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, ftones, and floods 5 ' Since nought fo ilockifh, hard and full cff rage,

* But mufick for the time doth change his nature. ^ I'he man that hath no mufick in himfelf,

* And is not mov'd with concord of fwcet founds^

* Is fit for trcafons, flratagems, and fpoils ;

* the motions of his fpirit are dull as night,

* And his afFedions dark as Erebus :

* Let no fuch jpan be trufted— Mark the mufick.

Enier Portia rf^/^Neriffa

Por, That light we fee is burning in my hall : How far that littk candle throws his beams ! So ihines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner, When the moon Ihone we did not fee the caridt^.

Per. So doth the greater glory dim the Icfs; A fahftitute fhines brightly as a King Until a King be by ; and then his ilate Empties it felf, as doth aiJ inland broofc- Into the main of waters. Mufick, hark ! [A/iw/J^*,

Ner, It is the mufick, madam, of your houfe.

Por. Nothing is good, I fee, without refped : Methinks it founds much fweeter than by day.

Ner, Silence beftows the virtue on it, mad^m,

Por, The crow doth fmg as fweetly as thelark. When neither is attended ; and I think The nightingale, if fhe Ihould fing by day. When every goofe is cackling, would be thought No bctt<?r a mufician than the wren. How many things by feafen feafon'd' are To their right praife and true perfection ^ Peace ! how the moon fleeps with Enditrtwiy And would not be awaked !

Mufick ceafes.

Lor, That is the voice. Or lam much deceived, ciPortta, Por, He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckow. By the bad voice.

Lor, Dear lady, welcome home* Por, We have been praying for our husbands healths,

Which

6$ The Merchant ^/Venice.

Which fpeed, we hope, the better for our worcU, , Are they return'd?

Lor^ Madam, they are not yet ; But there is come a meilenger before. To fignifie their coming.

Per, Go NeriJ/uy Give order to my fervants, that they take No note at all of our being abfent hence. Nor you Lorenzo, J^IP^^ ^^or you.

A tucket founds.

Lor, Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet : We are no tell-tales, madam, fear you not.

For, This night methinks is but the day -light fick ; It looks a little paler j ^tis a day, S^ei as the day is when the fun is hid. Enter Baffanio, Anthonio, Gratiano, and their fol!j^j:ers>

Ba/f, We fhoujd hold day v/ith the Antipdesy If you would walk in abfence of the fun.

Bcr. Let me give light, but let me not be light ; For a light wife doth make a heavy husband. And never be Baffanio fo from me ; j But Gcd fort all : you're welcome home, my lord.

j5^L thank you, madam : give welcome to my friend ? This is the man, this is Anthonioy To whom I am fo infinitely bound.

For, You fhould in all fenfe be much bound to him; For as I hear he was much bound for you.

Anth. No more than I am v/ell acquitted of.

For. Sir, you are very welcome to our houfe ; It muft appear in other ways than words r. Therefore I ^cant this breathing courtefie.

Gra, By yonder moon I fv/ear you do me wrong ; In faith I gave it to the judge's clerk. \fto Ncrifta. Would he were gelt that had it for my part. Since )rou do take it, love, fo much at heart.

Par. A quarrel, hoe, already ! what's the matter ?

Grcti About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring That (he did give me, whofe poefie was For all the world like cutler's poetry Upon a knife ; Lonje me, and lea^e me not,

Ner. What talk you of the poefie or the value ?

You \

The Merchant of Venice/ 69

You fwore to me when I did give it you. That yoa wouM wear it 'till your hour of death. And that it Ihould lie with you in your grave : Tho' not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, You fhould have been refpe6tive, and have kept it. Gave it a Judge's clerk f but well I know The clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that had it* Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. ISer. 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 fcrubbed boy, No higher than thy felf, the Judge's clerk, A prating boy that begg'd it as a fee : I could not for my heart deny it him.

Fcr, You were to blame, \ mull be plain with you 3 To part fo (lightly with your wife's firft gift, A thing ftuck on with oaths upon your finger. And riveted with faith unto your flefh. I gave my love a ring, and made'liim fwear Never to part with it ; and here he ftands, I dare be fworn for him, he would not leave it. Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth That the world mafters. Now in faith, GratianOy You give your wife too unkind a caufe of grief ; An 'twere to me I fhould be mad at it.

Bajf. Why I were beil to cut my left hand off, And fwear I loft the ring defending it.

Gra. My lord Bajjfanio gave his ring away Unto the Judge that begg'd it, and indeed Deferv'd it too ; and then the boy, his cletk. That took fomc pams in writing, he begg'd mine. And neither man nor mafter would take aught But thp two rings.

For. What ring gave you^ my lord ? Not that I hope which you received of me.

B^^JJ^. If I could add a lye unto a fault, I would deny it ; but you fee my finger Hath not the ring upon it, it is gone.

For. Even fo void is your falfe heart of truth. By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed Until I fee the ring.

Ner, Nor I in yours 'cill I again fee mine

BaJ. ^

7^ T^he Merchant ofS^x^^.

Bajf. Sweet Portia, If you did know to whom I gave the ring, If you did know for whom I gave the ring, And. would conceive for what I gave the ring;, And how unwillingly I left the ring. When nought would be accepted but the ring, You would abate the llrength of your difpleafure^

P<^r. If you had known the virtue of the ring. Or half her worthinefs that gave the ring, Or your own honour to retain the ring. You would not then have parted with the ring. What man is there fo much unreafonable. If you had pleasM to have defended it With any terms of zeal, wanted the modefiy To urge the thing held as a ceremony ? Nerija teaches me what to believe ; ni die for't, but fome woman had the ring.

Bajf, No, by miiie honour, madam, by my foul. No woman had it, ^but a civil dodor. Who did refufe three thoufand ducats »f me. And begg'd the ring ; the which I did deny him. And fuifer'd him to go difplcas'd away ; Ev'n he that did upiiold the very lite Of my dear friend. What fhould I fay, fweet lady ? I was enfcrcM to fend it after him : 1 was befet with fliame and courtefie ; My honour would not let ingratitude So much befmcar it. Pardon me, good lady. And by thefe bk ned candles of the night. Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd ' The ring of me to^ive the worthy dodor.

Por. Let not that dodlor e'er come near my houfe. Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd. And that which you did fwear to keep for me : I will become as liberal as you, I'll not deny him any thing I have, No, not my body, nor my husband's bed ; Know him I fhall, I am well fure of it. Lie not a night from home ; watch me like Arusi IF you do not, if I be left alone, ^ow by mine honour, which is yet mire cwn^ rU have that d©6lor fgr my bedfellow.

The Merchant of Venice. 7 1

T^er. And I his clerk ; therefore be well advis'd How you do leave me to mine own protedion.

Gra. Well, do you fo ; let me not take him then ; For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

Afit, I am th' unhappy lubject of cheie quarrels.

For, Sir, grieve not you, you are welcome nofc. withftanding.

Bajf. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong. And in the hearing of thefe many friends, I fwear to thee, cv'n by thine own fair eyes. Wherein I fee my felf— —

For, Mark you but that ! In both mine eyes he doubly fees himfelf, Jn each eye one ; fwear by your double felf. And there's an oath of credit !

BaJf. Nay, but hear me : Pardon this fault, and by my foul I fwear, I never more will break an oath with thee.

j^nt, I once did lend my body for his wealth. Which but for him that had your husband's ring

[To Fortia,

Had quite mifcarry'd. I dare be bound again. My foul upon the forfeit, that your lord Will never more break faith advifedly.

For, Then you fhall be his furety ; give him this. And bid him keep it better than the other.

Ant. Here lord Bajfanioy fwear to keep this ring.

B^JT' By ^eav'ii it is the fame I gave the do£lop.

For, I had it of him : pardon me, Bajfanio ; For by this ring the dodlor lay with me.

Ner,^ And pardon me, my gentle Gratiana^ For that fame fcrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk. In lieu of this, lail night did lie with mc.

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways In fummer, where the ways are fair enough : What, are we cuckolds ere we have deferv'd it?

For. Speak not fo grofly; you are all ama2.*d; Here is a ktter, read it at your leifure ; It comes from Padua from Beslario: There you fliall find that Portia was the doftor, Verijfa there her clerk. Lorcnxjo here, Shall wiaiefs I kt forth as foon as you,

And

72 The Merchant ^/Venice.

And even but now returned : I have not yet EnterM my houfe. Anthonioy you are welcome. And I have better news in flore for you Than you exped ; uRfeal this letter foon. There you fhall find three of your Argofies Are richly come to harbour fuddenly, You fliall not know by what ftrange accident I chanced on this letter. Ant. I am dumb.

Bajf. Were you the do£lor, and I knew you not ?

Gra. Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold r

Ner. Ay, but the clerk' that never means to do it, Unlefs he live until he be a m.an.

BaJf. Sweet dodor, you fhall be my bedfellow ; When I amabfent, then lie with my wife.

Ant. Sweet lady, you have giv'n me life and liv^ing ? For here I read for certain, that my Ihips Are faifely come to road.

For. How now, Lorenzo P My clerk hath fome good comforts too for you.

Ner, Ay, and Til give them him without a fee. There do I give to you and JcJJjca, From the rich Jc^jjy a fpecial deed of gift. After his death, of all he dies poffefsM of

Lor. Fair ladies, you drop Manna in the way Of flarved people.

For. It is almoft morning. And yet Tm fure you are not fatisfy'd Of thefe events at full. Let us go in, And charge us there cn interrogatories. And we will anfwer all things faithfully.

Gra. Let it be fo : the full interrogatory That my Nerijfa fhall be fworn on, is, Whether 'till the next night (he had rather flay. Or go to bed, now being two hours to day. But were the day come, I fhculd wifh it dark, 'Till I were couching with the dodtor's clerk. Well, while I live, ril fear no other thing So fore, as keeping fafe Nrrijas ring.

\^Epceu?Ji cmnes.

FINIS.

i

I