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11 your ladysbip would say, Thanks, Pompey, I
Dum. For the latter end of his načac. nad done.
Birun. For the ass to the Jude; give it hja, Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.
Jud-as, away. Cost. 'Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, I was Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble perfect; I made a little tauit in great.
boyit. A hytt for Monsieur Judas: it grows Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves
dark, he may stumble. the best worthy.
Prin. Alas, poor Machabæus, how hath he beer
baited! Enter NATHANIEL armid, for Alexander.
[Exit HOLOPERNES Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander,
Enter ARMADO arm'd, for Hector. By easi, west, north, und south, I spread my con
Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes quering might: My'scutcheon piuin declares, that I am Alisander. Hector in arms. Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it
Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, I stands too right.
will now be merry. Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this, most tender
King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this smelling knight.
Boyet. But is this Hector? Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good
Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean-timber'd. Alexander.
Long. His leg is too big for Hector. Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the
Dumi. More calt, certam. world's commander;
Boyet. No; he is best indued in the small. Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Ali
Biron, This cannot be Hector. sander.
Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces, Biron, Poinpey the great,
Arm. The armipotent Murs, of lances the al Coal. Tour servant, and Costard.
mighty, Buron. Take away the conqueror, lake away Ali- | Gave Hector a gift,sander.
Dum. A gilt nulmeg.
Biron. A lemon.
Long. Stuck with cloves.
Duin. No, cloven. of the painted cloth for this: your lion, thai holds Dis poli-ax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to the armipotent Mars, of lonces the almighty,
Arm. Peace! A-jax, he will be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afcared to speak! run away for shame, Alisan
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of lim; der. aru, retires). There, an't shall please you; A man so treathi, that certuin he would fisht, yea, a 100lish mild man; an honest man, look you, and
From morn till night, out of his puvilivit. son dashu! He is a marvellous good neighbor,
I am that fwwer, --
That columbine. - a little o'erparted :
Arni. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. But there are worthies a coming will speak their mind in some other sort.
Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs Prun. Stand aside, good Pompey.
Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound. Enter HOLOFERNES arnid, and Mori arm’d, for Arm. The sweet war-man is dead and rotten, Hercules.
sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried.
when he breath'd, he was a man.-But I will forHol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp; ward with my device: Sweet royalty, To the PrinW rose club kill'd Cerberus that three headed cess) bestow on me the sense or hearing.
canus; And when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,
(BIRon whispers CostaRD. Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus: Prin. Speak, brave Hector ; we are much de Quoniam, he seemeth in minority;
lighted. Ergo, I come with this a powgy.
Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper. Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish.
Boyet. Loves her by the foot.
[Exit Moty. Duin. He may not by the yard. Hol. Judas I ani,
Arm. This Héctor far surmounted Hannibal. Dum. A Judas!
Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is Hul. Not Iscariot, sir.
gone ; she is two months on her way. Judas I am, ycleped Machabæus.
Arm. What meanest thou ? D'um. Judas Machabæus clipt, is plain Judas. Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, Biron. A kissing traitor :-how art thou prov'd the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the Judas?
child brags in her belly already; 'tis yours. Hol. Judus Ianı,
Arm. Dost thou iniamonize me among potenDum. The more shame for you, Judas.
tates? thou shalt die. HOL What mean you, sir?
Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd, for JacqueBoyet. To make Judas hang himself.
netti that is quick by him; and hangeu, i'r PomHl. Begin, sir; you are my elder.
pey that is dead by him. Biron. Well follow'd: Judas was hang'd on an Dum. Most rare Pompey! elder.
Boyet. Renowned Pompey! Hol. I will not be put out of countenance.
Bion. Greater than great, great, great, great Biron. Because thou hast no face.
Pompey! Pompey the huge! Hos What is this?
Dum. Hector trembles. Bouet. A c:ttern head.
Biron. Pompey is mov'd :-More Ates,& more Dlm. The head of a bodkin.
Ales; stir them on! stir them on! Biron. A death's face in a ring.
Dhim. Hector will challenge him. Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's
belly than will sup a tlea. Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion. Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. D'in. The carv'd bone face on a task.
Cust. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern Birn, St. George's half-cheek in a brooch. man; I'll slash; l'll do it by the sword:-1 pray D'in. Ay, in a brooch of lead.
you, let me borrow my arms again. Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth- Dum. Room for the incensed worthies, drawer :
Cost. I'll do it in my shirt. And now, forward; for we have put thee in coun
Dum. Most resoluté Pompey! tenance.
Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole Hol. You have put me out of countenance. lower. Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for Biron. False; we have given thee faces.
the combat? What mean you ? you will lose your Hol. But you have outfaced thein all.
reputation. Birn. An thou wert a lion, we would do so. Arm. Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me: I Buruet. Therefore, as he is an ass, let him go. will not combat in my shirt. And so, adieu, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay?
• Ato was the goddess of discord.
Dum. You may not deny it: Pompey bath Ros.
We did not quote them so made the challenge.
King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.
Grant us your loves. Biron. What reason have you for t?
A time, methinks, too shor Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt. To make a world-without-end bargain in : I go woolward: for penance.
No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much. Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome Full of dear guiltiness; and therefore this, tor want of linen: since when, I'll be sworn, he If for iny love (as there is no such cause) wore none, but a dist-clout of Jacquenetta's and You will do auyht, this shall you do for me: that 'a wears next his heart for a favor.
Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed
To some forlorn and naked hermitage,
Remote from all the pleasures of the world ;
There stuy, until the twelve celestial signs Prin. Welcome, Mercade;
Have brought about their annual reckoning ;
If this auslere insociable life But that thou interruptst our merriment.
Mer. I am sorry, wadam; for the news ! bring, Change not your offer made in heat of blood; Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father
Ii frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weers, Prin. Dead, for my life.
Nip noi the gaudy blossoms of your love,
But that it bear this trial, and last love ; Mer. Even so; my tale is told.
Biron. Worthies, away; the scene begins to Then, at the expiration of the year, cloud.
Come challenge, challenge me by these deserts, Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: nd, by this virgin palm, now kissing thine, I have seen the day of wrong through the little 1 will be thine ; and, till that instant, shut hole of discretion, and I will right myseli like a My woeful selt up in a mourning house ; soldier.
Exeunt Worthies. Raining the tears of lamentation, king. How fares your majesty ?
For the remembrance of my father's death.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part ;
Neither intitled in the other s heart.
king. If this, or more than this, I would den),
To tlatter up these powers of mine with rest, For all your fair endeavors; and entreat,
The sudden hånd of dealni close up mine eye! Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
Hence ever then my heart is in ihy breast. In your richi wisdom, to excuse or hide,
Biron. And what to me, my love and what to Toe liberale opposition of our spirits: If over-boldly we have borne ourselves
Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rank: In the converse of breath, your gentleness
You are attaint with faults and perjury ; Was guilty of it.--Farewell, worthy lord!
Therefore, if you my favor mean to get, A heavy heart bears not an humbie tongue:
A twelvemonth you shall spend, and never rest, Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks
But seek the weary beds of people sick. For my great suit so easily obtain'd.
Dum. But what to me, my ove! but what to me? King. The extreme parts of time extrelmey form
Kuth. A wife !-A beurd, fair health, and bioAll causes to the purpose of his speed;
nesty ; And often, at his very loose, decides
With three-fold love I wish you all these three. That which long process could not arbitrate:
Dum. V, shall I say, I wank you, gentle wile? And though the mourning brow of progeny
Kuth. Not so, my lord ;-a twelvemonth and a day Fo bid the smiling courtesy of love,
I'll mark no words that smooth-faced wovers say:
Come when the king doth to my lady come,
Then, if I nave much love, I'll give you soine.
Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully will then. From what it purpos'); since, to wail friends lost,
Kath. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again. Is not by much so wholesome, profitable,
Long. What says Maria!
Mar. As to rejoice at friends but newly found.
At the twelvemonth's end, Prin. I understand you not; my griefs are double. Tll change my black gown for a faithful friend. Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of
Long. I'fl stay with patience; but the tune is long. grief;
Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young. And by these badges understand the king.
Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on ine. For your fair sakes have we neglected time,
Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty', ladies, What humble suit attends thy answer there; Hath much deform'd us, fashioning our humors
Impose some service on me for thy love. Even to the opposed end of our intents :
Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón, And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,
Before I saw you : and the world's large tongue As love is full of unbefitting strains :
Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks ; All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain :
Full of comparisons and wounding tlouts ; Form'd by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye,
Which you on all estates will execute, Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms,
That lie within the mercy of your wit: Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll
To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain, To every varied object in his glance :
And, therewithal, to win me, if you please, Which party-coated presence of loose love
(Without the which I am not to be won.) Put on by us, if, in your heavenly eyes,
You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day
Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
With all the fierce endeavor of your wit
To enforce the pained impotent to smile. Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove faise,
Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of By being once false for ever to be true
death ? To those that make us both,-air ladies, you :
It cannot be; it is impossible: And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,
Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.
Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing sit
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools
A jest s prosperity lies in the ear At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,
of him that lears it, never in the tongue As bombast, and as lining to the time :
Of him that makes it : then if sickly years.
Dear d with the calinors of their own dear groupe
And I will have you, and that fault withal; Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much more But, if they will not, throw away that spiri', than jest.
And I shall find you empty of that fauli, Long. So did our looks.
Right joyful of your reformation. Clothed in wool, without linen, • Free to excess. • Regard.
Mocks married men, for thus sings he,
Biron. A twelvemonth? well, befal what will
betal, I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. Prin. Ay, sweet my lord: and so I take my leave.
To the King. King. No, nadam: we will bring you on your
way. Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play ; Jack hath not Jill : these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy: King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a
day, And then twill end. buon.
That's too long for a play.
Enter ARMADO. Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,Prin. Was not that Hector ? Dum. The worthy knight of Troy. Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger and take leave: Tam a votary ; I have vowed to Jacquenetta to hold Wie plough for her sweet love three years. But, m ist esteemed greatness, will you hear the dialogue that the two learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and the cuckoo ? It should have followed in the end of our show.
King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so. Arn. Holla! approach. Enter HOLOFERNES, NATHANIEL, Mori, Cos
TARD, and others. This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the spring ; the one maintain’d by the owl, the other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin.
And lady smocks all silver-white,
Do paint the meadows with delight,
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks
And maidens bleach their summer smocks.
And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
And milk comes frozen home in pail,
And coughing drowns the parson's saw. and birds sit broodling in the snow,
And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You that way; we, this way.
• Wild apples.
MERCHANT OF VENICE.
PERSONS REPRESENTED. DUKE OF VENICE.
Old GoB Bo, Father to Launcelot. PRINCE OF Morocco, } Suitors to Portia.
SALERIO, a Messenger from Venice.
LEONARDO, Servani to Bassanio.
BALTHAZAR, }s.rvants to Portia.
Portia, a rich Heiress.
Nerissa, her Wuiting-Maid.
Jessica, Daughter to Shylock.
Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of LAUNCELOT GoB Bo, a Clown, Servant to Shylock. Justice, Guoler, Servants and other Attendants.
SCENE, partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia, on the Continent.
SCENE I.–Venice. A Street.
Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy
For you, to laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry, Enter Antonio, Salarino, und Salinio.
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed
Janus, Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad;
Nature hath framed strange fellows in her tine: ir wearies me; you say it wearies you;
Some that will everinore peep through their eyes,
And others of such vinegar aspect,
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile,
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughter.
Enter Bassan10, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. There, where your argosies' with portly sail, -- Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your last noble Like signiors and rich burghers of the ilood,
kinsman, Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,
Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well; Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
We leave you now with better company. That curt'sy to them, do them reverence,
Satur. I would have staid till I had made you As they fly by them with their woven wings.
merry, Satun. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, If worthier friends had not prevented me. The better part of my affections would
Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still I take it, your own business calls on you, Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind; And you embrace the occasion to depart. Peering in maps, for ports, and piers, and roads; Salur. Good morrow, my good lords. And every object, that might make me fear
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Say, when ? Would make me sad.
You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so ? Sular.
My wing, cooling my broth, Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. Would blow me to an agve, when I thought
| Exeunt SALARINO and SALANTO. What harm a wind too great might do at sea. Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,
Antonio, But I should think of shallows and of flats;
We two will leave you: but, at dinner-time, And see my wealthy Andrew dock d in sand. I pray you, have in mind where we must meet Vailing? her high-top lower than her ribs,
Bass, I will not fail you. To kiss her burial. Should I go to church,
Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; And see the holy edifice of stones,
You have too much respect upon the world: And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks? They lose it, that do buy it with much care. Which touching but my gentle vessel's side Believe me, you are marvellously chang d. Would scatter all her spices on the stream;
Ant I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks;
A stage where every man must play a part, And, in a word, but even now worth this,
And mine a sad one. And now worth nothing! Shall I have the thought Gra.
Let me play the Fool: To think on this; and shall I Jack the thought, With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; That such a thing, bechauc’d, would make me sad? And let my liver rather heat with wine, But, tell not me; I know, Antonio
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Is sad to think upon his querchandize.
Why should a man, whose blood is warm withis. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ? My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio. Upon the fortune of this present year:
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks; Therefore, my merchandize makes me not sad. There are a sort of men, whose visages Salan. Why then you are in love.
Do cream and mantle, like a standing ponil; Ant.
Fye, fye! And do a wilful stillness: entertain, Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say, you With purpose to be dress d in an opinijn are sad,
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; · Ships of large burden.
* Obstinate silence.
As who should say, I am sir Oracle,
To raise a present sum: therefore go forth,
Try what my credit can in Venice do;
That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost,
To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.
Go, presently inquire, and so will I,
SCENE II. — Belmont. A Room in Portia's Hour.
Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.
a-weary of this great world.
fortunes are: And yet, for aught I see, they are as Gra. Well, keep me company, but two years more, sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. with nothing: It is no mean happiness, therefore, Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner Gra. Thanks, i faith; for silence is only com- by white hairs, but competency lives longer. mendable
Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
Ner. They would be better, it well followed. Exeunt GRATIASO and LORENZO. Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were Ant. Is that any thing now?
good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor Bus. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, men's cottages, princes' palaces. It is a good dimore than any man in all Venice: His reasons are vine that follows his own instructions: I can easier as two krains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; teach twenty what were good to be done, than be you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when one of the twenty to foliow mine own teaching. you have them, they are not worth the search. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot
Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is this same temper leaps over a cod decree: sucli a hare is
madness the youth, to skip oe'r the meshes of good That you lo-day promis'd to tell me oi ?'
counsel the cripple. Bui this reasoning is not in Buss. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, the fashion to choose me a husband :-( me, the How inuch I have disabled mine estate,
word choose! I may neither choose whom I would, Ky something showing a more swelling port nur refuse whom dislike; so is the will of a live Than ing tuint means would grant continuance: iny daughter cuib'd by the will of a dead father :Nor do I now make moan to be abridy'd
Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, From such a noble rate ; but my chief care
nor refuse none. Is to come fairly ofl' from the great debts,
Ner. Your father was ever virtuous: and holy Wherein my uime, something loo prodigal,
men, at their death, have good inspirations; thereHath leit me gayed: To you, Antonio,
fore, the lottery that he hath devised in these three I owe the most, in money, and in love;
chests of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who chooses And from your love I have a warranty
his meaniny, chooses you,) will, no doubt, never be To unburtien all my plots, and purposes,
chosen by any rightly, but one who you shall rightHow to get clear at all the debts I owe.
ly love. But what warmth is there in your allection Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; towards any of these princely suitors that are And, if it stand, as you yourselt still do,
already come? Within the eye of honor, be assured,
Por. I pray thee over-name them; and as thou
to my description, level at my ailection.
Por. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth noth-
mother, played false with a smith.
Ner. Then, is there the county* Palatine.
Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who should
say, An if you will not have nt, choose; he hears Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, merry tales, and smiles not: I fear he will prove As I will watch the ain, or to find both,
the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being Or bring your latter hazard back again,
so full of unmanneriy sadness in his youth. Thad And thankfully rest debtor for the tirst.
rather be inarried to a death's head with a bone in Ant. You know me well; and herein spend but his mouth than to either of these. God de fend me time,
from these two! To wind about my love with circumstance; Ner. How say you by the French lord, monsieur And, out of doubt, you do me now inore wrong, Le Bon ? la making question of my utterinost,
Por. God made him, and therefore, let him pass Than if you had made waste of all I have:
for a man.
In truth, I know it is a sin to be a Then do but say to me what I should do,
mocker: But, he! why, he hath a horse better than That in your knowledge may by me be done, the Neapolitan's; a better bad habit of fiowniny And I am presto unto it: therefore speak.
than the count Palatine: he is every man in no Base. In Belmont is a lady richly lett,
man: if a throstle sing, he fails straight a capering; And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,
he will fence with his own shadow: If I should Of wond'rous virtues; sometiines from her eyes marry him, I should marry twenty husbands : 11 I did receive fair speechless messages:
he would despise me, I would forgive bim; for if Her arame is Portia : nothing undervalued
he love me tu madness, I shall never requite him. To Calo's daughter, Brutus Portia.
Ner. What say you then to Faulconbridge, the
young baron of England?
Por. You know I say nothing to him; for he un. Renowned suitors: and her sunny locks
derstands not me, nor I him: he hath neither LaHins on her temples like a golden fleece; tin, French, nor Italian, and you will come into Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' strand, the court and swear, that I have a poor pennyworth And many Jasons come in quest of her.
in the English. He is a proper man's picture; But, O my Antonio, hau! but the means
alas! who can converse with a dumb show? How To bold a rival place with one of them,
oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet have a mind presages me such thrift,
in lialy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in That I should questionless be fortunato.
Germany, and his behavior every where.
neighbor ? • Pearly. • Formerly.