Por. That he hath a neighborly charity in him; for he borrowed a box of the car of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again, when he was able; I think, the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another.

Ner. How like you the young German, the duke of Saxony's nephew?

Por. Very vilely in the morning when he is sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk: when he is best, he is a little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little detter than a beast: and the worst fall that ever fell, I hope, 1 shall make shift to go without hin.

Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the tight casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you should refuse to accept him.

Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket; for, if the devil be within, and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a spunge. Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords, they have acquainted me with their determinations: which is indeed, to return to their hoine, and to trouble you with no more suit; unless you may be won by some other sort than your father's imposition, depending on the caskets.

Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's will: I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable: for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I pray God grant them a fair departure.

Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, that came hither in company of the Marquis of Montferrat? Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassano; as I think, so was he called.

Ner. Truc, madam; he of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady.

Por. I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of thy praise.-How now! what news? Enter a Servant.

Serv. The four strangers seek for you, inadam, to take their leave: and there is a fore-runner come from a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who brings word, the prince, his master, will be here to-night. Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good heart, as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his approach: if he have the condition, of a saint, and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. Come, Nerissa, Sirrah go before. Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door. [Exeunt. SCENE III-Venice. A Public place.

Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK.

Shy. Three thousand ducats,- well.
Bass. Ay, sir, for three months.
Shy. For three months,-well.

Buss. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.

Shy. Antonio shall become bound, - well. Buss. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your answer?

Shy. Three thousand ducats, for three months and Antonio bound.

Bass. Your answer to that.

Shy. Antonio is a good man. Buss. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?

Shy. Ho, no,no, no, no;- my meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient: yet his means are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand moreover upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England,and other ventures he hath, squander'd abroad: But ships are but boards, sailors but men: there be land-rats, and water-rats, water-thieves, and landthieves; I mean, pirates; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks: The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient;-three thousand ducats; -I think I may take his bond.

be assured, I will bethink me: May I speak with Antonio?

Bass. If it please you to dine with us.

Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat or the habitstion which your prophet, the Nazarite conjured the devil into: I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto?-Who is he comes here?

Enter ANTONIO.

Bass. This is signior Antonio.

Shy. Aside.] How like a fawning publican he looks!

I hate him, for he is a Christian :
But more, for that, in low simplicity,
He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance 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 sacred nation; and he ralis,
Even there where merchants most do congregate,
On me, my bargains, and my well won thrat,
Which he calls interest: Cursed be my tribe,
If I forgive him!

Bass.
Shylock, do you hear?
Shy. I am debating of my present store;
And, by the near guess of my memory,
I cannot instantly raise up the gross
of full three thousand ducats: What of that?
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
Will furnish ine: But soft; How many months
Do you desire!-Rest you fair, good signor;

[TO ANTONIO.
Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
Ant. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow
By taking, nor by giving of excess,
Yet to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
I'll break a custom:-Is he yet possess d,"
How much you would?

Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. Ant. And for three months. Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told me so. Well then, your bond; and, let me see,——— But hear you;

Ant.

Methought, you said, you neither lend nor borrow,
Upon advantage.
I do never use it.
Shy. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's
sheep,
This Jacob from our holy Abraham was
(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf)
The third possessor; ay, he was the third.

Ant. And what of him? did he take interest!
Shy. No, not take interest; not, as you would say
Directly interest: mark what Jacob did.
When Laban and himself were compromis'd,
That all the eanlings which were streak d, and pied,
Should fail as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being tank,
In the end of autumn turned to the rains:
And when the work of generation was
Between these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilful shepherd peeld me certain wands,
And in the dong of the deed of kind,
He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes;
Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time
Fall party-color'd lambs, and those were Jacob's
This was the way to thrive, and he was blest;
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.

Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd

for;

A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
But sway'd and fashion'd, by the hand or heaven.
Was this inserted to make interest good!
Or is your gold and silver, ewes and rams?
Shy. I cannot tell: I make it breed as fast:-
But note me, signior.
Mark you this, Bassanio,

Ant.
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul, producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a smiling check:
A goodly apple rotten at the heart,
0, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
Shy. Three thousand ducats,

sum.

Bass. Be assured you may.

Temper, qualities,

. Nature.

Sky. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft,
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my monies, and my usances;
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug;
For suflerance is the badge of all our tribe:
You call me - misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears, you need my help:
Go to then; you come to me, and you say,
Shylock, we would have monies; You say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; monies is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
Holh a dog money? is it possible,

A eur can lend three thousand ducats? or
Sall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness,
Say this,-

Fir sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You call'd me-dog; and for these courtesies
Ill lend you thus much monies?

Ant. I am as like to call thee so again To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. lithou wilt lend this money, lend it not

As to thy friends; (for when did friendship take

A breed for barren metal of his friend?)

But lend it rather to thine enemy;

Who if he break, thou may'st with better face
Exact the penalty.

Shy.
Why, look you, how you storm!
I would be friends with you, and have your love,
Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
Supply your present wants, and take no doit
Of usince for my monies, and you'll not hear me.
This is kind I offer.

Ant. This were kindness. Sky.

This kindness will I show:

Go with me to a notary, seal me there
Your single bond; and, in a merry sport,
If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum, or sums, as are
Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit
Be nominated for an equal pound

Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body pleaseth me.

Ant. Content, in faith; I'll seal to such a bonu And say, there is much kindness in the Jew. Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me I'll rather dwell in my necessity.

Ant. Why, fear not, man: I will not forfeit it; Within these two months, that's a month before This bond expires, I do expect return

Of thrice three times the value of this bond.

Shy. O father Abraham, what these Christians are,
Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this;
If he should break his day, what should I gain
By the exaction of the forfeiture?

A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man,
Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say
To buy his favor, I extend this friendship:
If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;
And, for my love, I pray you, wrong me not.
Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond,
Shy. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;
Give him direction for this merry bond,
And I will go and purse the ducats straight;
See to my house, left in the fearful guard
Of an unthrifty knave; and presently
I will be with you.

Ant.

[Earit

Hie thee, gentle Jew. This Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind. Bass. I like not fair terms, and a villain's mind. Ant. Come on: in this there can be no dismay. My ships come home a month before the day. [Exeuni

Flourish of Cornets. Enter the Prince of Momeco and his Train; PORTIA, NERISSA, and sther of her Attendants.

Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun,
To whom I am a neighbor, and near bred.
Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
And let us make incision for your love,
To prove whose blood is reddest, his, or mine.
1 tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine

Hath fear'd the valiant; by my love, I swear,
The best regarded virgins of our clime

Have love'd it too: I would not change this hue,
Licept to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
Por. In terms of choice I am not solely fed
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes;
Bendes, the lottery of my destiny

Bars me the right of voluntary choosing:

But, if my father had not scanted me,

And hedg'd me by his wit, to yield myself

His wife, who wins me by the means I told you,
Yourself, renownd prince, then stood as fair,
As any comer I have look'd on yet,
For my affection.

Mor.
Even for that I thank you;
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets,
To try my fortune. By this scimitar,-
That slew the Sophy, and a Persian prince,
That won three fields of sultan Solyman,-
I would out-stare the sternest eyes that look,
Put-brave the heart most daring on the earth,
Phock the young sucking cubs from the she bear,
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey,
To win thee, lady: But, alas the while!
If liercules, and Lichas, play at dice

Which is the better man, the greater throw
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand:
So is Alcides beaten by his page;
And so may I, blind fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.

Por.
You must take your chance;
And either not attempt to choose at all,
Or swear, before you choose,-if you choose wrong
Never to speak to lady afterward

In way of marriage; therefore be advis'd.

Mor. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my chance.

Por. First, forward to the temple; after dinner Your hazard shall be made.

to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who God bless the mark!) is a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himseit: Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnation; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to office to counsel me to stay with the Jew: The tiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment, I will run. Enter old GOBBO, with a Basket.

Gob. Master, young man, you, I pray you; which is the way to master Jew's?

Luun. Asite. O heavens, this is my true-begotten father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not:-1 will try conclusions with him.

Gob. Master, young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's!

Laun, Turn up on your right hand, at the next turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house. Gob. By God's sonties, twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him or no?

Laun. Talk you of young master Launcelot ? Mark me now; Aside, now will I raise the waters: -Talk you of young inaster Launcelot?

Gob. No, master, sir, but a poor man's son; his father, though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young master Launcelot.

Gob. Your worship's friend and Launcelot, sir. Laun. But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you; Talk you of young master Launcelot? Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. Laun. Ergo, master Launcelot; talk not of master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman (according to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters three, and such branches of learning,) is indeed deceased; or, as you would say, in plain terms, gone to heaven.

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

Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a staff, or a prop?- Do you know me, father?

Gob. Alack, the day, I know you not, young gentleman; but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, (God rest his soul! alive, or dead?

Laun. Do you not know me, father? Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind, I know you not. Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing of me: it is a wise father, that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son: Give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's son may; but, in the end, truth will

Gob. I cannot think you are my son. Laun. I know not what I shall think of that: but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man; and, I am sure, Margery, your wife, is my mother.

Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipp'd might he be! what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin, my thi:l-horses has on his tail.

Laun. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am sure he had more hair on his tail, than I have on my face, when I last saw him. Gob. Lord how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present; How 'gree you now?

Laun. Well, well: but for mine own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground: my master's a very Jew: Give him a present! give him a halter: I am famish'd in his service; you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are rome; give me you present to one master BassaShaft-horse. • Experiments.

nio, who indeed, gives rare new liveries; if I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. O rare fortune! here comes the man;-to him. fither, for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO, and other Followers.

Bass. You may do so;-but let it be so hasted, that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock: See these letters deliver d; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to cone anon to my lodging. [Exit a servant.

Laun. To him, father.

Gob. God bless your worship!

Buss. Gramercy; Wouldst thou aught with me! Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,

Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man; that would, sir, as my father shall specify,Gob. Hath he a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve

Laun. Indeed the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and I have a desire, as my father shall specify,

Gob. His master and he, (saving your worship's reverence,) are scarce cater-cousins:

Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being I hope an old man, shall frutify unto

you,

Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would bestow upon your worship; and my suit is,

Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say it, though an old man, yet, poor man, my father.

Bass. One speak for both;-What would you? Luun. Serve you, sir.

suit:

Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, sir. Bass. I know thee well, thou hast obtain'd thy Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment, To leave a rich Jew's service, to become The follower of so poor a gentleman. Laun. The old proverb is very well parted be tween my master Shylock and you, sir; you have the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough. Buss. Thou speak'st it well: Go, father, with thy son:Take leave of the old master and enquire My lodging out:-Give him a livery

To his Followers

More guarded' than his fellows: See it done.

Laun. Father, in:-1 cannot get a service, no, have ne'er a 'tongue in my head.-Well; ing on his palm.] if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon a book. I shall have good fortune; Go to, here's a simple lire of life! here's a small trifle of wives: Alas, fifcell wives is nothing; eleven widows, and nine maids, is a simple coming in for one man: and then, to scape drowning thrice; and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed;-here are simple 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear. Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.

[Exeuni LAUNCELOT and old GOBBO. These things being bought, and orderly bestow d Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this; Return in haste, for I do feast to-night My best-esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go Leon. My best endeavors shall be done herein. Enter GRATIANO. Gra. Where is your master? Leon.

Gra. Signior Bassanio,Bass. Gratiano!

Gra. I have a suit to you. Bass.

Yonder, sir, he walks. Exit LEONARD9.

You have obtain lit. Gra. You must not deny me; I must go with you to Belmont.

Bass. Why, then you must;-But hear thee,
Gratiano;

Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice-
Parts, that become thee happily enough,
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;
Ornamented.

The palm of the han ext adel

But where thou art not known, why, there they show
Something too liberal; -pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild be-
havior,

I be misconstrued in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.
Gra.

Signior Bassanio, hear me : I do not put on a sober habit,

Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely;
May more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say, amen;
Use all the observance of civility,

Like one well studied in a sad ostent

To please his grandam, never trust me more.
Bass. Well, we shall see your bearing."

Gru. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not gage me

By what we do to-night.

Bass.

No, that were pity; I would entreat you rather to put on Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends That purpose merriment: But fare you well, I have soine business.

[Exeunt.

Gra. And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest;
But we will visit you at supper-time.
SCENE III-A Room in Shylock's House.

Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT.

Jes. I am sorry, thou wilt leave my father so;
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
Dilst rob it of some taste of tediousness:
But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee.
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest:
Give him this letter; do it secretly,

And so farewell; I would not have my father
See me talk with thee.

Laun. Adieu-tears exhibit my tongue,-
Most beautiful pagan,-most sweet Jew! If a
Christian do not play the knave, and get thee, I
am much deceiv'd: But, adieu! these foolish drops
somewhat drown my manly spirit; acieu! Exit.
Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot.—
Alick, what heinous sin it is in me
To be ashamed to be my father's child!
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners: 0 Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife;
Become a Christian, and thy loving wite.
SCENE IV.-A Street.

Enter

[Exit.

Enter LAUNCELOT, with a Letter.

Friend Launcelot, what's the news? Laun. And it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify. Lor. I know the hand in faith, 'tis a fair hand; And whiter than the paper it writ on, Is the fair hand that writ. Gra. Love-news, in faith.

Laun. By your leave, sir.
Lor. Whither goest thou;
Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew
to sup to-night with my new master the Christian.
Lor. Hold here, take this:-tell gentle Jessica,
I will not fail her;-speak it privately; go.-
Gentlemen,
[Exit LAUNCELOT.
W you prepare you for this masque to-night?
I am provided of a torch-bearer.

Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
Salan. And so will I.
Lor.

Meet me, and Gratiano,
Al Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.
Licentious.
1 Show of staid and serious demeanor.

• Carriage, deportment.

Salar. 'Tis good we do so,

Ex unt SALAR. and SALAN Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica ? Lor. I must needs tell thee all: She hath directed, How I shall take her from her father's house; What gold, and jewels, she is furnish'd with; What page's suit she hath in readiness. If e'er the Jew, her father, come to heaven, It will be for his gentle daughter's sake: And never dare misfortune cross her foot, Unless she do it under this excuse,That she is issue to a faithless Jew. Come, go with me; peruse this, as thou goest : Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt.

SCENE V-Before Shylock's House.
Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT.
Shy, Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy
judge,

The difference of old shylock and Bassanio:-
What, Jessica !-thou shalt not gormandize,,
As thou hast done with me :-What, Jessica!-
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out :-
Why, Jessica, I say!

Laun.

Why, Jessica!

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

Enter JESSICA.

Jes. Call you? What is your will?

Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica;
There are my keys :-But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon

The prodigal Christian.-Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house :-I am right loath to go;
There is some ill a brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Laun. I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach.

Shy, So do I his.

Luun. And they have conspired together,-I will not say, you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on Black-Monday last, at six o'clock the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year in the afternoon,

Shy. What! are there masques? Hear you me,

Jessica:

Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum,
And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street,
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces:
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements;
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house,-By Jacob's staff, I swear
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
But I will go.-Go you before me, surah;
Say, I will come.

Luun.
I will go before, sir.-
Mistress, look out at window, for all this;
There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jewess' eye. Exit LAUN.
Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring,
ha?

Jes. His words were, Farewell mistress; nothing else.

Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder,
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
More than the wild-cat; drones hive not with me;
Therefore I part with him; and part with him
To one that I would have him help to waste
His borrow'd purse.-Well, Jessica, go in ;
Perhaps, I will return immediately;
Do, as I bid you,

Shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
Jes. Farewell: and if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

SCENE VI-The same.

\Exit.

[Exit.

Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masked. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Desir'd us to make stand.

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

"Invited.