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SCENE II. Belmont.

Enter Baffanio, Portia, Gratiano, and Attendants.
The Caskets are fet out.

Por. I pray you tarry, pause a Day or two
Before you hazard; for in chufing wrong
I lofe your Company; therefore forbear a while,
There's fomething tells me, but it is not Love,
I would not lofe you, and you know your felf,
Hate counfels not in fuch a Quality.

But left you should not understand me well,
And yet a Maiden hath no Tongue but Thought,
I would detain you here fome Month or two,
Before you venture for me. I could teach you
How to chufe right, but then I am forfworn;
So will I never be, fo may you miss me;
But if you do, you'll make me wish a Sin,
That I had been forfworn. Befhrew your Eyes,
They have o'er-look'd me, and divided me;
One half of me is yours, the other half

Mine own, I would fay: But firft mine, then yours;
And fo all yours. O thefe naughty Times
Puts Bars between the Owners and their Rights:
And fo tho' yours, not yours, prove it so,
Let Fortune go to Hell for it, not I.

I fpeak too long, but 'tis to poize the Time,
To eche it, and draw it out in Length,
To stay you from Election.

Baff. Let me chufe;

For as I am I live upon the Rack.

Por. Upon the Rack, Bassanio, then confefs
What Treafon there is mingled with your Love.
Baff. None but that ugly Treafon of Miftruft,
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my Love:
There may as well be Amity and Life,
'Tween Snow and Fire, as Treafon and my Love.
Por. Ay, but I fear you speak upon the Rack,
Where Men enforced do fpeak any thing.
Baff. Promise me Life, and I'll confefs the Truth.
Por. Well then, confefs and live.

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Baff. Confefs and Love,

Had been the very Sum of my Confeffion.
O 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 lockt in one of them;
If you do love me, you will find me out.
Neriffa, and the reft, ftand all aloof,

Let Mufick found while he doth make his Choice;
Then if he lose, he makes a Swan-like end,
Fading in Mufick. That the Comparison

May stand more proper, my Eye fhall be the Stream
And watry Death-bed for him: He may win,
And what is Mufick then? Then Mufick is
Even as the Flourish, when true Subjects bow
To a new crowned Monarch: Such it is,
As are those dulcet Sounds in break of Day,
That creep into the dreaming Bridegroom's Ear,
And fummon him to Marriage. Now he
goes
With no lefs Prefence, but with much more Love
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem
The Virgin-tribute, paid by howling Troy
To the Sea-monfter: I ftand for Sacrifice;
The reft aloof are the Dardanian Wives,
With bleared Vifages come forth to view
The Iffue of th' Exploit. Go Hercules,
Live thou, I live, with much, much more Dismay
I view the Fight, than thou that mak❜ft the Fray.

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[Mufick within. A Song whilft Baffanio comments on the Caskets to himself.

Tell me where is Fancy bred,

Or in the Heart, or in the Head:
How begot, how nourished?
It is engendred in the Eyes,
With Gazing fed, and Fancy dies
In the Cradle where it lyes:
Let us all ring Fancy's Knell.
I'll begin it.

Ding, dong, Bell.

All. Ding, dong, Bell.

Baff.

Baff. So may the outward Shows be leaft themselves.

The World is ftill deceiv'd with Ornament.

In Law what Plea fo tainted and corrupt,
But being feafon'd with a gracious Voice,
Obfcures the Show of Evil? In Religion
What damned Error, but fome fober Brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a Text,
Hiding the Groffness with fair Ornament?
There is no Vice fo fimple, but affumes
Some Mark of Virtue on his outward Parts ;
How many Cowards, whofe Hearts are all as false
As Stairs of Sand, wear yet upon their Chins
The Beards of Hercules and frowning Mars?
Who inward fearcht, have Livers white as Milk,
And these affume but Valour's Excrement,
To render them redoubted. Look on Beauty,
And you fhall fee 'tis purchas'd by the Weight,
Which therein works a Miracle in Nature,
Making them lighteft that wear most of it:
So are those crifped fnaky golden Locks

Which makes fuch wanton Gambols with the Wind
Upon fuppofed Fairnefs, often known

To be the dowry of a fecond Head;

The Scull that bred them in the Sepulcher.
Thus Ornament is but the gilded Shore

To a moft dangerous Sea; the beauteous Scarf
Veiling an Indian Beauty; in a Word,

The feeming Truth which cunning Times put on
To entrap the Wifeft. Therefore, thou gaudy Gold,
Hard Food for Midas, I will none of thee,

Nor none of thee, thou pale and common Drudge
'Tween Man and Man; but thou, thou meager Lead,
Which rather threatneft than doft promife ought;
Thy Paleness moves me more than Eloquence,
And here chufe I, Joy be the Confequence.
Por. How all the other Paffions fleet to Air,
As doubtful Thoughts, and rafh embrac'd Despair,
And fhuddring Fear, and green-ey'd Jealoufie.
O Love be moderate, allay thy Extafie;
In measure rain thy Joy, fcant this Excefs,
I feel too much thy Bleffing, make it lefs,
VOL. II.

H

For

[Opening the leaden Casket.

For fear I furfeit.

Ball. What find I here?

Fair Portia's Counterfeit. What Demy-God
Hath come fo near Creation? Move these Eyes?
Or whether riding on the Balls of mine

Seem they in Motion? Here are fever'd Lips
Parted with Sugar Breath; fo fweet a Bar
Should funder fuch fweet Friends: Here in her Hairs
The Painter plays the Spider, and hath woven
A golden Mesh t' intrap the Hearts of Men
Fafter than Gnats in Cobwebs: But her Eyes,
How could he fee to do them? Having made one,
Methinks it fhould have Power to fteal both his,
And leave it felf unfinish'd: Yet look how far.
The Subftance of my Praife doth wrong this Shadow
In underprifing it; fo far this Shadow

Doth limp behind the Subftance. Here's the Scrowl,
The Continent and Summary of my Fortune.

You that chufe not by the View,
Chance as fair, and chufe as true:
Since this Fortune falls to you,
Be content, and feek no new.
If you be well pleafed with this,

And hold your Fortune for your Bliss,
where your Lady is,

Turn you

And claim her with a loving Kifs.

A gentle Scrowl; Fair Lady, by your Leave, [Kiffing her. I come by Note to give, and to receive.

Like one of two contending in a Prize,

That thinks he hath done well in Peoples Eyes;

Hearing Applause and universal Shout,

Giddy in Spirit, ftill gazing in a Doubt,
Whether those Peals of Praise be his or no;

So thrice fair Lady ftand I even fo,
As doubtful whether what I fee be true,
Until confirm'd, fign'd, ratify'd by you.

Por. You fee, my Lord Baffanio, where I ftand,
Such as I am; tho' for my felf alone,

I would not be ambitious in my Wish,

Το

1

To wish my self much better; yet for you,
I would be trebled twenty Times my felf,

A thousand times more fair, ten thousand Times
More rich, that to ftand high in your Account,
I might in Virtues, Beauties, Livings, Friends,
Exceed Account; but the full Sum of me
Is Sum of nothing; which to term in grofs,
Is an unleffon'd Girl, unfchool'd, unpractis'd:
Happy in this, he is not yet fo old

But she may learn; happier then in this,
She is not bred fo dull but fhe can learn;
Happiest of all is, that her gentle Spirit
Commits it felf to yours to be directed,
As from her Lord, her Governor, her King,
My felf, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted. But now I was the Lady
Of this fair Manfion, Mistress of my Servants,
Queen o'er my felf, and even now; but now
This Houfe, thefe Servants, and this fame my felf
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.

Baff. Madam, you have bereft me of all Words,
Only my Blood fpeaks to you in my Veins,
And there is fuch Confufion in my Powers,
As after fome Oration fairly spoke
By a beloved Prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleafed Multitude,
Where every fomething being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, fave of Joy
Expreft, and not expreft; but when this Ring
Parts from this Finger, then parts Life from hence;
O then be bold to fay, Baffanio's dead.

Ner. My Lord and Lady, it is now our time,
That have ftood by, and feen our Wishes profper,
To cry Good Joy, good Joy, my Lord and Lady.
Gra. My Lord Baffanio, and my gentle Lady,
I wish you all the Joy that you can wish;
For I am fure you can with none from me:
And when your Honours mean to folemnize

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