ACT II.

SCENE I. Belmont.

A Room in PORTIA'S House.

Flourish of Cornets.

Enter the Prince of Morocco,

and his Train; PORTIA, NERISSA, and other of
her Attendants.

Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun,
To whom I am a neighbour, 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.
I 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 lov'd it too. I would not change this hue,
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes:
Besides, 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 that means I told you,

To understand how the tawny prince, whose savage dignity is well supported, means to recommend himself by this challenge, it must be remembered that red blood is a traditionary sign of courage. Thus Macbeth calls one of his frighted soldiers a lily liver'd boy; again, in this play, cowards are said to have livers as white as milk; and an effeminate man is termed a milksop

That is, terrified.

Yourself, renowned 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,
Out-brave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck 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 Hercules 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.

Mor. Good fortune then! [Cornets To make me blest, or cursed'st among men.

[Exeunt

SCENE II. Venice. A Street.

Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO.'

Laun. Certainly, my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew, my master: The fiend is at mine elbow, and tempts me, saying to me, "Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away: My conscience says, "No; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo;" or, as aforesaid, "honest Launcelot Gobbo; do not run; scorn running with thy heels." Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack; "Via!" says the fiend; "away! says the fiend; "for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind," says the fiend, "and run." Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, - "My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son," - or rather an honest woman's son; for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste : -well, my conscience says, "Launcelot, budge not." 66 Budge," says the fiend; "budge not," says my conscience: Conscience, say I, you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well: to be rul'd 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 rul'd by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the

The old copies read,- Enter the Clown alone; and throughout the play this character is called the Clown at most of his

entrances or exits.

For the heavens was merely a petty oath. To make the fiend conjure Launcelot to do a thing for heaven's sake, is a specimen of that acute nonsense" which Barrow makes one of the species of wit, and which Shakespeare was sometimes very fond of.

devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnation; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew: The fiend 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 is the way to master Jew's?

pray you, which

Laun. [Aside.] O heavens! this is my true begotten father, who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not: I will try confusions with him.3

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 ? — [Aside.] Mark me now; now will I raise the wa-[To him.] Talk you of young master Laun

ters: celot ?

-

Gob No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his

3 That is. I will try to confuse, perplex him, by misdirecting !.im. It is usually printed conclusions, following one of the quartos. The other quarto and the folio have confusions. Of course we interpret his speech by his act.

H.

4 God's sonties was probably a corruption of God's saints, in old language saunctes. Oaths of this kind are not unfrequent among our ancient writers. To avoid the crime of profane swearing, they sought to disguise the words by abbreviations, which ultimately lost even their similarity to the original phrase.

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 a' will, we talk of young master Launcelot.

Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.' Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, 】 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 staff of my age, my very prop.

Laun. [Aside.] Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a staff, or a prop?-[To him.] 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?

not.

Laun. Do you not know me, father?

Gob. Alack! sir, I am sand-blind, I know you

Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will 'ell you news of your son. [Kneels.] Give me your

5 So, in Love's Labour's Lost, Costard says, Your servan: and Costard." It appears that old Gobbo himself was named Launcelot hence in the next speech Launcelot junior beseeches him to talk of young master Launcelot. The sense here is commonly defeated by making the speech interrogative. The reader will of course see that Launcelot senior scruples to give his son the title of mister

H.