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The virgin-tribute, paid by howling Troy
To the lea-monfter: I ftand for sacrifice;
The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,
With bleared visages come forth to view
The issue of th' exploit. Go, Hercules!
Live thou, I live; with much, much more dismay
I view the sight, than thou that mak’it the fray.
[Music within. A fong, whilf Bassanio 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 engender'd in the eyes,
With gazing fed, and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies :
Let us all ring fancy's knell.
I'll begin it.
Ding, dong, bell.
All, Ding, dong, bell.
Ball. So may the outward shows be least themselves:
The world is still deceiv'd with ornament.
In law, what plea fo tainted and corrupt,
But being season'd with a gracious voice,
Obfcures the show of evil? In religion,
What damned error, but some fober brow
Will bless it, ard approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
There is no vice so simple, but assumes
Some mark of virtue on its outward parts.
cowards, whose hearts are all as false
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mais;
Who, inward search’d, have livers white as milk?
And these assume but valour's excrement *,
To render them redoubted. Look or beauty,
And you shall fee' is purchas'd by the weight,
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lightest that wear moit of it.
So are those crisped snaky golden locks,
Which make such wanton gambols with the wind
Upon supposed fairness, often known
To be the dowry of a second head,
The skull, that bred them, in the fepulchre.
Thus ornament is but the guilty shore
To a most dang’rous fea; the beauteous scarf
Vailing an Indian beauty; in a word,
The seeming truth which cunning times put on
T'intrap the wisest. Then, 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 meagre
Which rather threat'neft, than doft promise aught,
Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence;
And here chuse I; joy be the consequence!
Por. How all the other passions fleet to air,
As doubtful thoughts, and rafh-embrac'd despair,
And shudd'ring fear, and green-ey'd jealousy
O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy;
In measure rain thy joy,
scant this excess, I feel too much thy blefling, make it less, For fear I surfeit.
[Opening the lcaden casket. Ball. What find I here? Fair Portia's counterfeit ? What demy-god Hath come so near creation? Move thefe eyes? Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips Parted with fugar breath; so sweet a bar Should sunder such sweet friends: here in her hairs The painter plays the spider, and hath woven A golden meine intrap the hearts of men, Faster than gnats in cobwebs: but her
eres, | How could he fee to do them? having made onc, Methinks it should have power to steal both hia, And leave itself unfinish”d. Yet how far The substance of iny praise doth wrong this shadow In underprizing it, so far this shadow Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll, The continent and fummary of my fortune. Vol. II. к
You that chufe not by the view,
Chance as fair, and chuse as true :
Since this fortune falls to you,
Be content, and seek no new.
If you be well pleas'd with this,
And hold your fortune for your bliss,
j'our lady is,
And claim her with a loving kiss.
A gentle scroll; fair Lady, by your leave;
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 eyes ;
Hearing applause and universal shout,
Giddy in spirit, gazing still in doubt,
Whether those peals of praise be his or no;
So (thrice fair Lady) stand I, even so,
As doubtful whether what I fee be true,
Until confirm'd, lign'd, ratify'd by you.
Por. You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
Such as I am: tho’ for myself alone,
I would not be ambitious in my wish,
To with myself much better; yet for
I would be treble twenty times myself,
A thousand times more fair ; ten thousand times
More rich; that, to stand high in your account,
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account; but the full sum of me
Is fum of fomething, which, to term in grofs,
Is an unleffon'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis’d:
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learn; more happy then in this,
She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed,
As from her lord, her governor, her king:
Myself, and what is mine, to you
Is now converted, But now I was the lord
Of this air mansion, master of my fervants,
Queen o'er my self; and even now, but row,
This noufe, these servants, and this fame myself,
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.
Baj. Madam, you have bereft me of all words,
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins;
And there is such confusion in my pow'rs,
As, after some oration fairly spoke
By a beloved prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleased multitude;
Where every something, being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, fave of joy
Express'd, and not express’d. But when this ring
Parts from this finger; then parts life from hence;
O, then be bold to say, Bassanio's dead.
Ner. My Lord and Lady, it is now our time,
That have stood by, and feen our wishes prosper,
To cry, Good joy, good joy, my Lord and Lady!
Gra. My Lord Baffanio, and my gentle Lady,
you all the joy that you can wish;
For, I am sure, you can wish none from me*:
And when your Honours mean to folemnize
The bargain of your faith. I do beseech you,
Evn at that time I may be married too.
Baff. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.
Gra. I thank your Lordship, you have got me one.
My eyes, my Lord, can look as swift as yours;
You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid ;
You lov'd, I lov'd; for intermission
No more pertains to me, my Lord, than
Your fortune stood upon the casket there;
And so did mine too, as the matter falls ::
For wooing here until I sweat again,
And swearing, till my very roof was dry
With oaths of love; at lait, if promise laft,
I got a promise of this fair one here,
To have her love, provided that your fortune
Archiev'd her mistress.
Por. Is this true, Nerissa ?
Ner. Madam, it is, so you stand pleas'd withal:
* That is, distin A from me and my wishes.
Baf. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?
Gra. Yes, faith, my Lord.
Bal. Our feast shall be much honour'd in your marriage.
Gra. We'll play with them, the first boy for a thousand ducats.
Ner. What, and stake down?
Gra. No, we shall ne'er win at that sport, and stake
But who comez here? Lorenzo and his infidel?
What, and my old Venetian friend, Salanio?
Enter Lorenzo, Feffica, and Salanio.
Bal. Lorenzo and Salanio, welcome hither;
If that the youth of my new interest here
Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave,
friends and country-men, (Sweet Portia,) welcome.
Por. So do I, my Lord; they are entirely welcome.
Lor. I thank your Honour: for my part, my Lord,
My purpose was not to have seen you here;
But meeting with Salanio by the way,
He did intreat me, past all saying nay,
To come with him along.
Sal. I did, my Lord,
And I have reason fort ; Signior Anthonio
Commends him to you.
[Gives Bafanio a letter. Bal. Ere I ope this letter, I
pray you tell me how my good friend dath.
Sal. Not fick, my Lord, unless it be in mind; Nor well, unless in mind; his letter there Will shew you his estate. [Bafania opens the letter.
Gra. Neriffa, cheer yon' ftranger: bid her welcome. Your hand, Salanio; what's the news from Venice? How doth that royal merchant, good Anthonio? I know he will be glad of our success: We are the Jafons, we have won the fleece. Sal. Would you had won the fleece that he hath loft!