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ACT V. SCENE I.
Enter Lorenzo and Jefrica.
Lor. HE moon shines bright: in such a night
Jef. In such a night
Lor. In such a night
Jef. In such a night
Lor. In such a night
Jef. And in such a night
Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well;
Lor. And in such a night
Jef. I would out-night you, did no body come:
Mif. Stephano is my name, and I bring word,
Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about
prays, For happy wedlock hours.
Lor. Who comes with her?
Mef. None but a holy hermit and her maid.
Lor. He is not, nor have we yet heard from him,
Laun. Sola! did you fee Master Lorenzo and Mistress Lorenzo? fola, sola!
. Lor. Leave hollowing, man: here. Laun. Sola! where? where! Lor. Here.
Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my master. with his horn full of good news. My master will be here ere morning.
Lor. Sweet love, let's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter: why should we go in? My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, Within the house, your mistress is at hand; [Exit Stepbano. And bring your music forth into the air. • How sweet the moon-light sleeps upon this bank! • Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night • Become the touches of sweet harmony. • Sit, Jessica: look how the floor of heav'n • Is thick inlay'd with patens of bright gold; • There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'ft, • But in his motion like an angel fings, • Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims; • Such harmony is in immortal sounds! • But whilst this muddy vesture of decay · Doth grossly close us in, we cannot hear it.' Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn; With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear, And draw her home with music. Jef. I'm never merry when I hear sweet music. [ Music
Lor. · The reason is, your spirits are attentive;
air of music touch their ears,
gaze, * By the sweet power of music. Therefore the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, ftones, and floods; • Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature. • The man that hath no music in himself, . Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, • Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
Enter Portia and Nerisa.
Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less ; A substitute shines brightly as a King, Until a King be by; and then his state Empties itself, as doth an inland brook Into the main of waters. Music, hark! [Music.
Ner. It is the music, Madam, 'of your house.
Por. Nothing is good, I fee, without respect: Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
Ner. Silence bestows the virtue on it, Madam.
Por. The crow doth fing as sweetly as the lark,
Lor. That is the voice,
Por. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckow, By the bad voice.
Lor. Dear Lady, welcome home.
Por. We have been praying for our husbands healths, Which speed we hope the better for our words. Are they return’d?
Lor. Madam, they are not yet; But there is come a messenger before, To fignify their coming.
Por. Go, Neriffa, Give order to my fervants, that they take No note at all of our being absent hence; Nor you, Lorenzo; Jeffica, nor you. [Trumpet founds.
Lor. Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet : We are no tell-tales, Madam, fear
you not. Por. This night, methinks, is but the day-light fick; It looks a little paler; 'tis a day, Şuch as the day is when the sun is hid. Enter Bassanio, Anthonio, Gratiano, and their followers.
Bas: We should hold day with the Antipodes,
Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light;
Ball. I thank you, Madam: give welcome to my This is the man, this is Anthonio,
[fried; To whom I am so infinitely bound.
Por. You should in all sense be much bound to him; For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.
Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of
Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house;
do me wrong; In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk. [To Nerija. Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you
do take it, love, so much at heart, Por. A quarrel, ho, already! what's the matter?
Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring,
Ner. What, talk you of the poesy, or the value?
you would wear it till your hour of death; And that it should lie with
Gra. He will, an? if he live to be a man.
Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,
Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you,
gave my love a ring, and made him swear
Bas. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off,
Por. What ring gave you, my Lord?
Ball. If I could add a lie unto a fault,