Mor. O hell: what have we here?
A carrion death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll! I'd read the writing.
All that glisters is not gold;
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold,
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms infold.
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscroll'd:
Fare you well; your suit is cold.

Mor. Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewell, heat; and welcome frost.—
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. [Exit.
Por. A gentle riddance:-Draw the curtains,
go:-

Let all of his complexion chuse me so. [Exeunt.
SCENE VIII.

Venice.

Enter Salarino and Salanio.

Sul. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail;
With him is Gratiano gone along;
And in their ship, I am sure, Lorenzo is not.
Sala. The villainJew withoutcries rais'dthe duke;
Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.

Sal. He came too late, the ship was under sail:
But there the duke was given to understand,
That in a gondola were seen together
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica:
Besides, Anthonio certify'd the duke,
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

Sala. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets:
My daughter!-O my ducats!-O my daughter!
Fled with a Christian?-OmyChristian ducats!-
Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats! stol'n from me by my daughter!
Andjewels; two stones,two rich and precious stones
Stol'n by my daughter! Justice! find the girl!
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats!

Sat. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
Sala. Let good Anthonio look he keep his day,
Or he shall pay for this.

Sal. Marry, well remember'd:

I reason'd' with a Frenchman yesterday;
Who told me,-in the narrow seas, that part
The French and English, there miscarried
A vessel of our country, richly fraught:
I thought upon Anthonio, when he told me;
And wish'd in silence, that it were not his.
Sala. You were best tellAnthonio what you hear:
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

Sal. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth.
I saw Bassanio and Anthonio part.

Bassanio told him, he would make some speed
Of his return; he answer'd,-Do not so,

Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time;

5 And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love3:
Be merry; and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtship, and such fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently become you there:
10 And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wondrous sensible
He wrung

'Bassanio's hand, and so they parted. Sala. I think, he only loves the world for him. 15I pray thee, let us go, and find him out, And quicken his embraced heaviness

Enter Nerissa, with a Servant.

Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain The prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath, [straight; 25 And comes to his election presently.

Enter Arragon, his train; Portia, with hers.
Flourish of cornets.

If

Por. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince: you chuse that wherein I am contain'd, 30 Straight shall our nuptial-rites be solemniz'd But if you fail, without more speech, my Lord, You must be gone from hence immediately.

Ar. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things:
First, never to unfold to any one

35 Which casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail
Of the right casket, never in my life
To woe a maid in way of marriage; lastly,
If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave you, and be gone.

40

Por. To these injunctions every one doth swear, That comes to hazard for my worthless self.

Ar. And so have I addrest me: Fortune now
To my heart's hope!—Gold, silver, and base lead.
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath:
45 You shall look fairer, ere I give, or hazard.

What says the golden chest? ha! let me see:-
Who chuseth me, shall gain what many men desire.
What many men desire,-That many may be meant
Of the fool multitude, that chuse by show,
50 Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach,
Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet,
Builds in the weather, on the outward wall,
Even in the force' and road of casualty.
I will not chuse what many men desire,
55 Because I will not jump with common spirits,
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house;
Tell me once more what title thou dost bear:
Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves;
60 And well said too: For who shall go about

'. That is, conversed. 2 To slubber is to do any thing carelesly, or imperfectly. perhaps, your loving mind.

i. e. prepared me.

i. e. the power.

3 Meaning,

11

To

To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume
To wear an undeserved dignity.

O, that estates, degrees, and offices,

Were not deriv'd corruptly! and that clear honour 5
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
How many then should cover, that stand bare?
How many be commanded, that command ?
How much low peasantry would then be gleaned
From the true seed of honour? and how much 10
honour

Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be new varnish'd? Well, but to my choice:
Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves:
I will assume desert;-Give me a key for this,
And instantly unlock my fortunes here.

[there.
Por. Too long a pause for that which you find
Ar. What's here? the portrait of a blinking idiot,
Presenting me a schedule? I will read it.
How much unlike art thou to Portia !

How much unlike my hopes, and my deservings!
Who chuseth me, shall have as much as he deserves:
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize? are my deserts no better?

15

20

Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So be gone, sir, you are sped.

Ar. Still more fool I shall appear
By the time I linger bere:
With one fool's head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.—

Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath,
Patiently to bear my wroth2.

Por. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth
O these deliberate fools, when they do chuse,
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.
Ner. The ancient saying is no heresy ;—
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
Enter a Servant.

Serv. Where is my lady?

Por. Here; what would my lord?

Serv. Madam, there is alighted at your gate,

A young Venetian, one that comes before

To signify the approaching of his lord:

From whom he bringeth sensible regreets';

To wit, besides commends, and courteous breath,
Gifts of rich value; yet I have not seen

Por. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices, 25 So likely an ambassador of love:

And of opposed natures.

Ar. What is here?

The fire seven times tried this;
Seven times try'd that judgment is,
That did never chuse amiss:
Some there be, that shadows kiss:
Such have but a shadow's bliss:
There be fools alive, I wis1,
Silver'd o'er; and so was this.

A day in April never came so sweet,
To show how costly summer was at hand,
As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord.

Por. No more, I pray thee; I am half afeard,
30 Thou wilt say anon, he is some kin to thee,
Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him.-
Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see
Quick Cupid's post, that comes so mannerly.
Ner. Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be!
[Excunt

SCENE I

A Street in Venice.

Enter Salanio and Salarino.

Sala. NOW, what news on the Rialto?

АСТ III.

Sal. Come, the full stop.

Sala. Ha,-what say'st thou?-Why the end is, 45 he hath lost a ship.

Sal. Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd, that Anthonio hath a ship of rich lading wreck'd 50 on the narrow seas; the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the carcases of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.

155

Sala. I would she were as lying a gossip in that, as ever knapt ginger, or made her neighbours believe she wept for the death of a third husband: But it is true, without any slips of prolixity, or crossing the plain high-way of talk,-that the good 60 Anthonio, the honest Anthonio,O that I had a title good enough to keep his name company !—

! That is, I know. i. e. my misfortune.

Sal. I would it might prove the end of his losses! Sala. Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil cross thy prayer; for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew.

chants?

Shy. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my daughter's flight.

Sal. That's certain! I, for my part, knew the taylor that made the wings she flew withal.

Sala. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledge; and then it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam.

Shy. She is damn'd for it.

Sal. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge.
Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel!
'i, e. salutations.

To knap is to break short.
Sala,

but what lights o' my shoulders; no sighs, but
o' my breathing; no tears, but.o' my shedding.
Tub. Yes, other men have ill luck too; Antho-
nio, as I heard in Genoa,

Shy. What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck?
Tub. Hath an argosy cast away, coming from
Tripolis.

Shy. I thank God, I thank God:-Is it true?
Is it true?

Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that es caped the wreck.

Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal :-Good news, good news: ha! ha! Where? in Genoa?

Tub. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, 15 one night, fourscore ducats.

Enter Bassanio, Portia, Gratiano, and
Attendants.

The Caskets are set out.

Por. I pray you, tarry; pause a day or two,
Before you hazard; for in chusing wrong,

I lose your company; therefore forbear a while:
There's something tells me (but it is not love)
I would not lose you; and you know yourself,
50 Hate counsels not in such a quality:

Shy. Why there, there, there, there! a diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! the curse never fell upon our nation 'till now; 155 never felt it 'till now:-two thousand ducats in that; and other precious, precious jewels.-Iwould, my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear! 'would she were hears'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin! No news of them?-60 Why, so and I know not what's spent in the search: Why, thou loss upon loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge: nor no ill luck stirring,

Let fortune go to hell for it.-not I1.
I speak too long; but 'tis to peize the time;
To eke it, and to draw it out in length,
To stay you from election.

Bass. Let me chuse;
For as I am, I live upon the rack.

Por. Upon the rack, Bassanio? then confess
What treason there is mingled with your love.

Bass. None, but that ugly treason of mistrust, Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love: There may as well be amity and life

"Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love.
Por. Ay, but I fear, you speak upon the rack,
Where men enforced do speak any thing.

Bass. Promise me life and I'll confess the truth.
Por. Well then, confess and live.
Bass. Confess, and love,

Bass. So maythe outward shows be least them-
The world is still deceiv'd with ornament. [selves;
In law what plea so tainted and corrupt,
But, being season'd with a gracious voice,
5 Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
What damned error, but some sober brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
There is no vice so simple, but assumes
10 Some mark of virtue on its outward parts.
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules, and frowning Mars;
Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk?
15 And these assume but valour's excrement,
To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
And you shall see 'tis purchas'd by the weight;
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lightest that wear most of it:
20 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 sepulchre.
25 Thus ornament is but the guiled' shore

To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,

The seeming truth which cunning times put on To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold, 30 Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee:

Had been the very sum of my confession:
O happy torment, when my torturer
Doth teach me answers for deliverance!
But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
Por. Away then: I am lock'd in one of them;
If you do love me, you will find me out.-
Nerissa, and the rest, stand all aloof.-
Let musick sound, while he doth make his choice:
Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end,
Fading in musick: that the comparison
Maystand more proper, my eye shall be the stream,
And wat'ry death-bed for him: He may win:
And what is musick then? then musick 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 summon him to marriage. Now he goes,
With no less presence', but with much more love,
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem
The virgin-tribute paid by howling Troy
To the sea-monster: I stand for sacrifice,
The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,
With bleared visages, come forth to view
The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules!
Live thou, I live:-With much much more dismay
I view the fight, than thou that mak'st the fray.
[Musick within.45
A Song, whilst 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?
Reply. 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.
Pll begin it,- Ding, dong, bell.
All. Ding, dong, bell.

35

Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
Tween man and man: but thou, thou meager lead,
Which rather threat'nest, than dost 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 rash-embrac'd despair,
And shudd'ring fear, and green-ey'd jealousy!
O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy,
40 In measure rain thy joy, scant this excess;
I feel too much thy blessing, make it less,
For fear I surfeit! [Opening the leaden casket.

Bass. What find I here?

Fair Portia's counterfeit ? What demy-god
Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,
Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips,
Parted with sugar breath; so sweet a barr
Should sunder such sweet friends: Here in her hairs
50 The painter plays the spider; and hath woven
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men,
Faster than gnats in cobwebs: But her eyes,-
How could he see to do them? Having made one,
Methinks, it should have power to steal both his,
55 And leave itself unfurnish'd: Yet look, how far
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow

The author of the REVISAL of Shakspeare's text assigns the following meaning to this difficult passage:-"If the worst I fear should happen, and it should prove in the event, that I, who am justly yours by the free donation I have made you of myself, should yet not be yours in consequence "of an unlucky choice, let fortune go to hell for robbing you of your just due, not I for violating "my oath." To peize comes from peser, Fr. which signifies to retard. Meaning, with no less dignity of mien. i. e. curled. i. e. the treacherous shore. Counterfeit here means a likeness, a resemblance.

I know he will be glad of our success;
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece. [lost!
Sale. Would you had won the fleece that he hath
Por.There are some shrewd contents in yon same
That steals the colour of Bassanio's cheek: [paper,
Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world

Intermission here means pause, delay.