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Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy
to laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry,
Enter BASSANIO, Lorenzo, and GRATIANO.
Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
you embrace the occasion to depart.
Say, when? You grow exceeding strange : Must it be so? Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.
[Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO. Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found
Bass. I will not fail you.
Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio ; You have too much respect upon
: They lose it, that do buy it with much care. Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.
Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. Gra,
Let me play the Fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let
liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio, I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ; There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness 3 entertain, With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark! O, my Antonio, I do know of these, That therefore only are reputed wise, For saying nothing; who, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, fools, I'll tell thee more of this another time: But fish not, with this melancholy bait, For thiş fool's gudgeon, this opinion.
3 Obstinate silence,
Come, good Lorenzo :-Fare ye well, a while ;
Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for silence is only com
mendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
[Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO. Ant. Is that any thing now?
Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice: His reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when you have them, they are not worth the search.
Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is this same
Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
And from your love I have a warranty
Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by advent'ring both, I oft found both : I urge this childhood proof, Because what follows is pure innocence. I owe you much ; and, like a wilful youth, That which I owe is lost : but if you please To shoot another arrow that self
did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,
locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' strand, And many Jasons come in quest of her. O my Antonio, had I but the means To hold a rival place with one of them, I have a mind presages me such thrift, That I should questionless be fortunate. Ant. Thou know'st, that all my fortunes are at
sea; Nor have I money, nor commodity To raise a present sum: therefore go forth,
credit can in Venice do ; That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. Go, presently inquire, and so will I, Where money is; and I no question make, To have it of my trust, or for