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His borrow'd purfe. Well, Ffica, go in;
Perhaps, I will return immediately;
Do, as I bid you
Shut the doors after you ; faf bind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
Jef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft,
I have a father, you a daughter, loft.
Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo desired us to make a stand.
Sal. His hour is almost paft.
Gra. And it is marvel he oat dwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.
Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pigeons fly (7)
To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!
Gra. That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast,
With that keen appetite that he fits down?
Where is the horse, that doth untread again
His tedious measures with th' unbated fire,
That he did pace them firft ? all things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,
The skarfed bark puts from her native bay,
(7) O, ten times fafter Verus’ Pigeons fly. ] This is a very and Image, of Venus's Pigeons flying to teal the Bonds of Love. The Senle is obvious, and we know the Dignity due to Venus's Pigeons. There was certainly a Joke intended here, which the Ignorance, of Boldness, of the firf Transcribers have murdered: I doubt nos, but Sbakespeare wrote the Line thus :
0, len times fafter Venus' Widgeone fly
To seal &c. For Widgeon is not only the filly Bird fo call'd, but fignifies likewise, metaphorically, a filly Fellow, as Goose, or Gudgeon does
Hugg'd and embraced by the Atrumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth the return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the itrumpet wind!
Sal. Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter.
Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode;
Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait;
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then; come, approach ;
Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within ;
Jeffica above, in boy's cloaths.
Tel. Who are you tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll fovear, that I do know your tongue.
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.
Fef. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed ;
For who love I fo much ? and now who knows,
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness, that thou art.
Jel. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains, I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me ; For I am much afham'd of my exchanges But love is blind, and lovers canrot see The
pretty follies that themselves commit; For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy.
Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jef. What must í hold a candle to my shames!
They in themselves, goodfooth, are 100, too, light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,
And I should be obscur'd. :
Lor. So are you, sweet,
Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once in
For the close night doth play the run away,
And we are staid for at Bafanio's feast.
Jef. I will make faft the doors, and gild myself
With some more ducats, and be with you strait.
[Exit from aboven Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no few.
Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily;
For she is wise, if I can judge of her;
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true;
And true she is, as she hath prov'd herself;
And therefore like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my conitant soul.
Enter Jessica, to them.
What art thou come? on, gentlemen, away;
Our marquing mates by this time for us ftay. [Exit,
Anth. Who's there?
Gra. Signior Anthonio.
Anth. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest ?
'Tis nine o'clock, our friends all stay for you;
No masque to-night; the wind is come abous,
Ballanio presently will go aboard ;
I have sent twenty out to seek for you,
Gra. I'm glad on't; I desire no more delight
Than to be under fail, and gone to-night. [Exeunt.
SCENE change to Belmont. Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains, Por, O, draw aside the curtains, and discover
Now make your choice. [Three caskets are discover'd.
Mor. The first of gold, which this inscription bears, Who chuseth me, fall gain what many men' desire. The second silver, which this promise carries,
Who chuleth me, shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. How shall I know, if I do chuse the right?
Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince ; If you chuse that, then I am yours withal.
Mor. Some God direct my judgment ! let me see,
I will survey th' inscriptions back again;
What says this leaden casket;
Who chujith me, must give and hazard all he hath.
Muft give, for what? for lead : hazard, for lead ::
This caket threatens. Men, that hazard all,
Do it in hope of fair advantages:
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross ;
I'll then not give, nor hazard aught for lead.
What says the filver with her virgin hue!
Who chuseth me, Jhall get as much as he deferves.
As much as he deserves ? pause there, Morochius;
And weigh thy value with an even hand.
If thou be'it rated by thy estimation,
Thou doft deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
And yet to be afraid of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of myself.
As much as I deserve--why, that's the lady:
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding :
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I ftray'd no farther, but chose here?
Let's see once more this saying gravid in gold.
Who chuseth me, snall gain what many men defire.
Why, that's the lady; all the world deGres her ;
From the four corners of the earth they come
To kiss this fhrine, this mortal breathing faint.
Th' Hyrcunian deserts, and the vaftie wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares now,
For Princes to come view fair Portia.
The wat'ry kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign fpirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heav'nly picture.
Is't like, that lead contains her? 'twere damnation,
To think so base a thought: it were too gross
To rib her searcloth in the obscure grave.
Or Mall I think, in silver she's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalu'd to try'd gold ?
O finful thought, never fo rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold! they have in England
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that's insculpt upon :
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within. Deliver me the key ;
Here do I chuse, and thrive I as I may !
Por. There take it, Prince, and if my form lie there, Then I am yours.
(Unlocking the gold casket, Mor. O hell! what have we here i a carrion death, Within whose empty eye there is a scrowl: I'll read the writing.
All that glifters is not gold,
Often have you beard that told;
Many a man his life bath fold,
But my outside to bebeld.
Gilded wood may worms infold:
been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inferol d;
Fare you well, your fuit is cold.
Mor, Cold, indeed, and labour lofts Then farewel, heat; and welcome, frost: Portia, adiep! I have too griev'd a heart To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. [Exit.
Por. A gentle riddance: draiv the curtains; go Let all of his complexion chufe me fo. [Exeunt.
Enter Solarino and Salanio.
With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship, I'm sure, Lorenzo is not.
Sola. The villain Jew with outcries rais’d the Duke, Wlio went with him to search Dafunio's thip.