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D

UKE of Venice.

Morochius, a Moorish Prince.

Prince of Arragon.

Prince.} Portia.

Suiters to

Anthonio, the Merchant of Venice.

Baffanio, his Friend, in love with Portia.

Salanio,

Solarino,

Gratiano,

Friends to Anthonio and Baffanio.

Lorenzo, in love with Jeffica.

Shylock, a Jew.

Tubal, a Jew, his Friend.

Launcelot, a Clown, Servant to the Jew.

Gobbo, an old Man, Father to Launcelot.

Portia, an Heiress of great Quality and Fortune.
Neriffa, Confident to Portia.
Jeffica, Daughter to Shylock.

Senators of Venice, Officers, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants.

SCENE partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia upon the Continent.

The

The Merchant of Venice.

ACTI. SCENE I.

Enter Anthonio, Solarino and Salanio.

ANTHONIO.

N footh I know not why I am so fad,
It wearies me; you fay it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it;
What Stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn; and fuch a want-wit Sadness
makes of me,
That I have much ado to know my felf.

Sal. Your Mind is toffing on the Ocean,
There where your Argofies with portly Sail,
Like Signiors and rich Burgers on the Flood,
Or as it were the Pageants of the Sea,
Do over-peer the petty Traffickers

That Curtfie to them, do them Reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven Wings.
Sola. Believe me, Sir, had I fuch Venture forth,
The better Part of my Affections would
Be with my Hopes abroad. I fhould be still'
Plucking the Grafs, to know where fits the Wind,
Peering in Maps for Ports, and Peers, and Roads;
And every Object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my Ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me fad.

Sal.

Sal. My Wind cooling my Broth,
Would blow me to an Ague, when I thought
What harm a Wind too great might do at Sea.
I should not fee the fandy Hour-glass run,
But I fhould think of Shallows and of Flats,
And fee my wealthy Andrew dock'd in Sand,
Vailing her high Top lower than her Ribs,
To kifs her Burial: Should I go to Church
And fee the holy Edifice of Stone,

And not bethink me straight of dangerous Rocks?
Which touching but my gentle Veffel's Side,
Would scatter all her Spices on the Stream,
Enrobe the roaring Waters with my Silks;
And in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I have the Thought
To think on this, and fhall I lack the Thought,
That fuch a Thing bechanc'd would make me fad?
But tell not me, I know Anthonio

Is fad to think upon his Merchandize.

Anth. Believe me, no, I thank my Fortune for it,
My Ventures are not in one Bottom trusted,
Nor to one Place; nor is my whole Estate

Upon the Fortune of this prefent Year:
Therefore my Merchandize makes me not fad.
Sola. Why then you are in Love.

Anth. Fie, fie.

Sola. Not in Love neither! then let us fay you are fad, Because you are not merry; and 'twere as eafie

For you to laugh and leap, and fay you are merry,
Because you are not fad. Now by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd ftrange Fellows in her Time:
Some that will evermore peep through their Eyes,
And laugh like Parrots at a Bag-piper;
And other of fuch vinegar Afpect,

That they'll not fhew their Teeth in way of Smile,
Though Neftor fwear the Jeft be laughable.

Enter Baffanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano.

Sal. Here comes Bassanio,

Your most noble Kinsman;

Gratiano and Lorenzo: Fare ye well;

We leave you now with better Company.

Sola

Sola. I would have ftaid 'till I had made you merry,
If worthier Friends had not prevented me.

Anth. Your Worth is very dear in my Regard:
I take it your own Bufinefs calls on you,
And you embrace th' Occafion to depart.

Sal. Good Morrow, my good Lords.

Baff. Good Signiors both, when fhall we laugh? fay when? You grow exceeding ftrange; muft it be fo?

Sal. We'll make our Leifures to attend on yours.

Sola. My Lord Baffanie, fince you have found Anthonio, We two will leave you; but at Dinner Time,

I pray you have in mind where we must meet.
Baff. I will not fail you.

[Exeunt Solar. and Sala.
Gra. You look not well, Signior Anthonio;
You have too much Refpect upon the World:
They lofe it that do buy it with much Care.
Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.

Anth. I hold the World but as the World, Gratiano;
A Stage where every Man must play his Part;
And mine a fad one.

Gra. Let me play the Fool

With Mirth and Laughter; let old Wrinkles come,
And let my Liver rather heat with Wine,
Than my Heart cool with mortifying Groans:
Why should a Man, whofe Blood is warm within,
Sit like his Grandfire cut in Alablafter?
Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the Jaundies
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Anthonio,
I love thee, and it is my Love that speaks:
There are a fort of Men, whofe Visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing Pond,
And do a wilful Stilnefs entertain,
With purpose to be dreft in an Opinion
Of Wisdom, Gravity, profound Conceit,
As who should fay, I am, Sir, an Oracle;
And when I ope my Lips, let no Dog bark.
O my Anthonio, I do know of thefe,
That therefore only are reputed Wife,
For faying nothing; who I am very fure,
If they fhould fpeak, would almoft 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 melancholly Bait,
For this fool Gudgeon, this Opinion.
Come good Lorenzo, fare ye well a while,
I'll end my Exhortation after Dinner.

Lor. Well, we will leave you then 'till Dinner-time.
I must be one of these fame dumb wife Men;
For Gratiano never lets me fpeak.

Gra. Well, keep me Company but two Years more,
Thou shalt not know the Sound of thine own Tongue.
Anth. Fare you well; I'll grow a Talker for this Gear.
Gra. Thanks i'faith; for Silence is only commendable
In a Neats Tongue dry'd, and a Maid not vendible. [Exit.
Anth. Is that any thing now?

Baff. Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any Man in all Venice: his Reasons are two Grains of Wheat hid in two Bushels of Chaff; you may feek all Day e'er you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the Search.

Anth. Well; tell me now what Lady is the fame
To whom you swore a fecret Pilgrimage,
That you to Day promis'd to tell me of?
Baff. 'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio,
How much I have difabled mine Eftate,
By fomething fhewing a more fwelling Port
Than my faint Means would grant continuance to;
Nor do I now make Moan to be abridg'd
From fuch a noble Rate; but my chief Care
Is to come fairly off from the great Debts
Wherein my time, fomething too prodigal,
Hath left me gag'd: To you, Anthonio,
I owe the most in Mony, and in Love,
And from your Love I have a Warranty
To unburthen all my Plots and Purposes,
How to get clear of all the Debts I owe.

Anth. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it,
And if it ftands as you your felf ftill do,
Within the Eye of Honour, be affur'd
My Purse, my Perfon, my extreamest Means
Lye all unlock'd to your Occafions.

Ball

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