I'll see if I can get my husband's ring,

[To Por. Which I did make him swear to keep for ever. Por. Thou may'st, I warrant: We shall have old

swearing, That they did give the rings away to men ; But we'll out-face them, and out-fwear them too, Away, make haite ; thou know'st where I will tarry. Ner. Come, good sir, will you shew me to this house?

[Exeunt.

А сту.

SCENE I.

Belmont. A Grove, or Green Place,

before Portia's House.

Enter Lorenzo, and Jeffica.
Lor. The moon shines bright :-In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise; in such a night,
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall,
And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.
Jef

. In such a night,
Did Thisbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay'd away.

Lor. In such a night,
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea-banks, and wav'd her love

old swearing,]-a torrent of oaths.
“ Then here will be old utis."
HENRY IV, Part 2, Act II, S. 4. Draw.

To come again to Carthage.

Jef. In such a night,
Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs
That did renew old Æfon.

Lor. In such a night,
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew;
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.

Jef. And in such a night,
Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well ;
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

Lor. And in such a night,
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

Jes. I would out-night you, did no body come;
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter a Servant.

Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
Serv. A friend.
Lor. A friend? what friend ? your name, I pray you,

friend?
Serv. Stephano is my name ; and I bring word,
My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont : she doth stray about
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.

Lor. Who comes with her ?

Serv. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. I pray you, is my master yet return'd?

Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him. But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,

And

And ceremoniously let us prepare
Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

Enter Launcelot smacking a whip.
Laun. Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola, sola!
Lor. Who calls ?

Laun. Sola ! did you see master Lorenzo, and mistress
Lorenza ? sola, 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.

[Exit.
Lor. Sweet foul, 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;
And bring your musick forth into the air.— [Exit fervanta
How sweet the moon-light Neeps upon this bank !
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of musick
Creep in our ears ; soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica : Look, how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlay'd with 'pattens of bright gold;
There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims.
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grody & close it in, we cannot hear it.
Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn ;

pattens ]—mall round plates.
cloje it in, ]-deadens the found, ftifles, suppresses it.
Diana)-the moon.

M 3

With

With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with musick.
Jef. I am never merry, when I hear sweet musick.

[Mufck.
Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive :
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mand bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;
If they perchance but hear a trumper sound,
Or
any

air of musick touch their ears, You shall perceive then make a mutual stand, Their favage eyes turn’d to a modest gaze, By the sweet power of musick: Therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods; Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But musick for the time doth change his nature : The man that hath no musick 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; And his affections dark as Erebus : Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the musick.

Enter Portia, and Nerisa, at a distance.
Por. That light we see, is burning in my hall. .
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

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, Mufick ! hark ! [Mufick. Ner. It is your musick, madam, of the house. .

Por.

Por. Nothing is good, I see, ' without respect; Methinks, it sounds much sweeter than by day.

Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.

Por. The crow doth fing as sweetly as the lark,
When neither is attended ; and, I think,
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.
How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise, and true perfection !
Peace ! how the moon Neeps with Endymion,
And would not be awak'd !

[Mufick ceases. Lor. That is the voice, Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

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' welfare, 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 signify their coming.

Por. Go in, Nerissa,
Give order to my servants, that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence ;-
Nor
you,
Lorenzo ; Jessica, nor you.

[A tucket 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, Such as the day is when the sun is hid.

I without respect ;]-not absolutely, but relatively, or as it is circum. hanced.

Enter

Μ Α