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-glafs run,
But I should think of fhallows, and of flats;
And fee my wealthy Andrew dock'd in fand,
Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs,
To kifs her burial. Should I go to church,
And fee the holy edifice of ftone,

And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks?
Which, touching but my gentle veffel's fide,
Would scatter all her fpices on the stream?
Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks :
And, in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought,
To think on this: and thall 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.
Sala. Why, then you are in love.

Anth. Fie, fie!

Sala. Not in love neither? then let us fay, you are fad,

Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy
For you to laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry,
Because you are not fad. Now, by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper;
And others of fuch vinegar-afpect,

That

That they'll not fhew their teeth in way of smiles
Though Neftor fwear the jeft be laughable.

Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.

5

you merry,

Sal. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinfGratiano and Lorenzo: Fare you well: [man, We leave you now with better company, Sala. I would have ftaid till I had made 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 the occafion to depart. Sal. Good-morrow, my good lords.

Baff. Good figniors both, when shall we laugh? fay, when?

You grow exceeding ftrange; Muft it be fo? Sal. We'll make our leifures to attend on yours. [Exeunt SAL. and SALA, Lor. My lord Baffanio, fince you have found Anthonio,

I

We too will leave you; but, at dinner-time, pray you, have in mind where we must meet. Baff I will not fail you.

Gra. You look not well, fignior Anthonio You have too much refpect upon the world: They lose 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 ftage, where every man must play a 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

Why fhould a man, whofe blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandfire cut in alabafter?

Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice
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 vifages

Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond:
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dreft in an opinion
Of wildom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who fhould fay, I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dogs 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 almost damn those ears,
Which hearing them, would call their brothers, fools.
I'll tell thee more of this another time:

But fifh not, with this melancholy bait,

For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.

Come, good Lorenzo :-Fare you 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 thefe fame dumb wife men;
For Gratiano never lets me speak.

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more,
Thou shalt not know the found of thine own tongue.
Anth. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear.
Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for filence is only com-
mendable

In a neat's tongue dry'd, and a maid not vendible.
[Exeunt GRA. and LOREN.

Anth. Is that any thing now!
Bal. Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing,

more

more than any man in all Venice : His reafons 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.
Anth. Well, tell me now, what lady is the fame,
To whom you fwore a secret pilgrimage,
That you to-day promis'd to tell me of?
Ball. '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:
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 money, and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty
To unburthen all my plots, and purpofes,
How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

Anth. I pray you, good Baffanio, let me know it;
And, if it stand, as you yourself still do,
Within the eye of honour, be affur'd,

My purse, my perfon, my extremeft means,
Lye all unlock'd to your occafions.

Ba. In my fchool-days, when I had loft one shaft, Ifhot his fellow of the felf-fame flight

The felf-fame 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 loft; but if
To shoot another arrow that felf way

you please

Which you did fhoot the first, I do not doubt,
As I will watch the aim, or to find both,
Or bring your latter hazard back again,
And thankfully reft debtor for the firft.

Anth. You know me well; and herein spend but
To wind about my love with circumftance; [time,
And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong,
In making queftion of my uttermoft,

Than if you had made waste of all I have:
Then do but fay to me what I fhould do,
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And am I preft unto it: therefore, fpeak.
Baff. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And the is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wond'rous virtues. Sometimes from her eyes
I did receive fair fpeechlefs meffages;

Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalu'd
To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.

Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth ;
For the four winds blow in from every coaft
Renowned fuitors: and her funny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her feat of Belmont, Colchos ftrand,
And many Jafons come in queft of her.
O, my Anthonio, had I but the means
To hold a rival place with one of them,
I have a mind prefages me fuch thrift,
That I fhould queftionlefs be fortunate.

Anth. Thou knoweft, that all my fortunes are at

Nor have I money, nor commodity,

[fea

To raise a prefent fum: therefore go forth;

Try what my credit can in Venice do:

That fhall be rack'd, even to the uttermost,

To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.

Go,