Neriffa teaches me what to believe;

I'll die for't, but fome woman had the ring.

BASS. No, by mine honour, madam, by my foul, No woman had it, but a civil doctor,

Which did refuse three thoufand ducats of me,
And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him,
And fuffer'd him to go difpleas'd away;
Even he that had held up the very life

Of my dear friend. What should I fay, fweet lady?
I was enforc'd to fend it after him;

I was befet with fhame and courtesy;
My honour would not let ingratitude

So much befmear it: Pardon me, good lady;
For, by these bleffed candles of the night,"

Had you been there, I think, you would have begg'd
The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.

POR.Let not that doctor e'er come near my house: Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, And that which you did swear to keep for me, I will become as liberal as you ;

I'll not deny him any thing I have,

No, not my body, nor my husband's bed:

wanted modefty fo much, as to urge the demand of a thing kept on an account in fome fort religious. JOHNSON.

Thus Calphurnia fays to Julius Cæfar:

"Cæfar, I never ftood on ceremonies." STEEVENS.

6 — candles of the night,] We have again the same expreffion in one of our author's Sonnets, in Macbeth, and Romeo and Juliet. It likewife occurs in Diella, Certaine Sonnets adjoyned to the amorous poeme of Dom Diego and Gineura, by R. L. 1596:

"He who can count the candles of the fkie,

"Reckon the fands whereon Pactolus flows," &c.

MALONE:

In fome Saxon poetry preferved in Hickes's Thefaurus, (Vol. I. p. 181,) the fun is called God's candle. So that this periphrafis for the stars, fuch a favourite with our poet, might have been an expreffion not grown obfolete in his days. HOLT WHITE.

Know him I fhall, I am well fure of it:

Lie not a night from home; watch me, like Argus:
If you do not, if I be left alone,

Now, by mine honour, which is yet my own,
I'll have that doctor for my bed fellow.

NER. And I his clerk; therefore be well ad-
vis'd,

How you do leave me to mine own protection. GRA. Well, do you fo: let not me take him then;

For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

ANT. I am the unhappy fubject of thefe quarrels. POR. Sir, grieve not you; You are welcome notwithstanding.

BASS. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong; And, in the hearing of these many friends, I fwear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, Wherein I see myself,

Por.

Mark you but that!

In both my eyes he doubly fees himself:
In each eye, one :-swear by your double self,"
And there's an oath of credit.

Nay, but hear me :

BASS. Pardon this fault, and by my foul I fwear, I never more will break an oath with thee. ANT. I once did lend my body for his wealth; Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, [TO PORTIA.

8

7-fwear by your double felf,] Double is here used in a bad fenfe for-full of duplicity. MALONE.

8

for his wealth;] For his advantage; to obtain his happinefs. Wealth was, at that time, the term oppofite to adverfity, or calamity. JOHNSON.

So, in the Litany: "In all time of our tribulation; in all time of our wealth;" STEEVENS.

Had quite mifcarried: I dare be bound again,
My foul upon the forfeit, that your lord
Will never more break faith advisedly.

POR. Then you fhall be his furety: Give him this;

And bid him keep it better than the other.

ANT. Here, lord Baffanio; fwear to keep this

ring.

BASS. By heaven, it is the fame I

tor!

gave

the doc

POR. I had it of him: pardon me, Baffanio; For by this ring the doctor lay with me.

NER. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.

GRA. Why, this is like the mending of high

ways

In fummer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deferv'd it?

POR. Speak not fo grofsly.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure;

It comes from Padua, from Bellario:

There you fhall find, that Portia was the doctor;
Neriffa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here
Shall witness, I fet forth as foon as you,
And but even now return'd; I have not yet
Enter'd my house.-Antonio, you are welcome;
And I have better news in ftore for you,
Than you expect: unfeal this letter foon;
There you fhall find, three of your argofies
Are richly come to harbour fuddenly:

You fhall not know by what strange accident
I chanced on this letter.

ANT.

I am dumb.

BASS. Were you the doctor, and I knew you

not?

GRA. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold?

NER. Ay; but the clerk, that never means to do it,

Unless he live until he be a man.

BASS. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow; When I am abfent, then lie with my wife.

ANT. Sweet lady, you have given me life, and
living;

For here I read for certain, that my ships
Are fafely come to road.

POR.

How now, Lorenzo?

My clerk hath fome good comforts too for you.

NER. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.

There do I give to you, and Jeffica,

From the rich Jew, a fpecial deed of gift,
After his death, of all he dies poffefs'd of.

LOR. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way
Of starved people.

POR.
It is almost morning,
And yet, I am fure, you are not fatisfied
Of thefe events at full: Let us go in;
And charge us there upon intergatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully.

GRA. Let it be fo: The firft intergatory,
That my Neriffa fhall be fworn on, is,
Whether till the next night she had rather stay;
Or go to bed now, being two hours to-day:
But were the day come, I fhould wish it dark,
That I were couching with the doctor's clerk.

Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing
So fore, as keeping fafe Neriffa's ring. [Exeunt.?

9 It has been lately difcovered, that this fable is taken from a ftory in the Pecorone of Ser Giovanni Fiorentino, a novelift, who wrote in 1378. [The firft novel of the fourth day.] The story has been published in English, and I have epitomized the translation. The tranflator is of opinion, that the choice of the cafkets is borrowed from a tale of Boccace, which I have likewise abridged. though I believe that Shakspeare must have had fome other novel in view. JOHNSON.

There lived at Florence, a merchant whofe name was Bindo. He was rich, and had three fons. Being near his end, he called for the two eldeft, and left them heirs: to the youngest he left nothing. This youngest, whose name was Giannetto, went to his father, and faid, What has my father done? The father replied, Dear Giannetto, there is none to whom I wish better than to you. Go to Venice to your godfather, whofe name is Anfaldo; he has no child, and has wrote to me often to send you thither to him. He is the richest merchant amongst the Chriftians: if you behave well, you will be certainly a rich man. The fon anfwered I am ready to do whatever my dear father fhall command: upon which him his benediction, and in a few days died.

he gave

Giannetto went to Anfaldo, and prefented the letter given by the father before his death. Anfaldo reading the letter, cried out, My dearest godfon is welcome to my arms. He then asked news of his father. Giannetto replied, He is dead. I am much grieved, replied Anfaldo, to hear of the death of Bindo; but the joy I feel, in feeing you, mitigates my forrow. He conducted him to his houfe, and gave orders to his fervants, that Giannetto fhould be obeyed, and ferved with more attention than had been paid to himfelf. He then delivered him the keys of his ready money: and told him, Son, spend this money, keep a table, and make yourself known: remember, that the more you gain the good will of every body, the more you will be dear to me.

Giannetto now began to give entertainments. He was more obedient and courteous to Anfaldo, than if he had been an hundred times his father. Every body in Venice was fond of him. Anfaldo could think of nothing but him; fo much was he pleafed with his good manners and behaviour.

See Dr. Farmer's note at the beginning of this play, from which it appears that Dr. Johnson was right in his conjecture. MALONE,