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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 sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again His tedious measures with the unbated fire That he did pace them first? All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d. How like a younker, or a prodigal, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!

Enter LORENZO. Salar. Here comes Lorenzo;-more of this here

after. 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.- Approach; Here dwells my father Jew:-Ho! who's within?

? Gray evidently caught the imagery of this passage in his Bard, but dropt the allusion to the parable of the prodigal —

• Fair laughs the morn and soft the zephyr blows,
While, proudly riding o'er the azure realm,
In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes ;
Youth on the prow, and Pleasure at the helm;
Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway,

That bush'd in grim repose expects his evening prey.' 3 So in Othello :

• The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets.' It has been observed by Mr. Steevens that the bark ought to be of the masculine gender, otherwise the allusion wants somewhat of propriety. This indiscriminate use of the personal for the neuter at least obscures the passage-he adds, ' A ship, however, is co nonly spoken of in the feminine gender.'

Enter JESSICA above, in boy's clothes.
Jes. Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,
Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue.

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed;
For who love I so much? And now who knows,
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that

thou art.
Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains.
I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
For I am much asham’d of my exchange;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot 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.
Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, good sooth, are too, too light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love;
And I should be obscurd.
Lor.

So are you, sweet,
Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once;
For the close night doth play the run-away,
And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast.

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With some more ducats, and be with you straight.

[Exit, from above. Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile", and no Jew.

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 proved herself;
4 A jest arising from the ambiguity of Gentile, which signifies

eathen and one well born,

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And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

Enter JESSICA, below.
What, art thou comel-On, gentlemen, away;
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.

[Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO.

Enter ANTONIO.
Ant. Who's there?
Gra. Signior Antonio?

Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano! where are all the rest?
"Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you:-
No masque to-night; the wind is come about,
Bassanio presently will go aboard :
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail, and gone to-night. [Exeunt.

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A Room in Portia's House.—- Flourish of Cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince of Morocco, and

both their Trains. Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince:Now make

your

choice. Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears; Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. The second, silver, which this promise carries; Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt;Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. How shall I know if I do choose the right?

Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince; If you choose that, then I am yours withal.

Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see, I will survey the inscriptions back again : What

says

this leaden casket? Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. Must give-For what? for lead ? hazard for lead ? This casket threatens : Men, that hazard all, Do it in hope of fair advantages: A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross; I'll then nor give, nor hazard, aught for lead. What

says the silver, with her virgin hue? Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves. As much as he deserves ?-Pause there, Morocco, And weigh thy value with an even hand : If thou be’st rated by thy estimation, Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough May not extend so far as to the lady; And yet to be afeard 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 stray'd no further, but chose here ?--Let's see once more this saying gravid in gold : Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her. From the four corners of the earth they come, To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint. The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now, For princes to come view fair Portia: The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar To stop the foreign spirits; but they come, As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia. One of these three contains her heavenly picture.

Is't like, that lead contains her ? 'Twere damnation,
To think so base a thought; it were too gross
To rib 1 her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think, in silver she's immur'd,
Being ten times undervaluedo to try'd gold?
O sinful thought! Never so 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 insculp’dupon;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within.-Deliver me the key;
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!

Por. There, take it, prince, and if my form lie there, Then I am yours.

[He unlocks the golden casket. Mor.

O hell! what have we here?
A carrion death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll: I'll read the writing.

All that glisters is not gold,
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold,
But my

outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms infold.
Had
you

been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscroll’d4:

Fare you well; your suit is cold.
Cold, indeed; and labour lost:

Then, farewell, heat; and welcome, frost.-
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. [Erit.

1 Enclose. ? i. e. if compared with tried gold. So before in Act i. Sc. 1,

Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued

To Cato's daughter.'
Engraven.
i.e. the answer you have got; namely, ' Fare you

well! VOL. III.

3

F

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