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.

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 should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandfire cut in alabaster?

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 fpeaks ;-
There are a fort of men, whofe vifages

* Do cream and mantle, like a ftanding pond;
And do a wilful ftillness entertain,

With purpose to be dreft in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say, I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
O, my Anthonio, I do know of these,
That therefore only are reputed wife,

the Fool:-the character of one, fuch as was exhibited in the old farces.

f With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come ;]

" fome Dick,

"That fmiles his cheek in years.

LOVE'S LABOUR LOST, A&t V, S. 2.

Biron.

Do cream and mantle,]-alluding to the manner in which the film

of fcalding milk extends itself.

For

For faying nothing; who, I am very fure,

If they should speak, would almost 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 melancholy bait,
For this fool's 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.

gear.

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the found of thine own tongue. Anth. Fare well: I'll grow a talker 'for this Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for filence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dry'd, and a maid not vendible.

[Exeunt Gra. and Loren.

Anth. Is that any thing now? Baff. Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, 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 fearch.

Auth. 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:
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
From fuch a noble rate; but my chief care

call their brothers, fools.]-and thereby incur that judgment.
for this gear,]-that fpeech of yours.

G 4

Is,

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 purposes,
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 extreameft means,
Lye all unlock'd to your occafions.

Baff. In my school-days, when I had loft one fhaft,
I fhot his fellow of the felf-fame flight

The self-same way, with more advised watch,
To find the other; and by adventuring 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 you please
To fhoot another arrow that felf way

Which you did shoot 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 first.

Anth. You know me well; and herein fpend but time, To wind about my love with circumstance;

And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong,

In making queftion of my uttermost,

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 I am preft unto it: therefore, speak.

k

k preft]-I am ready, prompt to undertake it.

Baff

Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And the is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wond'rous virtues; 'fometimes 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 coast
Renowned fuitors: and her funny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her feat of Belmont, Colchos' strand,
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 should questionless be fortunate.

Anth. Thou know'ft, that all my fortunes are at fea; Nor have I money, nor commodity

To raise a present fum: therefore go forth,

Try what my credit can in Venice do ;
That fhall be rack'd, even to the uttermoft,
To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.
Go, presently enquire, and fo will I,
Where money is; and I no question make,
To have it of my trust, or for my fake.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

II.

A Room in Portia's Houfe at Belmont.

Enter Portia and Neriffa.

Por. By my troth, Neriffa, my little body is aweary of this great world.

1 fometimes &c.]-fome time ago; have occafionally received.

of my trust, or for my fake.]-on my bond, or out of friendship.

Ner.

Ner. You would be, fweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: And yet, for aught I fee, they are as fick, that furfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing: It is no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean; fuperfluity comes fooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. Por. Good fentences, and well pronounc'd.

Ner. They would be better, if well follow'd.

Por. If to do, were as eafy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages, princes' palaces. It is a good divine, that follows his own inftructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devife laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree: fuch a hare is madnefs the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in fashion to chufe me a husband:-O me, the word chufe! I may neither chuse whom I would, nor refufe whom I diflike; fo is the will of a living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead father:Is it not hard, Neriffa, that I cannot chufe one, nor refuse none?

Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men, at their death, have good infpirations; therefore, the lottery, that he hath devised in these three chefts, of gold, filver and lead, (whereof who chufes his meaning, chuses you) will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one "who you fhall rightly love. But what warmth is there your affection towards any of these princely fuitors that are already come?

in

Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou nam'ft

who you shall rightly love.]—who fhall love you rightly; or whom you fhall rightly love.

them,