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Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Ev'n in the force and road of casualty.
I will not chuse what many men defire,

Because I will not jump with common spirits, # And rank me with the barb'rous multitudes.

Why then to thee, thou silver treasure-house :
Tell me once more, what title thou doft bear.
Who chuseth me, fall get as much as he deserves;
And well said too, for who shall

go

about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
- Without the stamp of merit let none prefume

To wear an undeserved dignity:
O that estates, degrees, and offices,
Were not deriv'd corruptly, that clear honour
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
How many then should cover, that itand bare ?
How many be commanded, that command?
How much low peasantry would then be gleaned
From the crue feed of honour ? how much honour (13)
Pickt from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be dew varnilh'd : well, but to my choice :
Who chufeth me, shall get as much as be deferves.
I will assume defert; give me a key for this,
And inftantly unlock my fortunes here.
Por. Too long a paule for that which you find there:

(Unlocking the filver casket. (13)

how mach bonour Pick'd from the Chaff and ruin of the times,

To be new varnith’d.] Mr. Warburton very juftly obsery'd to me upon the confusion and disagreement of the Metapbors here; and is of opinion, that Shakespeare might have wrote;

To be new vanned. i. e. winnow'd, purged: from the French word, vanner; Which is deriv'd from the Latin, Vannus, ventilabrum, the Fann used for winnowing the chaff from the corn, This alteration, as he observes, reftores the metaphor to its integrity: and our poet frequently uses the fame thought. So, in the 2d part of Henry IV.

We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind,

That ev'n our corn hall seem as light as chaff.
And, again, in K. Henry V.

Such, and so finely boulted did' It thou seem,
for boulted fignifies fifted, refin'd. The correction is truly ingenious,
and probable : But as Sbakespeare is so loose and licentious in the blend-
ing of different metaphors, I have not ventur'd to disturb the text,

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Ar. What's here! the portrait of a blinking idiot,
Presenting me a schedule ? I will read it:
How much unlike art thou to Portia?
How much unlike my hopes and my deservings?
Who chulfes me, shall have as much as he deserves.
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head
Is that my prize ? are my deserts no better?

Por. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices,
And of opposed natures.
Ar. What is here?

The fire sev’n times tried this ;
Sev'n times tried that judgment is,
That did never chuse amiss.
Some there be, that shadows kiss;
Such have but a shadow's bliss:
There be fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd o'er, and so was this:
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your

head :
So be gone, Sir, you are sped.
Ar. Still more fool I shall appear,
By the time I linger here;
With one fool's head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.
Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath,
Patiently to bear my wroth.

Exit,
Por. Thus hath the candle fing'd the moth :
O these deliberate fools ! when they do chuse,
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.

Ner. The ancient saying is no heresy,
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Nerifa.

Enter a Servant,
Serv. Where is my lady?
Por. Here, what would my lord ?
Serv. Madam, there is alighted at your gate

Venetian, one that comes before
To fignify th' approaching of his lord,

From

A young

From whom he bringeth sensible regreets ;
To wit, besides commends and courteous breath,
Gifts of rich value ; yet, I have not seen
So likely an ambassador of love.
A day in April never came so sweet,
To show how cofly summer was at hand,
As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord.

Por. No more, I pray thee; I am half afraid,
Thou'lt say anon, he is some kin to thee;
Thou spend'ft such high-day wit in praising him:
Come, come, Neriffa, for I long to see
Quick Cupid's poft, that comes to mannerly.
Ner. Basanio, lord Love, if thy will it be! (14)

[Exeunt.

}

ACT

III.

SCENE,

a Street in Venice.

Enter Salanio and Solarino.

SOLARINO. N. what news on the

Ryalto ? Sal. Why yet it lives there uncheck'd, that Anthonio hath a ship of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow feas; the Godwins, I think, they call the place; a very dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcases of many, a tall thip lye bury'd, as they fay, if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.

Sola. I would she were as lying a gossip in that, as ever knapt ginger; or made her neighbours believe, le wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true,

(14) Baffanio Lord, love, if] Mr. Pope, and all the preceding editions have follow'd this pointing; as imagining, I suppose, that Basfanio lord means, Lord Basanio; but Lord must

be coupled to Love : as if she had said, imperial love, if it be thy will, let it be Bassanio • whom this messenger fore-runs.

without

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without any flips of prolixity, or croffing the plain high-way of talk, that the good Anthonio, the honett Anthonio O that I had a title good enough to keep his name company.

Sal. Come, the full stop.

Sola. Ha, what say'st thou ? why the end is, he hath lost a ship.

Sal. I would, it might prove the end of his loffes.

Sola. Let me say Amen betimes, left the devil cross ľny prayer, (15) for here he comes in the likeness of a Jow. How now, Shylock, what news among the mes chants ?

Enter Shylock. Shy. You knew (none so well, none fo well as you) of my daughter's fight.

Sal. That's certain ; 1, for my part, knew the taylor that made the wings she flew withal.

Sda. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledg'd, and then it is the complection of them all to leave the dam.

Shy. She is damn'd for it.
sel. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge.
Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel !
Sola. Out upon it, old carrion, rebels it at these yearst
Shy. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood.

Sal. There is more difference between thy flesh and hers, than between jet and ivory; more between your bloods, than there is between red wine and rhenish: but tell us, do you hear, whether Anthonio have had any loss at sea or no?

Shy. There I have another bad match; a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dares Icarce thew his head on the Ryalto; a beggar, that us’d to come so smug upon the mart! let him look on his bond; he was wont to call me usurer; let him look to his bond; he was wont to lend money for a christian courtesy ; let him look to his bond.

left the devil crofs my prayer, ] But the prayer was Salanio's. The other only, as clerk, says. Amen to it. We must therefore read mothy prayer.

Mr. Warburtona

(15)

ale

you poi

Sal. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flesh: what's that good for?

Shy. To bait fish withal. If it will feed nothing else, it will feed my revenge ; he hath disgrac'd me, and hinder'd me half a million, laught at my losses, mock'd at my gains, scorn'd my nation, thwarted my bargains, coold my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reason? I am a few. Hath not a Jew eyes ? hath not a few hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions ? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the fame diseases, heald by the same means, warm'd and coold by the faine winter and summer, as a chrißian is ? if you prick us, do we not bleed! if you tickle us, do we not laugh ? if fon us, do we not die ? and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a christian, what is his humility ? Revenge. If a christian wrong a few, what should his sufferance be by chriftian example i why Revenge. The villany, you teach me, I will execute; and it hall go hard, but I will better the instruction.

Enter a Servant from Anthonio. Ser. Gentlemen, my master Anthonjo is at his house, and defires to speak with you both. Sal. We have been up and down to seek him.

Enter Tubal. Sola. Here comes another of the tribe; a third cannot be match’d, 'unless the devil himself turn few.

[Exeunt Sala. and Solar. Shy. How pow, Tubal, what news from Genoua? haft thou found my daughter ?

Tub. I uften came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.

Shy. Why there, there, there, there! a diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort ! the curse never fell upon our nation 'till now, I never felt it 'till now; two thousand ducats in that, and other precious, precious jewels ! I would, my daughter were dead at

my

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