BASSANIO, his kinsman and SOLANIO, fien GRATIANO, | LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a clown, LEONARDO, servant to Bas. tonic and Bas- STEPHANO, LORENZO, in love with Jessica. TUBAL, a Jew, his friend. servants to Portia. PORTIA, a rich heiress. NERISSA, her waiting-maid. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants, and other Attendants. SCENE-Partly at Vere, and partly at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on the Continent. ACT I. SCENE I. Venice. A street. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO. And such... want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; There, where your argosies with portly sail, That court'sy to them, do them reverence, Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Salar. And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought Is sad to think upon his merchandise. Ant. 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 Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. Ant. Fie, he! Salar. Not in love neither? Then let's say you're sad Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy For you to laugh, and leap, and say you're merry, That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Solan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well: We leave you now with better company. Salar. I would have stay'd till I had made you merry, I take it, your own business calls on you, Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Sala. Good morrow, my good lords. Bass. Goo signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when? You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. [Exeunt Salarino and Solanio Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you've found Antonio, We two will leave you: but, at dinner-time, I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. 1 Gra. Y look not well, Signior Antonio; Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; Gra. Let me play the fool: Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,- With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!" That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing; when, I'm very sure, If they should speak, 'twould almost damn those ears, But fish not, with this melancholy bait, Come, good Lorenzo.- Fare ye well awhile Lor. Well, we will leave you, then, till dinner-time : I must be one of these same dumb wise men, For Gratiano never lets me speak. Gra. Well, keep mc company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i'f th; for silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo. Ant. Is that any thing now? Bass. Gratiano sreaks an inûnite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons 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. Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is the same Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, |