SCENE, partly at Venice; and partly at Belmont, the

feat of Portia

Anth.

upon the continent.

A C T I.

I'

SCENE I.

A fireet in Venice.

Enter Anthonio, Solarino, and Salanio.
N footh, I know not why I am so fad.
It wearies me; you fay, it wearies you.
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What ftuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn

And fuch a want-wit fadnefs makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.

Sal. Your mind is toffing on the ocean;
There, where your Argofies with portly fail,
Like figniors and rich burghers on the flood,
Or as it were the pageants of the sea,
Do overpeer the petty traffickers,

That curtly to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.

Sola. Believe me, Sir, had 1 fuch venture forth, The better part of my affections would

Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grafs, to know where fits the wind;
Peering in maps for ports, and peers, and roads;
And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me fad.

Sal. My wind, cooling my broth,

Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at fea.
I fhould not fee the fandy hour-glafs run,
But I fhould think of fhallows and of flats;
And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in fand,
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs,
To kifs her burial. Should I go to church,
And fee the holy edifice of stone;
And not bethink me ftrait of dang'rous rocks;
Which, touching but my gentle veffels fide,
Would scatter all the fpices on the stream,
Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks;
And, in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
To think on this, and fhall I lack the thought,
That fuch a thing, bechance'd, would make me fad ?
But tell not me;-I know, Anthonio

Is fad to think upon his merchandise.

Anth. 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

Upon the fortune of this present year:

Therefore my merchandize makes me not fad.
Sola. Why then you are in love.

Anth. Fie, fie!

Sola. Not in love neither! then let's fay, you're fad, Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy For you to laugh and leap, and fay, you're merry, Because you are not fad. "Now, by two-headed Janus, "Nature hath fram'd ftrange fellows in her time: "Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, VOL. II.

K

"And

"And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper;

"And others of fuch vinegar-afpect,

"That they'll not fhow their teeth in way of fmile, “Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable."

Enter Baffanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.

Sal. Here comes Baffanio, your most noble kinfman, Gratiano and Lorenzo: fare ye well;

We leave ye now with better company.

Sola I would have ftaid till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard:
I take it, your own business calls on you,
And you embrace th' occafion to depart.
Sal. Good morrow, my good Lords.

Baff. Good Signiors both, when shall we laugh? fay, when?

You grow exceeding ftrange; must it be fo?
Sal We'll make our leifures to attend on yours.
Sola. My Lord Baffanio, fince you've found Anthonio,
We two will leave you; but at dinner-time,
Ι pray you have in mind where we must meet.
Baff. I will not fail you. [Exeunt Solar. and Sala.
Gra. You look not well, Signior Anthonio;
You have too much refpect upon the world :
They lofe it, that do buy it with much care.
Believe me you are marvellously change'd.

Anth. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,
A ftage, where every man must play his part,
And mine's 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, whofe 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 speaks), There are a fort of men, whofe vifages "Do cream and mantle like a standing pond; And do a wilful ftillness entertain,

"With purpose to be drefs'd in an opinion "Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; "As who fhould fay, I am Sir Oracle, "And when I ope my lips let no dog bark! "O my Anthonio, I do know of thofe, "That therefore only are reputed wife, "For faying nothing;" who, I'm 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 fifh 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 speak.

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the found of thine own tongue. Anth. Farewel; I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for filence is only commend

able

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 bufhels of chaff; you fhall feek all day ere you find them; and when you

have them, they are not worth the fearch.

Anth. 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?

Baf. 'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio,

How much I have difabled mine eftate,
By fhewing fomething 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
Is to come fairly off from the great debts,

* Alluding to what is faid in the gefp, that whosoever shall say to bis bro:ber, Thou fool, fhall be in danger of bell-fire.

Wherein my time, fomething too prodigal,
Hath left me gaged to you, Anthonio,
I owe the most in money, and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty
T'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 ftand, as you yourfelf still do,
Within the eye of honour, be assur'd,
My purfe, my perfon, my extremeft means,
Lie all unlock'd to your occafions.

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

The felf-fame way, with more advised watch,
To find the other forth; by vent'ring both,
I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof,
Because what follows is pure innocence.
I owe you much, and, like a witless youth,
That which I owe is loft; but if you please
To fhoot another arrow that felf way

Which you did fhoot the firft, I do not doubt,
As I will watch the aim, or to find both,
Or bring your latter hazard back again,

And thankfully rest debtor for the first.

Anth. You know me well; and herein spend but

time,

To wind about my love with circumftance;

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

In making queftion of my uttermoft,

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 prefs'd unto it: therefore, fpeak.
Baff. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And the is fair, and, fairer than that word,,
Of wond'rous virtues. Sometime 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 ign'rant of her worth;
For the four winds blow in from every coaft
Renowned fuitors; and her funny locks

Hang