That they'll not fhow their teeth in way of fmile, Though Neftor 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 strange; must it be so?

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, I 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 respect upon the world: They lofe 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 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, whose blood is warm within,

Face, together with an old and wrinkled one, being of Pan and Bacchus; of Saturn and Apollo, &c. These are not uncommon in Col-ections of Antiques; and in the Books of the Antiquaries, as Montau con, Spanheim, &c.

Sit

Sit like his grandfire cut in Alabaster?

Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish? I'll 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 ftanding pond;
And do a wilful ftillness entertain,
With purpose to be drest 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 fhould fpeak, 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 speak.

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

In a neats 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

I'll end my exhortation after dinner.] The Humour of this confift in its being an Allufion to the Practice of the Puritan Preachers of thofe Times; who being generally very long and tedious, were often forced to put off that Part of their Sermon called the Exhortation till after Dinner.

two

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.

Anth. Well; tell me now, what lady is the fame, To whom you fwore 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 estate, 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, 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 Bassanio, let me know it; And if it ftand, as you yourself still do, Within the eye of honour; be affur'd, My purse, my perfon, my extreameft means Lie all unlock'd to your occafions.

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

The self-fame way, with more advised watch,
To find the other forth; by ventring both,
I oft found both. I urge this child-hood 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 self 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 reft debtor for the firft.

[time,

Anth. You know me well; and herein spend but

Το

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 wafte of all I have.
Then do but fay to me, what I should do,
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak.

Baff. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And fhe is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wond'rous virtues; fometimes from her
I did receive fair fpeechlefs meffages;
Her name is Portia, nothing undervalu'd
To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia :

eyes

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 on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her feat of Belmont, Colchos' ftrand;
And many Jafons come in queft of her.

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 fhould queftionlefs be fortunate.

Anth. Thou know'ft, that all my fortunes are at fea,

Nor have I money, nor commodity

To raise a prefent fum; therefore, go forth;
Try what my credit can in Venice do;
That fhall be rack'd even to the uttermost,
To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia :
Go, prefently enquire, and fo will I,
Where money is; and I no question make,
To have it of my truft, or for my fake.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

S CENE II.

Changes to BELMONT.

Three Cafkets are fet out, one of gold, another of filter, and

Por.

B

another of lead.

Enter Portia and Neriffa.

Y my troth, Neriffa, my little body is weary of this great world.

Ner. You would be, fweet madam, if your miferies were in the fame abundance as your good fortunes are ; and yet, for aught I fee, they are as fick, that furfeit with too much, as they that ftarve with nothing; therefore it is no mean happinefs to be feated 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, chaples had been churches; and poor men's cottages, Princes' palaces. He is a good divine, that follows his own inftructions; I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than to be one of the twenty to follow my own teaching. The brain may devife laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree; fuch a hare is madness the youth, to fkip o'er the mefhes of good counsel the cripple! But this reafoning is not in fashion to chufe me a husband: O me, the word, chufe! I may neither chufe whom I would, nor refuse 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 inspirations; therefore, the lottery, that he hath devised in thefe three chefts of

gold,