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and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.
Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced.
Por. If to do, were as easy 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 instructions. 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 devise laws for the blood ; but a hot temper leaps over a cold degree ; such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband.O me, the word choose! I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike ; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose 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 these three chests, of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who chooses his meaning, chooses you,) will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come ?
Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them; and according to my description, level at my affection.
Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince.
Por. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse ; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts, that he can shoe him himself
. I am much afraid my lady his mother played false with a smith.
Ner. Then, is there the county' palatine.
Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who should say, An if you will not have me, choose. He hears merry tales, and smiles not; I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, than to either of these. God defend me from these two!
Ner. How say you by the French lord, monsieur Le Bon ? Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass
for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker; but, he! why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan's; a better bad habit of frowning than the count palatine; he is every man in no man; if a throstle sing, he falls straight a capering; he will fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands; if he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if he love me to madness, I shall never requite him.
Ner. What say you then to Faulconbridge, the young baron of England ?
Por. You know, I say nothing to him; for he understands not me, nor I him; he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian;3 and you will come into the court and swear, that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's 4 picture; but, alas! who can converse with a dumb show ? how oddly he is suited! I think, he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behavior
Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbor?
Por. That he hath a neighborly charity in him ; for
1 This is an allusion to the count Albertus Alasco, a Polish palatine, who was in London in 1583.
2 A thrush; properly the missel-thrush.
3 A satire on the ignorance of young English travellers in Shakspeare's time.
4 A proper man is a handsome man.
he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again, when he was able. I think the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another.
Ner. How like you the young German, the duke of Saxony's nephew?
Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk. When he is best, he is little worse than a man; and when he is worst, he is little better than a beast; and the worst fall that ever fell, I hope, I shall make shift to go without him.
Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father's will, if you should refuse to accept him.
Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket; for, if the devil be within, and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do thing, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge.
Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords. They have acquainted me with their determination; which is, indeed, to return to their home, and to trouble you with no more suit; unless you may be won by some other sort than your father's imposition, depending on the caskets.
Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's will. I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable; for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I pray God grant them a fair departure.
Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your father's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, that came hither in company of the marquis of Montferrat?
Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so was he called.
any Ner. True, madam ; he, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady.
1 The duke of Bavaria visited London, and was made a knight of the Garter, in Shakspeare's time. Perhaps, in this enumeration of Portia's suitors, there may be some covert allusion to those of queen Elizabeth.
Por. I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of thy praise.—How now! What news?
Enter a Servant. Serv. The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take their leave, and there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who brings word, the prince, his master, will be here to-night.
Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his approach ; if he have the condition of a saint, and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. Come, Nerissa.Sirrah, go before.—Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door.
Venice. A public Place.
Enter BASSANIO and SHYLOCK.
Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.
Shy. Antonio shall become bound,—well. Bass. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your answer ?
Shy. Three thousand ducats, for three months, and Antonio bound.
Bass. Your answer to that.
Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the contrary?
Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no ;-my meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient. Yet his means are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I understand, moreover, upon the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and other ventures he hath, squandered abroad. But ships are but boards, sailors but men; there be land-rats, and water-rats, water-thieves, and land-thieves; I mean, pirates; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks. The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient; -three thousand ducats ;-I think I may take his bond.
Bass. Be assured you may.
Shy. I will be assured I may; and that I may be assured, I will bethink me. May I speak with Antonio ?
Bass. If it please you to dine with us.
Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into. I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto?- Who is he comes here?
Bass. This is seignior Antonio.
Shylock, do you hear ?