LORENZO, in love with Jessica. SHYLOCK, a Jew. TUBAL, a Jew, his Friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a Clown, Servant to Shy lock. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Jailer, Servants, and other Attendants. SCENE, partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia, on the Continent. The Merchant of Venice ACT I SCENE I.-Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO. NTONIO. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad; It wearies me; you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, I am to learn; and such a want-wit sadness makes of me That I have much ado to know myself. Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean That curt'sy to them, do them reverence, As they fly by them with their woven wings. Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Salar. But I should think of shallows and of flats, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought That such a thing bechanced would make me sad? Is sad to think upon his merchandise. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it. Therefore, my merchandise makes me not sad. Ant. Fie, fie! Salan. Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kins man. Gratiano and Lorenzo, fare you well; We leave you now with better company. Salar. I would have stayed till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard; Bas. Good 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 SALANIO. Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found An tonio, We two will leave you; but at dinner time, I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. you. Gra. You look not well, Signior Antonio; You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it that do buy it with much care. Believe me, you are marvellously changed. Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, Gra. Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice Oh, my Antonio, I do know of these For saying nothing; who, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears But fish not with this melancholy bait, Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time. Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Ant. Fare you well: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i' faith; for silence is only commend able In a neat's tongue dried and a maid not vendible. [Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO. Ant. Is that anything now? Bas. Gratiano speaks an infinite 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 |