RCHANT OF VENICE. 'yle is even and easy, with few peculiarities of diction, or anomalies of construcand the serious fixes expectation. The probability of either one or the other on of two actions in one event is in this drama eminently happy. Dryden in connecting the two plots of his Spanish Friar, which yet, I believe, the Johnson. ad rich burghers of the flood, were, the pageants of the sea, erpeer the petty traffickers, NS REPRESENTED. that cart'sy to them, do them reverence, Salar. And not hethink me straight of dangerous rocks? That such a thing, bechanced, would make me sad? is sad to think upon his merchandize. o laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry, That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Gratiano, and Lorenzo: fare you well; merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? We two will leave you: but, at dinner-time, Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gra- A stage, where every man must play a part, Gra. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this present year: Ant. Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say, you are sad, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy Sleep, when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice ei remitto. Ait puella: Amen dico tibi, nullum denarium habebis-pone ergo manum in eum, ita ut sanguinem non effundas. Mercator vero videns se confusum abscessit: & sic vita militis salvata est, & nullum denarium dedit." Ista tria ostendit puellæ, & dixit: Si unum ex istis elegeris, in quo commodum & proficuum est, filium meum habebis. Si vero elegeris quod nec tibi nec aliis est commodum, ipsum non hababis." The young lady, after mature consideration of the vessels and their inscriptions, chuses the leaden, which being opened, and found to be full of gold and precious stones, the emperor says: " Bona puella, bene elegisti-ideo filium meum habebis." From this abstract of these two stories, I think it appears sufficiently plain that they are remote originals of the two incidents in this play. That of the caskets, Shakspeare might take from the English Gesta Romanorum, as Dr. Farmer has observed; and that of the bond might come to The other incident, of the casket, is in ch. xcix. of the same collection. A king of Apulia sends his daughter to be married to the son of an emperor of Rome. After some adventures (which are nothing to the present purpose), she is brought before the emperor, who says to her: "Puella, propter amorem filii mei multa adversa sustinuisti. Tamen si digna fueris ut uxor ejus sis cito probabo. Et fecit fieri tria vasa. PRIMUM fuit de auro purissimo & lapidibus pretiosis interius ex omni parte, & plenum ossibus mortuorum : & exterius erat sub-him from the Pecorone; but upon the whole scriptio; Qui me elegerit, in me inveniet quod meruit: SECUNDUM vas erat de argento puro & gemmis pretiosis, plenum terrá; & exterius erat subscriptio: Qui me elegerit, in me inveniet quod natura appetit. TERTIUM vas de plumbo plenum lapididus pretiosis interius & gemmis nobilissimis; & exterius erat subscriptio talis: Qui me elegerit, in me inveniet quod Deus dis ut. I am rather inclined to suspect, that he has fol lowed some hitherto unknown novelist, who had saved him the trouble of working up the two stories into one. TYRWHITT. This comedy, I believe, was written in the beginning of the year 1594. Meres's book was not published till the end of that year. MALONE MERCHANT OF VENICE. Of the Merchant of Venice the style is even and easy, with few peculiarities of diction, or anomalies of construction. The comic part raises laughter, and the serious fixes expectation. The probability of either one or the other Kory cannot be maintained. The union of two actions in one event is in this drama eminently happy. Dryden was much pleased with his own address in connecting the two plots of his Spanish Friar, which yet, I believe, the Johnson. critic will find excelled by this play. DUKE OF VENICE. PERSONS REPRESENTED. Suitors to Portia. PRINCE OF ARRAGON, ANTONIO, the Merchant of Venice. SALANIO, SALARINO, Friends to Antonio and Bassanio. GRATIANO, LORENZO, in Love with Jessica. SAYLOCK, a Jew. IBAL, a Jew, his Friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a Clown, Servant to Shylock. PORTIA, a rich Heiress. NERISSA, her Waiting muid. JESSICA, Daughter to Shylock. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, SCENE,-Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia, on the Continent. ACT I. SCENE I.-Venice. A Street. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. You mind is tossing on the ocean; That curt'sy to them, do them reverence, Salar. And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks? is sad to think upon his merchandize. For you, to laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry, [Janus, Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Gratiano, and Lorenzo: fare you well; merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Yon grow exceeding strange: must it be so? We two will leave you: but, at dinner-time, Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gra- A stage, where every man must play a part, Gra. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Ant. Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say, you are sad, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy Sleep, when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice [ears, [fools. And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark! [time: [more, Gra. Well, keep me company but two years Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Grat. Thanks, i'faith; 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 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 this same, To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, That you to-day promis'd to tell me of? Bass. Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one I shot his fellow of the self-same flight [shaft, The self-same way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth: and, by advent'ring both, I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof, Because what follows is pure innocence. I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth, That which I owe is lost; but if you please To shoot another arrow that self way Which you did shoot the first, 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. [time, Ant. You know me well; and herein spend but To wind about my love with circumstance: And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, In making question of my uttermost, Than if you had made waste of all I have: Then do but say to me what I should do, That in your knowledge may by me be done, And I am press'd unto it: therefore, speak. Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, Of wond'rous virtues; sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages: Her name is Portia; nothing undervalued To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia. Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth; For the four winds blow in from every coast Renowned suitors: and her sunny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' strand, And many Jasons come in quest of her. Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your mi series were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are and yet, for aught I see, they are us 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. Ner. They would do better, if well followed. 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 teach ing. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree: 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:-0 me, the word choose! I may neither choose whom Í would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curb'd 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 the 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 to thing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts, that he ca 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, And 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! [Le Bon Ner. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur 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 bim, I should marry twenty husbands if he woul |