Live thou, I live; with much, much more dismay I view the fight, than thou, that mak'ft the fray.
A Song, whilft Baffanio comments on the cafkets to
Tell me, where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply.
It is engender'd in the eye,
With gazing fed, and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lies:
Let us all ring fancy's knell.
I'll begin it.
Ding, dong, bell.
All, Ding, dong, bell.
Baff. So may the outward fhows be least themselves; The world is ftill deceiv'd with Ornament. In law, what plea fo tainted and corrupt, But being season'd with a gracious voice, Obfcures the fhow of evil? in religion, What damned error, but fome fober brow Will bless it, and approve it with a text, Hiding the groffness with fair ornament? There is no vice fo fimple, but affumes Some mark of virtue on its outward parts. How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false As ftairs of fand, wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars; Who, inward searcht, have livers white as milk? And these affume but valour's excrement, To render them redoubted. Look on beauty, And you fhall fee 'tis purchas'd by the weight, Which therein works a miracle in nature, Making them lightest, that wear most of it.
So are thofe crispy fnaky golden locks,
Which make fuch wanton gambols with the wind
Upon fuppofed fairness, often known
To be the dowry of a fecond head,
The fkull, that bred them, in the fepulchre.
Thus Ornament is but the guilty shore
To a moft dang'rous fea; the beauteous fcarf
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
The feeming truth which cunning times put on
T'entrap the wifeft. Then, thou gaudy gold,
Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee:
Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
'Tween man and man: but thou, thou meagre lead,
Which rather threatneft, than doft promise aught,
Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence;
And here chufe I; joy be the confequence!
Por. How all the other paffions fleet to air,
As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair,
And fhudd' ring fear, and green-ey'd jealoufy.
O love, be moderate, allay thy echafy;
In measure rain the joy, fcant this excefs,
I feel too much thy bleffing, make it lefs,
For fear I furfeit.
Baff. What find I here?
[Opening the leaden cafket.
Fair Portia's counterfeit ? what Demy-god
Hath come fo near creation? move these eyes?
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,
Seem they in motion? here are fever'd lips
Parted with fugar breath; fo fweet a bar
Should funder fuch sweet friends: here in her hairs
The painter plays the spider, and hath woven
A golden mesh t' intrap the hearts of men,
Fafter than gnats in cobwebs: but her eyes,
How could he fee to do them? having made one,
Methinks, it fhould have power to steal both his,
And leave itfelf unfinish'd: yet how far
The substance of my praise doth wrong this fhadow
In underprizing it; fo far this fhadow
Doth limp behind the Subftance. Here's the fcrowl, The continent and summary of my fortune.
You that chufe not by the view,
Chance as fair, and chufe as true:
Since this fortune falls to you,
Be content, and feek no new.
If you be well pleas'd with this,
And hold your fortune for your bliss,
Turn you where your Lady is,
And claim her with a loving kiss.
A gentle scrowl; fair lady, by your leave;
I come by note to give, and to receive.
Like one of two contending in a Prize,
That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes;
Hearing applaufe and universal fhout,
Giddy in fpirit, gazing still in doubt,
Whether those peals of praise be his or no;
So (thrice-fair lady) ftand I, even so,
As doubtful whether what I fee be true,
Until confirm'd, fign'd, ratify'd by you.
Por. You fee me, lord Baffanio, where I stand,
Such as I am; tho' for myself alone,
I would not be ambitious in my Wish,
To wish myfelf much better; yet for you,
I would be trebled twenty times myself,
A thousand times more fair; ten thousand times
More rich; that, to ftand high in your account,
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account: but the full fum of me
Is fome of fomething, which, to term in grofs,
Is an unleffon'd girl, unfchool'd, unpractis'd:
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learn; more happy then in this,
She is not bred fo dull but fhe can learn ;
Happiest of all, is, that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed,
As from her lord, her governor, her King:
Myfelf, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted. But now I was the Lord
Of this fair manfion, mafter of my fervants,
Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now,
This houfe, thefe fervants, and this fame myself
Are yours, my lord: I give them with this ring,
Which, when you part from, lose or give away,
Let it prefage the ruin of your love,
And be my vantage to exclaim on you.
Baff. Madam, you have bereft me of all words,
Only my blood speaks to you
in my veins ;
And there is fuch Confufion in my pow'rs,
As, after fome oration fairly fpoke
By a beloved Prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleased multitude;
Where every something, being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, fave of joy
Expreft, and not expreft. But when this ring
Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence;
O, then be bold to fay, Bassanio's dead.
Ner. My lord and lady, it is now our time,
That have flood by, and seen our wishes profper,
To cry, good joy, good joy, my lord and lady!
Gra. My lord Baffanio, and my gentle lady,
I wish you all the joy that you can wish;
For, I am fure, you can with none from me:
And when your honours mean to folemnize
The bargain of your faith, I do befeech you,
Ev'n at that time I may be married too.
Baff. With all my heart, fo thou canst get a wife.
Gra. I thank your lordship, you have got me one.
My eyes, my lord, can look as fwift as yours;
You faw the mistress, I beheld the maid,
You lov'd, I lov'd; for intermiffion
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
Your fortune ftood upon the casket there;
And fo did mine too, as the matter falls:
For wooing here until I fweat again,
And fwearing, till my very roof was dry
With oaths of love; at laft, if promise last,
I got a promife of this fair one here,
To have her love, provided that your fortune
Atchiev'd her mistress.
Por. Is this true, Neriffa?
Ner. Madam, it is, so you ftand pleas'd withal. Baff. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith? Gra. Yes, faith, my lord.
Baff. Our Feaft fhall be much honour'd in your marriage.
Gra. We'll play with them, the first boy for a thousand Ducats.
Ner. What, and ftake down?
Gra. No, we shall ne'er win at that sport, and ftake down.
But who comes here? Lorenzo and his Infidel?
What, and my old Venetian friend, Salanio?
Enter Lorenzo, Jeffica, and Salanio. Baff. LORENZO and Salanio, welcome hither; If that the youth of my new Interest here Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave, I bid my very friends and country-men, (Sweet Portia) welcome.
Por. So do I, my Lord; they are intirely welcome. Lor. I thank your honour; for my part, my lord, My purpose was not to have feen you here;
But meeting with Salanio by the way,
He did intreat me, past all saying nay,
To come with him along.
Sal. I did, my lord,
And I have reafon for't; Signior Anthonio
[Gives Ballanio a Letter.
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