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His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in ;
Perhaps, I will return immediately;
Do, as I bid you.
Shut the doors after you ; faft bind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.

[Exit, Jef. Farewel ; and if my fortune be not croft, I have a father, you a daughter, loft.

[Exit.

SCENE, the STREET.

Enter Gratiano and Salanio in masquerade. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo defired us to make a stand.

Sal. His hour is almoft past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

Sal. O, ten times faster Venus' pidgeons fly (7)
To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited !

Gra. That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast,
With that keen appetite that he fits down?
Where is the horse, that doth untread again
His tedious measures with th' unbated fire,
That he did pace them first? all things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,
The skarfed bark puts from her native bay,

(7) O, ten times fafter Venus' Pidgeons fly.) This is a very odd Image, of Venus's Pidgeons flying to seal the Bonds of Love. The Sense is obvious, and we know the Dignity due to Venus's Pidgeons. There was certainly a Joke intended. here, which the Ignorance, or Boldness, of the firft Transcri. bers have murder'd: I doubt not, but Shakespeare wrote the Line thus :

0, ten times faster Venus' Widgeons fly

To seal &c. For Widgeon is not only the filly Bird so call'd, but fignifies likewise, metaphorically, a fully Fellow, as Goose, or Gudgeon.. does now.

Mr, Warburton.

Hugg'd

Hugg'd ånd embraced by the strumpet wind !
How like the prodigal doth the return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the ftrumpet wind!

Enter Lorenzo.
Sal. Here comes Lorenzo : more of this hereafter.

Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode ; Not I, but my affairs, have made you

wait ;
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then ; come, approach ;
Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within ?

Jessica above, in boy's cleaths.
Yes. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll swear, that I do know your tongue.

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jes. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed ; For who love I so much ? and now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours ?

Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness, that thou

Yes. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains.
I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me;
For I am much asham'd of my exchange ;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jes. What must I hold a candle to my shames ?
They in themselves, goodsooth, are too, too, light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,
And I should be obscur'd.

Lor. So are you, sweet,
Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once
For the close night doth play the run-away,
And we are staid for at Bafanio's feast.
Jef. I will make fact the doors, and gild my self

art.

With some more ducats, and be with

you

strait.

[Exit from above, Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew,

Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily ;
For she is wise, if I can judge of her ;
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true ;
And true lhe is, as she hath prov'd her self;
And therefore like her self, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

Enter Jeffica, to them.
What, art thou come ? on, gentlemen, away ;
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. [Exit.

Enter Anthonio.
Anth. Who's there?
Gra. Signior Anthonio,

Anth. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest ?
'Tis nine o'clock, our friends all stay for you ;
No masque to night; the wind is come about,
Basario presently will go aboard;
I have - sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I'm glad on't; I desire no more delight Than to be under fail, and gone to night. Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Belmont. Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains.

O, draw aside the curtains, and discover

Por.

Now make your choice. [Three caskets are discover'd.

Mor. The first of gold, which this inscription bears, Who chuseth me, small gain what many men defre. The second filver, which this promise carries, Who chuseth mi, fall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. How shall I know, if I do chuse the right?

Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; If you chufe that, then I am yours withal.

Mor,

Mor. Some God direct my judgment ! let me fee, I will survey th' inscriptions back again; What says this leaden casket ? Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all be hath. Must give, for what? for lead ? hazard for lead ? This casket threatens. Men, that hazard all, Do it in hope of fair advantages : A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross ; I'll then not give, nor hazard, aught for fead. What says the filver, with her virgin hue? Who chuseth me, fall get as much as he deserves. As much as he deserves ? pause there, Morochius ; And weigh thy value with an even hand. If thou be'st rated by thy estimation, Thou doft deserve enough; and yet enough May not extend so far as to the lady ; And yet to be afraid of my deserving, Were but a weak disabling of my felf. As much as I deserve why, that's the lady : I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, In graces, and in qualities of breeding : But

more than thefe, in love I do deserve. What if I stray'd no farther, but chose here? Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold. Who chuseth me, shall gain what many men defire. Why, that's the lady ; all the world desires her ; From the four corners of the earth they come To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing faint. Th' Hyrcanian deserts, and the vastie wilds Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares now, For Princes to come view fair Portia. The wat'ry kingdom, whose ambitious head Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar To stop the foreign spirits ; but they come, As o'er. a brook, to fee fair Portia, One of these three contains her heav'nly picture. Is't like, that lead contains her ? 'twere damnation, To think so base a thought : it were too gross To rib her searcloth in the obscure grave. Or thall I think, in filver she's immur'd,

Being ten times undervalu'd to try'd gold ?
O finful thought, never fo rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold ! they have in England
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that's insculpt upon :
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lyes all within. Deliver me the key ;
Here do I chuse, and thrive I as 'I may !
Por. There take it, Prince, and if my form lye

there, Then I am yours.

(Unlocking the gold casket.
Mor. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death,
Within whose empty eye there is a scrowl :
I'll read the writing.

All that glifers is not gold,
Often have you heard that told ;
Many a man his life hath Gold,
But my outside to behold.
Gilded wood may worms infold :
Had you been as wife as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been infcrold;

Fare you well, your fuit is cold.
Mor. Cold, indeed, and labour loft:
Then farewel, heat; and welcome, frost :
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave : thus losers part.

Por. A gentle riddance : draw the curtains ; go Let all of his complexion chuse me fo. [Exeunt.

[Exit.

SCENE changes to Venice.

Enter Solarino and Salanio.
Sal. HY, man, I faw Bassanio under fail ;

With him is Gratiano gone along ;
And in their ship, I'm sure, Lorenzo is not.

Sola. The villain Jew with outcries rais’d the Duke, Who went with him to search Balanio's ship.

Sal.

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