Hath sent you here this ring; and doth entreat Your company at dinner.

Por. That cannot be :

This ring I do accept most thankfully,

And so, I pray you, tell him: Furthermore,

I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house. Gra. That will I do.

Ner. Sir, I would speak with you:

I'll see if I can get my husband's, ring,

[to PORTIA. Which I did make him swear to keep for ever. Por. Thou may'st, I warrant : We shall have old swearing,

That they did give the rings away to men'; But we'll outface them, and outswear them too. Away, make haste; thou know'st where, I will tarry. Come, good Sir, will you show me to this house?

Ner.

[Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

Belmont. Avenue to Portia's House.

Enter LORENZO and JESSICA.

Lor. The moon shines bright:

In such a

night as this,

When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise; in such a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls,

And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.

Jes. In such a night,

Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay'd away.

Lor. In such a night,

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand

Upon the wild sea-banks, and way'd her love
To come again to Carthage.

Jes. In such a night,

Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs

That did renew old Aeson.

Lor. In such a night,

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew;
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.

Jes. And in such a night,

Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well;
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

Lor. And in such a night,

Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
Jes. I would out-night you,

come;

did no body

But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter a Servant.

Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the

Serv. A friend.

night?

Lor. A friend? what friend? your name, I pray you, friend?

Serv. Stephano is my name; and I bring word, My mistress will before the break of day

Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.

Lor. Who comes with her?

Serv. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. I pray you, is my master yet return'd?

Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from him.

But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,

And ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

Enter LAUNCELOT.

Laun. Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola, sola!

Lor. Who calls?

Laun. Sola! did you see master Lorenzo, and mistress Lorenzo! sola, sola!

Lor. Leave hollaing, man; here.

Laun. Sola! where? where?

Lor. Here.

Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news; my master will be here ere morning.

Lor Sweet soul,

And yet no matter;

[Exit.

My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, Within the house, your mistress is at hand; And bring your musick forth into the air. →→→ [Exit Servant. moon light sleeps upon this bank!

How sweet the

1

Here will we sit, and let the sounds of musick Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony.

Sit, Jessica: Look, how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold;
There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,

Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims:

Such harmony is in immortal souls;

But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. ----

Enter Musicians.

Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear.
And draw her home with musick.

Jes. I am never merry, when I hear sweet musick.

[Musick. Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive: For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud,

Which is the hot condition of their blood;
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of musick touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,
By the sweet power of musick: Therefore,

poet

the

Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;

Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage, But musick for the time doth change his nature: The man that hath no musick in himself,

Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,

And his affections dark as Erebus :

Let no such man be trusted,

musick.

Mark the

Enter PORTIA and Nerissa, at a distance.

Por. That light we see, is burning in my hafl.

How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner.

When the moon shone, we did not see
the candle.

Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less:
A substitute shines brightly as a King,
Until a King be by; and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters. Musick! hark!

Ner. It is your musick, Madam, of the house. Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect; Methinks, it sounds much sweeter than by day. Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, Madam. Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly 'as the lark,

When neither is, attended; and, I think,

The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.

How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise, and true perfection!
Peace, hoa! the moon sleeps with Endymion,
And would not be awak'd!

'Lor. That is the voice,

Ór I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

Por,

[Musick ceases.

He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo,

By the bad voice.