Laun. I will go before, sir.- Mistress, look out at window for all this; There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit LAUN. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jess. His words were, Farewell, mistress; nothing else. Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder, Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day 8 More than the wild-cat. Drones hive not with me; A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit. Jess. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter lost. [Exit. Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masked. Gra. This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo Desir'd us to make stand. Sal. His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. 9 Sal. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly Gra. That ever holds: Who riseth from a feast That he did pace them first? All things that are, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 7 The worth of a Jew's eye was the price with which the Jews used to buy themselves off from mutilation. The expression became proverbial, and was kept up long after its original meaning was lost. 8 This use of patch is said to have sprung from the motley or patched dress worn by professional Fools. Hence a general term of contempt. Sc, in a Midsummer-Night & Dream, iii. 2: "A crew of patches, rude mechanicals, that work for bread upon Athenian stalls." 9 The allusion seems to be to the doves by which Venus's chariot s drawn. 10 Obliged faith is plighted faith. With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the [wanton] wind! 11 Enter LORENZO. Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; 12 When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, Enter JESSICA above, in Boy's Clothes. Jess. Who are you? Tell me for more certainty, Jess. Lorenzo, certain; and my love indeed; For whom love I so much? And now who knows But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? Lor. Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art. Jess. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. 18 I'm glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. And I should be obscur'd. Lor. So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. But come at once; For the close 15 night doth play the run-away, Jess. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself [Exit, from above. 11 This passage well illustrates how the Poet's text ought to be printed, especially the verse. In chased, scarfed, and embraced, the verse plainly requires the ed to be a distinct syllable; the contrary of which as plainly holds in enjoy'd, hugg'd, over-weather'd, and beggar'd. See page 103, note 25. 12' Long tarrying. 18 Exchange of clothes. 14 A pun implied, between light in a material and light in a moral sense. 15 Close is secret, what conceals or keeps dark. Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile,16 and no Jew. Enter JESSICA, below. What, art thou come?-On, gentlemen; away! [Exit, with JESSICA and SALARINO Enter ANTONIO. Ant. Who's there? Gra. Signior Antonio? Ant. Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest? I have sent twenty out to seek for you. Gra. I'm glad on't: I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail, and gone to-night. [Exeunt. SCENE VI. Belmont. A Room in PORTIA'S House. Flourish of Cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince of Morocco, and both their Trains. Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble Prince. - Now make your choice. Mor. The first, of gold, which this inscription bears: If Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince: you choose that, then I am yours withal. 16 Gratiano is disguised with a mask, and in swearing by his hood he implies a likening of himself to a hooded monk swearing by his monastic character. There is also a play on the word gentile, which sign ties both a heathen and one well-born; perhaps referring also to her generosity as contrasted with her father's avarice. Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see; I will survey th' inscriptions back again. What says this leaden casket? Must give, Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath. A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross; One of these three contains her heavenly picture. Is't like that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation, 1 Christians often made long pilgrimages to kiss the shrine of a saint, that is, the place where a saint's bones were enshrined. And Portia, because she enshrines so much excellence, though still but "a traveller between life and death," is compared to such a hallowed shrine. 2 A wilderness of indefinite extent south of the Caspian Sea. 8 That is, lead were unworthy even to enclose her cerements, or her shroud. The Poet elsewhere has rib in the sense of enclose or protect: in Cymbeline, iii. 1, he speaks of England as "Neptune's park, ribbed and paled in with rocks unscaleable and roaring waters." It would seem that obscure Or shall I think in silver she's immur'd, Was set in worse than gold. They have in England Por. There, take it, Prince; and if my form lie there, Then I am yours. Mor. [He unlocks the golden Casket. O Hell! what have we here? A carrion Death," within whose empty eye [Reads.] All that glisters is not gold; Often have you heard that told: Cold indeed, and labour lost; Then, farewell heat, and welcome frost! Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. [Exit with Train. Por. A gentle riddance. — Draw the curtains, go: Let all of his complexion choose me so. SCENE VII. Venice. A Street. Enter SALARINO and SOLANIO. Sal. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail : With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship I'm sure Lorenzo is not. [Exeunt. here was meant to have the first syllable long. The Poet has many instances of like usage. However, it is to be noted that he often allows and even prefers a Dibrach or a Spondee in any part of the line. 4 This is said to have been just the ratio of silver and gold in the year 1600. Now it is about 1 to 15. 5 The angel appears to have been the national coin in Shakespeare's time. The custom of stamping an angel upon the coin is thus explained by Verstegan, in his Restitution of Decayed Intelligence: "The name of Engel is yet at this present in all the Teutonic tongues as much as to say, an Angel; and if a Dutchman be asked how he would in his language call an Angellike-man, he would answer, ein English-man' 6 A human skull from which the flesh has all decayed. |