13

To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
And you shall see 'tis purchas'd by the weight;
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lightest that wear most of it:
So are those crisped snaky golden locks,
Which make such wanton gambols with the wind,
Upon supposed fairness,14 often known

To be the dowry of a second head,
The skull that bred them, in the sepulchre.1
Thus ornament is but the guiled shore 16
To a most dangerous sea, the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian; beauty," in a word,

The seeming truth which cunning times put on
T'entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold,
Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee; 18
Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
"Tween man and man: but thou, thou meagre lead,
Which rather threatenest than dost promise aught,
Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence; 19
And here choose I. Joy be the consequence!

Por. How all the other passions fleet to air,
As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embrac'd despair,
And shuddering fear, and green-ey'd jealousy!
O love, be moderate; allay thy ecstasy;

18 Another quibble upon light. See page 125, note 14. Here, however, it is between light as opposed to heavy, and light in the sense of vanity. 14 That is, imagined or imputed fairness.

15 The Poet has often expressed a strong dislike of the custom, then in vogue, of wearing false hair. His 68th Sonnet has a passage very like that in the text:

"Thus is his cheek the map of days outworn,

When beauty liv'd and died as flowers do now;
Before the golden tresses of the dead,

The right of sepulchres, were shorn away,

To live a second life on second head;

Ere beauty's dead fleece made another gay."

16 Guiled for guiling; that is, beguiling. The Poet often thus uses the passive form with an active sense, and vice versa. In Act i. scene 3, of this play, we have beholding for beholden.

17 Such is the only arrangement I can make up my mind to, in this troublesome passage. Both the old and recent editions give it "veiling an Indian beauty." As printed in the text, the only objection I can think of to it is, that Bassanio is speaking of ornament, not beauty. But I cannot see that this amounts to much; for he has just used "beauteous scarf" to express a form of ornament.

18 Midas was a mythological personage who asked of God Bacchus that whatever he touched might be turned into gold. The request being granted, and all his food turning to gold in the eating, he implored Bacchus to revoke

the favour.

19 The old copies have paleness instead of plainness. But the Poet has just spoken of silver as pale, and he would hardly apply the same epithet to lead. Moreover, plainness makes a right antithesis to eloquence.

In measure rain thy joy; scant this excess!
I feel too much thy blessing; make it less,
For fear I surfeit!

Bass. [Opening the leaden Casket.] What find I here? Fair Portia's counterfeit ! 20 What demi-god

Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?

Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,

Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips,
Parted with sugar breath: so sweet a bar

Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs
The painter plays the spider; and hath woven

A golden mesh t' entrap the hearts of men,
Faster than gnats in cobwebs.
But her eyes!
How could he see to do them? having made one,
Methinks it should have power to steal both his,
And leave itself unfurnish'd.21 Yet look, how far
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow
In underprizing it, so far this shadow
Doth limp behind the substance.
The continent and summary of

Here's the scroll,

my fortune:

22

You that choose not by the view,
Chance as fair, and choose as true!
Since this fortune falls to you,
Be content and seek 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 scroll.

- 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 applause and universal shout,
Giddy in spirit, still gazing, in a doubt
Whether those peals of praise be his or no;
So, thrice fair lady, stand I, even so;

[Kissing her.

20 Counterfeit anciently signified a likeness, a resemblance. So, in The Wit of a Woman, 1634: "I will see if I can agree with this stranger for the drawing of my daughter's counterfeit." And Hamlet calls the pictures he shows to his mother, "The counterfeit presentment of two brothers."

21 That is, unfurnished with a companion or fellow. In Fletcher's Lover's Progress, Alcidon says to Clarangé, on delivering Lidian's challenge, which Clarangé accepts:

"You are a noble gentleman.

Will't please you bring a friend? we are two of us,
And pity either, sir, should be unfurnish'd."

22 Continent, in old English, is simply that which contains something.

As doubtful whether what I see be true,
Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.

Por. You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
Such as I am though for myself alone

I would not be ambitious in my wish,

To wish myself much better; yet for you

I would be trebled twenty times myself;

A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich;
That, only to stand high in your account,

I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account: but the full sum of me

Is sum of something; 23 which, to term in gross,
Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractis'd:
Happy in this, she is not yet so old

But she may learn; then happier in this,
She is not bred so dull but she can learn ;
Happiest of all, in that her gentle spirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed,
As from her lord, her governor, her king.
Myself and what is mine to you and yours
Is now converted: but now I was the lord
Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
Queen o'er myself; and even now, but now,
This house, these servants, and this same myself,
Are yours, my lord: I give them with this ring;
Which when you part from, lose, or give away,
Let it presage the ruin of your love,

And be my vantage to exclaim on you.

Bass. Madam, you have bereft me of all words;
Only my blood speaks to you in my veins :
And there is such confusion in my powers,
As, after some oration fairly spoke

By a beloved prince, there doth appear
Among the buzzing pleased multitude;
Where every something, being blent together,
Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy,

Express'd and not express'd. But when this ring
Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence:
O, then be bold to say, Bassanio's dead!

Ner. My lord and lady, it is now our time,
That have stood by, and seen our wishes prosper,
To cry, good joy: Good joy, my lord and lady!

23 So the quartos; the folio has nothing, which does not seem to cohere very well with the words, "which, to term in gross." Following the intelligent editors of the "Globe Edition," I insert a dash before something, to indicate hesitation on the fair speaker's part for a term with which to describe herself modestly, yet without any affectation of modesty.

Gra. My Lord Bassanio and my gentle lady,
I wish you all the joy that you can wish;
For I am sure you can wish none from me:
And, when your honours mean to solemnize
The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you,
Even at that time I may be married too.

24

Bass. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.
Gra. I thank your lordship, you have got me one.
My eves, my lord, can look as swift as yours:
You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid;
You lov'd, I lov'd; for intermission
No more pertains to me, my lord, than you.
Your fortune stood upon the caskets there,
And so did mine too, as the matter falls;
For wooing here, until I swet again,
And swearing, till my very roof was dry
With oaths of love, at last, if promise last, —
I got a promise of this fair one here,
To have her love, provided that your fortune
Achiev'd her mistress.

Por.

Is this true, Nerissa?

Ner. Madam, it is, so you stand pleas'd withal.

Bass. And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?

Gra. Yes, 'faith, my lord.

Bass. Our feast shall be much honour'd in your marriage. Gra. But who comes here? Lorenzo, and his infidel?

What, and my old Venetian friend, Solanio? 25

Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SOLANIO.

Bass. Lorenzo and Solanio, 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 countrymen,

Sweet Portia, welcome.

24 We are not to understand by this that Nerissa is merely a servant-maid or waiting-woman to Portia: she holds the place of companion or friend, and Portia all along treats her as such. They are as nearly equals in rank, as Bassanio and Gratiano are, who are a pair of friends, not master and servant. Nor does it conflict with this, that Gratiano speaks of Portia as "her mistress;" for he is in a position that requires him to plead his present cause with a good deal of modesty and deference, lest he should seem to have abused his privilege of accompanying Bassanio on this loving voyage.

25 In the old copies, this latter name is given as Salerio; and modern editions generally regard him as a distinct person from Solanio; one who appears nowhere but in this scene. But Gratiano's speaking of him as "my old Venetian friend" naturally refers us to the man who has hitherto been known as Solanio; so that I have little scruple in adopting the change made by Mr. Dyce. None of the old copies gives any list of the persons rep

resented.

Por.

So do I, my lord:

They are entirely welcome.

Lor. I thank your honour. For my part, my lord,
My purpose was not to have seen you here;
But meeting with Solanio by the way,
He did entreat me, past all saying nay,

To come with him along.

Sol.

And I have reason for't.
Commends him to you.

Bass.

I did, my lord,

Signior Antonio

[Gives BASSANIO a Letter.

Ere I ope his letter,

I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth.
Sol. Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind;
Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there
Will show you his estate.

Gra. Nerissa, cheer yond stranger; bid her welcome.—
Your hand, Solanio: What's the news from Venice?
How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio?

I know he will be glad of our success:

We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.

Sol. Would you had won the fleece that he hath lost!

Por. There are some shrewd contents in yond same paper,"

That steal the colour from Bassanio's cheek:

Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world
Could turn so much the constitution

Of any constant man. What, worse and worse!
With leave, Bassanio; I am half yourself,

And I must have the half of any thing

That this same paper brings you.

O sweet Portia!

Bass.
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
That ever blotted paper. Gentle lady,
When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman :
And then I told you true; and yet, dear lady,
Rating myself at nothing, you shall see
How much I was a braggart. When I told you
My state was nothing, I should then have told you
That I was worse than nothing; for, indeed,
I have engag'd myself to a dear friend,
Engag'd my friend to his mere enemy,

To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady,-
The paper as the body of my friend,

And every word in it a gaping wound,

26 Shrewd, in old language, is sharp, biting. See page 95, note 21

26