water-rats, water-chieves, and land-thieves; I mean, pirates; and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks: The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient-three thousand ducats ;I think, I may take his bond.

Bass. Be assured you may.

Shy. I will be assured I may; and that I may be assured I will bethink me: May I speak with Antonio ?

Bass. If it please you to dine with us. Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habitation which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured the devil into: I will buy with you, sell with you, talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto ?-Who is he comes here?

Enter Antonio.

Bass. This is signior Antonio.

Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob sery'd
for;

A thing not in his power to bring to pass,
But sway'd,and fashion'd,by the hand of heaven.
Was this inserted to make interest good?
Or is your gold and silver, ewes and rams?
Shy. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast :-
But note me, signior.
Ant.
Mark you this, Bassanio,
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul, producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek;
A goodly apple rotten at the heart;
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
Shy. Three thousand ducats,-'tis a good round

sum.

Three months from twelve, then let me see the

rate.

Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you?

Shy. [Aside.] How like a fawning publican he Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft,

looks!

I hate him for he is a Christian :

But more, for that, in low simplicity,

He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
Even there where merchants most do congregate,
On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift,
Which he calls interest: Cursed be my tribe,
If I forgive him!

Bass.

Shylock, do you hear?

Shy. I am debating of my present store;
And, by the near guess of my memory,
1 cannot instantly raise up the gross

Of full three thousand ducats: What of that?
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
Will furnish me: But soft; How many months
Do you desire ?-Rest you fair, good signior;
[7o Antonio.
Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
Ant. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow,
By taking, nor by giving of excess,
Yet, to supply the ripe wants of my friend,
I'll break a custom :-Is he yet possess'd,
How much you would?
Shy.

Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.
Ant. And for three months.
Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told me

So.

In the Rialto you have rated me
About my monies, and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug;
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe:
You call me-misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears, you need my help:
Go to then; you come to me, and you say,
Shylock, we would have monies; You say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; monies is your suit.
What shall I say to you? Should I not say,
Hath a dog money; is it possible,

A cur can lend three thousand ducats? or
Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness,
Say this,-

Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You call'd me-dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much monies?

Ant. I am as like to call thee so again,
To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too.
If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not

As to thy friends; (for when did friendship take
A breed for barren metal of his friend?)
But lend it rather to thine enemy;
Who, if he break, thou may'st with better face
Exact the penalty.
But Shy.
Why, look you, how you storm!
I would be friends with you, and have your love,
bor-Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
Supply your present wants, and take no doit
Ofusance for my monies, and you'll not hear me:
This is kind I offer.

Shy. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's
sheep,

This Jacob from our holy Abraham was
(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf,)
The third possessor; ay, he was the third."
Ant. And what of him? did he take interest?
Shy. No, not take interest; not, as you would

say,

Directly interest: mark what Jacob did.
When Laban and himself were compromis'd,
That all the eanlings which were streak'd, and
pied,

Should fall as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being rank
In the end of autumn turned to the rams:
And when the work of generation was
Between these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilful shepherd peel'd me certain wands,
And in the doing of the deed of kind,

He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes;
Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time
Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were

cob's.

This was a way to thrive, and he was blest;
And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not.

Ant.
This were kindness.
Shy. This kindness will I show:-
Go with me to a notary, seal me there
Your single bond; and, in a merry sport,
If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum, or sums, as are
Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit
Be nominated for an equal pound

Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body pleaseth me.
Ant. Content, in faith; I'll seal to such a bond,
And say, there is much kindness in the Jew.
Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me,
I'll rather dwell in my necessity.

Ant. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it;
Within these two months, that's a month before
This bond expires, I do expect return
Of thrice three times the value of this bond.
Shy. O father Abraham, what these Christians

are;

Ja-Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this;
If he should break his day, what should I gain
By the exaction of the forfeiture 7

By the exaction of the forfeiture ?
A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man,
Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say,
To buy his favour, I extend this friendship:
If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;

And, for my love, I pray you wrong me not.

SCENE 11. Venice. A Street.

Enter Launcelot Gobbo.

Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use
Shy. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;
Give him direction for this merry bond,
And I will go and purse the ducats straight;
See to my house, left in the fearful guard
Of an unthrifty knave; and presently
I will be with you.
Ant.

[Exit.

Hie thee, gentle Jew.
This Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind.
Bass. I like not fair terms, and a villain's mind.
Ant. Come on: in this there can be no dismay,
My ships come home a month before the day.
[Exeunt

ACT II.

SCENE 1. Belmont. A Room in Portia's
House. Flourish of Cornets.

Enter the Prince of Morocco, and his Train;
Portia, Nerissa, and other of her Attendants.
Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun,
To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred.
Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
And let us make incision for your love,
To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine
Hath fear'd the valiant; by my love, I swear,
The best-regarded virgins of our clime
Have lov'd it too: I would not change this hue,
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes;
Besides, the lottery of my destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing:
But, if my father had not scanted me,
And hedg'd me by his wit, to yield myself
His wife, who wins me by that means I told
you,

Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair,
As any comer I have look'd on yet,
For my affection.

Mor.
Even for that I thank you;
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets,
To try my fortune. By this scimitar,-
That slew the Sophy, and a Persian prince,
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,-
I would out-stare the sternest eyes that look,
Out-brave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she bear,
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey,
To win thee, lady: But, alas the while!
If Hercules, and Lichas, play at dice
Which is the better man, the greater throw
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand :
So is Alcides beaten by his page:

And so may I, blind fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.
Por.
You must take your chance;
And either not attempt to choose at all,
Or swear, before you choose,-if you choose
wrong,

Never to speak to lady afterward

Laun. Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew, my master: The fiend is at mine elbow; and tempts me, saying to me, Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or your legs, take the start, run away: My conscience says, no; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo; or, as aforesaid, honest Launcelot Gobbo: do not run; scorn running with thy heels: Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack; via! says the fiend; away! says the fiend, for the heavens; rouse up a brave mind, says the fiend, and run. Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me,-my honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son,-or rather an honest woman's son; for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of taste:-well, my conscience says, Launcelot, budge not; budge, says the fiend; budge not, says my conscience: Conscience, say 1, you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well: to be ruled by my conwho, (God bless the mark!) is a kind of devil; science, I should stay with the Jew my master, and, to run away from the Jew, 1 should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself: Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnation; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew: the fiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are at your commandment, I will run.

Enter old Gobbo, with a basket.

Gob. Master, young man, yon, I pray you; which is the way to master Jew's? Laun. [Aside.] O heavens, this is my true begotten father? wno, being more than sandblind, high-gravel blind, knows me not :-I will try conclusions with him.

Gob. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's?

Laun. Turn up on your right hand, at the next turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house.

Gob. By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him, or no?

Laun. Talk you of young master Launcelot ? -Mark me now; [aside;] now will I raise the waters-Talk you of young master Launcelot ?

Gob. No master, sir, but a poor man's son: his father, though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live. Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young master Launcelot.

Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir. Laun. But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you: Talk you of young master Launcelot ?

Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. Laun. Ergo, master Launcelot; talk not of master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman (according to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters three, and such branches of learning) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would say, in plain terms, gone to heaven. Gob. Marry, God forbid I the boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop. Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a staff, or a prop ?-Do you know me, father? Gob. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman: but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy [Exeunt.(God rest his soul !) alive, or dead?

In way of marriage; therefore be advis'd.
Mor. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my
chance,

Por. First, forward to the temple; after dinner
Your hazard shall be made.
Mor.
Good fortune, then ![Cornets.
To make me blest, or cursed'st among men.

Laun. Do you not know me, father?
Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind, I know you

not.

Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father, that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son: Give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's son may; but, in the end, truth will out.

Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up; I am sure, you are not Launcelot, my boy.

Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be.

Bass. I know thee well, thou hast obtain'd
thy suit:

Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day,
And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment,
To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
The follower of so poor a gentleman.
Laun. The old proverb is very well parted
between my master Shylock and you, sir; you
have the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough.
Bass. Thou speakest it well: Go, father, with
thy son:-

Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
My lodging out :-Give him a livery

[To his followers. More guarded than his fellows: See it done. Laun. Father, in ;-I cannot get a service, Gob. I cannot think you are my son. no: I have ne'er a tongue in my head.-Well; Laun. I know not what I shall think of that:-[Looking on his palm.] if any man in Italy but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man; and, I am have a fairer table; which doth offer to swear sure, Margery, your wife, is my mother. upon a book, I shall have good fortune. Go to, Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be here's a simple line of life! here's a small trifle sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own of wives: Alas, fifteen wives is nothing; eleven flesh and blood. Lord worshipp'd might he be ! widows, and nine maids, is a simple coming-in what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more for one man and then, to 'scape drowning hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my thill-horse thrice; and to be in peril of my life with the has on his tail. edge of a feather-bed :-here are simple 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.-Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.

Laun. It should seem then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am sure he had more hair on his tail, than I have on my face, when I last saw him.

Gob. Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present; flow 'gree you now?

Laun. Well, well; but, for mine own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till 1 have run some ground: my master's a very Jew: Give him a present! give him a halter: I am famish'd in his service: you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come; give me your present to one master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries; If I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground.-O rare fortune! here comes the man; to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer.

[Exeunt Launcelot and old Gobbo. Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this:

These things being bought, and orderly be
stow'd,

Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
My best-esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.
Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein.
Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Where is your master?
Leon.

Yonder, sir, he walks. [Exit Leonardo.

Gra. Signior Bassanio,-
Bass. Gratiano!
Gra. I have a suit to you.
Bass.

You have obtain'd it.

Enter Bassanio, with Leonardo, and other Gra. You must not deny me; I must go with

Followers.

Bass. You may do so;-but let it be so hasted, that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock: See these letters deliver'd; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. [Exit a Servant.

Laun. To him, father.

Gob. God bless your worship.
Bass. Gramercy; Would'st thou aught with
Ine ?

Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man; that would, sir, as my father shall specify,

Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve

Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and I have a desire, as my father shall specify,

Gob. His master and he (saving your worship's reverence) are scarce cater-cousins: Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being I hope an old man, shall frutify unto you,

you to Belmont.

Bass. Why, then you must ;-But hear thee,
Gratiano;

Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice ;-
Parts, that become thee happily enough,
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;
But where thou art not known, why, there they

show

Something too liberal;-pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild be-
haviour,
I be misconstrued in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.
Gra.

Signior Bassanio, hear me:
If I do not put on a sober habit,
Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look de-

murely;

Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say, amen;
Use all the observance of civility,
Like one well studied in a sad ostent
To please his grandam, never trust me more.
Bass. Well we shall see your bearing.
Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not
gage me

Bass.

No, that were pity;

Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would bestow upon your worship; and my suit is,-By what we do to-night. Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as your worship shall know by this I would entreat you rather to put on honest old man: and, though I say it, though Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends old man, yet poor man, my father. That purpose merriment: But fare you well, Bass. One speak for both ;-What would you? have some business. Laun. Serve you, sir.

Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, sir.

I

Gra. And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest; But we will visit you at supper-time. [Exeunt

The same. A Room in Shylock's House.

Enter Jessica and Launcelot.

Jess. I am sorry, thou wilt leave my father so;
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness:
But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee.
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest:
Give him this letter; do it secretly,

And so farewell; I would not have my father
See me talk with thee.

Laun. Adieu!-tears exhibit my tongue.-Most beautiful pagan,-most sweet Jew! If a Christian did not play the knave, and get thee, I am much deceived; But adieu! these foolish drops do somewhat drown my manly spirit; adieu!

[Exit.

Jess. Farewell, good Launcelot.-
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me,
To be ashamed to be my father's child!
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
1 am not to his manners: 0 Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise I shall end this strife;
Become a Christian, and thy loving wife. [Exit.

SCENE IV. The same. A Street.
Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and Salanio.
Lor. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time;
Disguise us at my lodging, and return
All in an hour.

Gra. We have not made good preparation.
Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch-

bearers.

Salan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd;

And better, in my mind, not undertook.

Jes. Call you? what is your will?
Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:
There are my keys:-But wherefore should I go
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian.-Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house :-I am right loath to go;
There some ill a brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Laun. I beseech you, sir, go; my young mas
ter doth expect your reproach.
Shy. So do I his.

Laun. And they have conspired together.-1
will not say, you shall see a masque: but if you
do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell
a bleeding on Black-Monday last, at six o'clock
' the morning, falling out that year on Ash
Wednesday was four year in the afternoon.
Shy. What! are there masques? Hear you me,
Jessica?

Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum,
And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife,

Lor. 'Tis now but four o'clock; we have two Clamber not you up to the casements then,
hours

Christian.

Lor. Hold here, take this:-tell gentle Jessica,
I will not fail her;-speak it privately; go.-
Gentlemen,
[Exit Launcelot.
Will you prepare you for this masque to-night?
I am provided of a torch-bearer.
Salar. Ay, marry, I'll begone about it straight.
Salan. And so will 1.
Lor.
Meet me, and Gratiano,
At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.
Salar. "Tis good we do so.

[Exeunt Salar. and Salan. Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica? Lor. I must needs tell thee all; She hath directed,

How I shall take her from her father's house:
What gold, and jewels, she is furnish'd with;
What page's suit she hath in readiness.

If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake:
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,-
That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
Come, go with me; peruse this, as thou goest:
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer.

[Exeunt.

Nor thrust your head into the public street,
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces;
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements;
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house.-By Jacob's staff, I swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night;
But I will go.-Go you before me, sirrah;
Say, I will come.

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 Launcelot. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring,

ha?

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 sits down ?
Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unabated 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 scarfed bark puts from her native bay,,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!

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.-Approach:
Here dwells my father Jew:-Ho! who's within?

Enter Jessica above, in boy's clothes.

Jes. 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. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness
that thou art.

Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the
pains.

I am 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.

see,

I will survey the inscriptions back again:
What says this leaden casket?
Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all
he 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 nor give, nor hazard, aught for lead.
What says the silver, with her virgin hue?
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he de-

serves,

As much as he deserves ?-Pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand:
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
And yet to be afeard of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of myself.
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 these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no further, but choose here ?-
Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold:
So are you, sweet, Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, good sooth, are too, too
light.

Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love;
And I should be obscur'd.

Lor.

Even 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 Bassanio's feast.
Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With some more ducats, and be with you straight.
[Erit, 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 she is, as she hath proved herself;
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

Enter Jessica, below.

What, art thou come?-On, gentlemen, away;
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
[Erit with Jessica and Salarino.
Enter Antonio.

Ant. Who's there?
Gra. Signior Antonio?
Ant. Fie, 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,
Bassanio presently will go aboard:

i have sent twenty out to seek for you.
Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight,
Than to be under sail, and gone to-night.
[Exeunt.

desire.

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 saint.
The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia:
The watery 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 see fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
Is't like, that lead contains her? "Twere dam-
nation,

To think so base a thought: it were too gross
To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think, in silver she's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalued to try'd gold?
O sinful thought! never so rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold. They have in En
gland

A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold; but that's insculp'd upon;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within.-Deliver me the key;
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may !
Por. There, take it, prince, and if my form
lie there,
Then I am yours. [He unlocks the golden casket
Mor.
O hell! what have we here?
A carrion death, within whose empty eye