That they did give the rings away to men ; But we'll outface them, and outswear them too. 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, Jes. Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew, Lor. In such a night, Stood Dido with a willow in her hand Jes. In such a night, In such a night, Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs, Lor. Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew; Jes. And in such a night, Lor. And in such a night, Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, Jes. I would out-night you did nobody come: But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. Enter STEPHANO. Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night? Lor. A friend? what friend? your name I pray you, friend? Steph. 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 Lor. Who comes with her? Steph. 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. 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. [Exit. Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter:-Why should we go in? [Exit Stephano. Sit, Jessica: Look, how the floor of heaven There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st, Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins: 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, Jes. I am never merry, when I hear sweet music. (Music.) 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, If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, By the sweet power of music: Therefore, the poet Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music. Enter PORTIA and NERISSA, at a distance. Por. That light, we see, is burning in my hall. 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: Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. (Music ceases.) Lor. That is the voice, Or I am much deceived, of Portia. Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo, By the bad voice. Lor. Dear lady, welcome home. Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare, Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. Are they return'd? Lor. Madam, they are not yet; But there is come a messenger before, Por. (A tucket sounds.) Lor. Your husband is at hand, I hear his trumpet: We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not. Por. This night, methinks, is but the day-light sick, It looks a little paler; 'tis a day, Such as the day is when the sun is hid. Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their Followers. Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes, If you would walk in absence of the sun. Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light; For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, And never be Bassanio so for me; But God sort all!-You are welcome home, my lord. Bass. I thank you, madam: give welcome to my friend. This is the man, this is Antonio, To whom I am so infinitely bound. Por. You should in all sense be much bound to him; For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house: It must appear in other ways than words, (Gratiano and Nerissa seem to talk apart.) Gra. By yonder moon, I swear you do me wrong. In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk: Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. Por. A quarrel, ho, already! what's the matter? Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring That she did give me; whose posy was, Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value? That you would wear it till your hour of death; And that it should lie with you in your grave: Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, You should have been respective, and have kept it. Gave it a judge's clerk!-but well I know The clerk will ne'er wear hair on his face that had it. Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy, No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk; A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee; I could not for my heart deny it him. Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, To part so slightly with your wife's first gift; A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger, And riveted so with faith unto your flesh. I gave my love a ring, and made him swear Never to part with it; and here he stands : I dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it, Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief; An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it. Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, And swear I lost the ring defending it. (Aside.) Gra. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away Unto the judge that begg'd it, and, indeed, Deserved it too; and then the boy, his clerk, That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine: And neither man nor master would take aught But the two rings. Por. What ring gave you, my lord? I would deny it; but you see my finger Ner. Nor I in yours, Sweet Portia, |