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II.

Dum. But what to me, my love? but what

Enter ARMADO. to me?

Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,Kath. A wife -A beard, fair health, and

Prin. Was not that Hector? honesty;

Dum. The worthy knight of Troy. With three-fold love I wish you all these three.

Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and tab, Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle

leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaque wife?

netta to hold the plough for her sweet love thres Kath. Not so, my lord ;-a twelvemonth and

years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you a day

(say:

hear the dialogue that the two learned mer I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers

have compiled, in praise of the owl and the Come when the king doth to my lady come,

cuckoo ? it should have followed in the end a Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.

our show. Dum. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till

King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so then. Kath. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn

Arm. Holla! approach. again.

Enter HOLOFERNES, NATRANIEL, MOTH, Long. What says Maria?

CoSTARD, and others. Mar. At the twelvemonth's end,

This side is Hiems, winter; this Ver, the I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. 1

spring; 'the one maintained by the owl, the Long. I'll stay with patience ; but the time

other by the cuckoo. Ver, begin. is long. Mar. The liker you ; few taller are so young.

Song. Biron, Studies my lady? mistress look on me, Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, Spring. When daisies pied, and violets blue, What humble suit attends thy answer there ;

And lady-smocks all silver-white, Impose some service on me for thy love.

And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón,

Do paint the meadows with delight, Before I saw you : and the world's large tongue The cuckoo then, on every tree, Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks;

Mocks married men, for thus sings he, Full of comparisons and wounding flouts ;

Cuckoo;
Which you on all estates will execute,

Cuckoo, cuckoo,--O word of fear,
That lie within the mercy of your wit: (brain; Unpleasing to a married ear!
To weed this wormwood from your fruitful
And, therewithal, to win me, if you please,
(Without the which I am not to be won.)
You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day

When shepherds pipe on oaten straus, Visit the speechless sick, and still converse

And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, With groaning wretches ; and your task shall

When turtles tread, and rooks, and dans, With all the fierce* endeavour of your wit, [be,

And maidens bleach their summer smocks, To enforce the pained impotent to smile.

The cuckoo then, on every tree, Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat

Mocks married men, for thus sings he, It cannot be; it is impossible: (of death?

Cuckoo; Mirth cannot move a soul in agony.

Cuckoo, cuckoo,-0 word of fear, Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing

Unpleasing to a married ear!
spirit,

III.
Whose influence is begot of that loose grace,
Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools : Winter. When icicles hang by the wall,
A jest's prosperity lies in the ear

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, Of him that hears it, never in the tongue

And Tom bears logs into the hall, Of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears,

And milk comes frozen home in pail. Deafʼd with the clamour of their own deart

When bloud is nipp'd, and ways be foul, groans,

Then nightly sings the staring orl, Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,

To-who; And I will have you, and that fault withal ;

To-whit, 10-who, a merry note,
But, if they will not, throw away that spirit,

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot:
And I shall find you empty of that fault,
Right joyful of your reformation.

Biron. A twelvemonth? well, befal what will I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. [befal, When all aloud the wind doth blow, Prin. Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take myl And coughing drowns the parson's sau, leave. (To the King.

And birds sit brooding in the snow, King. No, madam: we will bring you on

And Marian's nose looks red and rau, your way.

When roasted crabst hiss in the bowl, Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old Then nightly sings the staring owl, play;

To-who; Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy

To-whit, to-who, a merry note, Might well have made our sport a comedy.

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. King. Come, Sir, it wants a twelvemonth and Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh alter And then 'twill end.

[a day, the songs of Apollo. You, that way; we, this Biron. That's too long for a play.

way.

(Eredent * Vehement,

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Cool.

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THE MERCHANT OF VENICE.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

DUKE OF VENICE.

SALERIO, a Messenger from Venice. PRINCE OF MOROCCO, Suitors to Portia.

LEONARDO, Servant to Bassanio. PRINCE OF ARRAGON,

BALTHAZAR, Servants to Portia.
ANTONIO, the Merchant of Venice.

STEPHANO, S
BASSANIO, his Friend.
SALANIO,

Portia, a rich Heiress.
SALARINO, Friends to Antonio and Bassanio. NERISSA, her Waiting-maid.
GRATIANO,

JESSICA, Daughter to Shylock. LORENZO, in love with Jessica.

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court SHYLOCK, a Jew.

of Justice, Jailer, Servants, and other AtTUBAL, a Jew, his Friend.

tendants. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a Clown, Servant to Shylock.

SCENE, partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, OLD GOBBO, Father to Launcelot.

the Seat of Portia, on the Continent.

ACT I.

That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me

But tell not me; I know, Antonio
SCENE 1.-Venice.- A Street.

(sad?

Is sad to think upon his merchandise. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO. | Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for

Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad; My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, sit,
It wearies me; you say, it wearies you; Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, Upon the fortune of this present year:
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born, Therefore, my merchandise makes me not sad.
I am to learn ;

Salan. Why then you are in love.
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Ant. Fie, fie!
That I have much ado to know myself.

Salan. Not in love, neither? Then let's say, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;

you are sad, There, where your argosies* with portly sail,— Because you are not merry: and, 'twere as easy Like signiors and rich burghers of the flood, For you, to laugh, and leap, and say, you are Or, as it were the pageants of the sea,

merry,

Janus, Do over peer the petty traffickers,

Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed That curt'sy to them reverence,

Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: As they fly by them with their woven wings. Some that will evermore peep through their Salan. Believe me, Sir, had I such venture

eyes, The better part of my affections would sforth, And laugh, like parrots, at a bagpiper; Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still And other of such vinegar aspect, (smile, Plucking the grass, to know where sits the That they'll not show their teeth in way of wind;

[roads; Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. Peering in maps, for ports, and piers, and Enter Bassanio, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. And every object that might make me fear

1 Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,

kinsman, Would make me sad.

Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well; Salar. My wind, cooling my broth,

We leave you now with better company. Would blow me to an ague, when I thought

Salar. I would have staid till I had made What harm a wind too great might do at sea.

you merry, I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,

If worthier friends had not prevented me. But I should think of shallows and of flats;

1 Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard, And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand,

I take it, your own business calls on you, Vailingt her high-top lower than her ribs,

And you embrace the occasion to depart. To kiss her burial. Should I go to church,

| Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. And see the holy edifice of stone, [rocks? |

Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we And not bethink me straight of dangerous

laugh? Say, when? Which touching but my gentle vessel's side,

You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so ? Would scatter all her spices on the stream;

Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks ; And, in a word, but even now worth this,

[Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO. And now worth nothing?. Shall I have the Lor. Mylord Bassanio, since you have found thought

Antonio, To think on this; and shall I lack the thought, We two will leave you: but, at dinner time, * Shins nf laro hurthen

I pray you have in mind where we must meet,

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Lowering

ears,

Bass. I will not fail you.

Lic all unlock'd to your occasions. Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; Bass. In my school days, when I had loe. You have too much respect upon the world :

one shaft, They lose it, that do buy it with much care. I shot his fellow of the self-same flight Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd. The self-same way, wilh more advised watch, Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gra- To find the other forth; and by advent'ring both, tiano,

I oft found both; I urge this childhood proof, A stage, where every man must play a part, Because what follows is pure innocence. And mine a sad one.

I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth, Gra. Let me play the Fool:

That which I owe is lost: but if you please With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; To shoot another arrow that self way And let my liver rather heat with wine, Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. As I will watch the aim, or to find both, Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Or bring your latter hazard back again, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster? [dice And thankfully rest debtor for the first. Sleep when he wakes ? and creep into the jaun. Ant. You know me well; and herein spend By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,

but time, I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ;- To wind about my love with circumstance; There are a sort of men, whose visages | And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond; in making question of my uttermost, And do a wilful stillness* entertain,

Than if you had made waste of all I have: With purpose to be dressd in an opinion | Then do but say to me what I should do Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;

That in your knowledge may by me be done, As who should say, I am Sir Oracle,

And I am press'd* unto it: therefore, speak. And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark! Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, O, my Antonio, I do know of these,

And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, That therefore only are reputed wise, Of wondrous virtues ; sometimest from her eyes For saying nothing; who, I am very sure, | I did receive fair speechless messages : If they should speak, would almost damn those Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalued

[fools. To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia. Which, hearing them, would call their brothers, Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth; I'll tell thee more of this another time; For the four winds blow in from every coast But fish not, with this melancholy bait, Renowned suitors: and her sunny locks For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.

Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; Come, good Lorenzo :-Fare ye well, a while; Which makes her seat of Belmont, Coichos' I'll end my exhortation after dinner.

strand,
Lor. Well, we will leave you then till din- And many Jasons come in quest of her.
ner-time:

O my Antonio, had I but the means
I must be one of these same dumb wise men, To hold a rival place with one of them,
For Gratiano never lets me speak.

I have a mind presages me such thrift, Gra. Well, keep me company but two years That I should questionless be fortunate. more,

(tongue. Ant. Thou know'st that all my fortunes are Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own

at sea; Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Nor have I money, nor commodity, Gra. Thanks, i'faith ; for silence only is com- To raise a present sum: therefore go forth, mendable

[ble. Try what my credit can in Venice do; In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendi That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost,

Exeunt GRATIAno and LORENZO. To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. Ant. Is that any thing now?

Go, presently inquire, and so will I, Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of no- Where money is; and I no question make, thing, more than any man in all Venice: His To have it of my trust, or for my sake. reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two

Ercuni. bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when you have them, they SCENE II.-Belmont. A Room in Portu's are not worth the search.

House.
Ant. Well; tell me now,what lady is this same

Enter Portia and NERISSA.
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage
That you to-day promis'd to tell me of?

Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is Bass. 'Tis not unkown to you, Antonio,

a-weary of this great world. How much I have disabled mine estate,

Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your By something showing a more swelling port miseries were in the same abundance as your Than my faint means would grant continuance: good fortunes are: And yet, for aught I see, Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd they are as sick, that surfeit with too much, as From such a noble rate; but my chief care they that starve with nothing: It is no mean Is, to come fairly off from the great debts, happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean; Wherein my time, something too prodigal, supertluity comes sooner by white hairs, but Hath left me gaged: To you, Antonio,

competency lives longer. I owe the most, in money, and in love;

Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. And from your love I have a warranty

Ner. They would be better, is well followed. To unburden all my plots and purposes,

Por. If to do were as easy as to know what How to get clear of all the debts I owe. were good to do, chapels had been churches,

Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know and poor men's cottages, princes palaces. It And, if it stand, as you yourself still do, fit; is a good divine that follows his own instrucWithin the eye of honour, be assurd,

tions: I can easier teach twenty what were v purse, my person, my extremest means, good to be done, than be one of the twenty to

* Obstinate silence.

* Rande

follow mine own teaching. The brain may de-i Ner. How like you the young German, the vise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps duke of Saxony's nephew? over a cold decree: such a hare is madness the Por. Very vilely in the morning, when he is youth, to skip over the meshes of good counsel sober; and most vilely in the afternoon, when the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the he is drunk: when he is best, he is little worse fashion to choose me a husband :-0 me, the than a man; and when he is worst, he is little word, choose! I may neither choose whom I better than a beast : an the worst fall that ever would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the fell, I hope I shall make shift to go without will of a living daughter curb'd by the will of him. a dead father:-Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose cannot choose one, nor refuse none?

the right casket, you should refuse to perform Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and your father's will, if you should refuse to acholy men, at their death, have good inspira- cept him. tions; therefore, the lottery, that he hath de- / Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray rised in these three chests, of gold, silver, thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the and lead, (whereof who chooses his meaning, contrary casket : for, if the devil be within, chooses you,) will, no doubt, never be chosen and that temptation without, I know he will by any rightly, but one who you shall rightly choose it. I will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I love. But what warmth is there in your affec- will be married to a sponge. tion towards any of these princely suitors that Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having are already come?

any of these lords; they have acquainted me Por. I pray thee, overname them; and, as with their determination : which is indeed, to thou namest them, I will describe them: and, return to their home, and to trouble you with according to my description, level at my affec- no more suit; unless you may be won by some tion.

other sort than your father's imposition, deNer. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. pending on the caskets.

Por. Ay, that's a colt* indeed, for he doth Por. If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it will die as chaste as Diana, unless I be oba great appropriation to his good parts, that he tained by the manner of my father's will: I can shoe him himself: I am much afraid, my am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonalady his mother played false with a smith. ble; for there is not one among them but I dote

Ner. Then, is there the countyt Palatine. lon his very absence, and I pray God grant

Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who them a fair departure. should say, An if you will not have me, choose: Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear, father's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a he will prove the weeping philosopher when soldier, that came hither in company of the he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sad- marquis of Montferrat? ness in his youth, I had rather be married Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, so was he called. than to either of these. God defend me from | Ner. True, madam; he of all the men that these two!

ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best Ner. How say you by the French lord, Mon- deserving a fair lady. sieur le Bon?

Por. I remember him well; and I remember Por. God made him, and therefore let him him worthy of thy praise.-How now! what pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to news? be a mocker; But he! why, he hath a horse

Enter a SERVANT. better than the Neapolitan's; a better bad Serv. The four strangers seek for you, mahabit of frowning than the count Palatine: hedam. to take their leave: and there is a foreis every man in no man: if a throstle sing, hel,

runner come falls straight a capering; he will fence with

co; who brings word, the prince, his master, his own shadow: if I should marry him, I will be here to-night. should marry twenty husbands : If he would

Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with despise me, I would forgive him; for if he love

love so good a heart as I can bid the other four me to madness, I shall never requite him.

farewell, I should be glad of his approach: if Ner. What say you then to Falconbridge, he have the condition* of a saint, and the comthe young baron of England ?

plexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive Por. You know, I say nothing to him; for

me than wive me. Come, Nerissa.--Sirrah, he understands not me, nor I him: he hath

go before.-Whiles we shut the gate upon one neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you

wooer, another knocks at the door. [Ereunt. will come into the court and swear, that I have a poor penny-worth in the English. He is a SCENE III.Venice.--A public place. proper man's picture; But, alas! who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is

Enter Bassanio and SHYLOCK. suited! I think, he bought his doublet in Italy, Shy. Three thousand ducats,—well. his round hose in France, his bonnet in Ger Bass. Ay, Sir, for three months. many, and his behaviour every where.

Shy. For three months,-well. Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio neighbour?

shall be bound. Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in Shy. Antonio shall become bound,-well. him; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Bäss. May you stead me? Will you pleaEnglishman, and swore he would pay him sure me? Shall I know your answer? again, when he was able: I think, the French- Shy. Three thousand ducats for three months, man became his surety, and sealed under for and Antonio bound. another.

Bass. Your answer to that. * A beady, gay youngster.

Count:

* Temper, qualifiés.

Moroc

Shy. Antonio is a good man.

Ant. And what of him? did he take interest? Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the Shy. No, not take interest ; not, as you would eontrary?

Directly interest: mark what Jacob did. (say, Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no :—my meaning, in When Laban and himself were compromis'd, saying he is a good man, is to have you under- That all the eanlings which were streak'd and stand me, that he is sufficient : yet his means

pied,

(rank, are in supposition: he hath an argosy bound Should fall as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being to Tripolis, another to the Indies; I under- In the end of autumn turned to the rams: stand moreover upon the Rialto, he hath a And when the work of generation was third at Mexico, a fourth for England, and Between these woolly breeders in the act, other ventures he hath, squander'd abroad: The skilful shepherd peeld me certain wands, But ships are but boards, sailors but men: And, in the doing of the deed of kind, there be land-rats, and water-rats, water- He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes ; thieves, and land-thieves; I mean, pirates; Who, then conceiving, did, in eaning time, and then, there is the peril of waters, winds, Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were and rocks: The man is, notwithstanding, suf

Jacob's. ficient;-three thousand ducats ;-I think, I This was a way to thrive, and he was blest; may take his bond. .

| And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. Bass. Be assured you may.

Ant. This was a venture, Sir, that Jacob Shy. I will be assured, I may; and, that I

serv'd for; may be assured, I will bethink me: May I A thing not in his power to bring to pass, speak with Antonio?

But sway'd, and fashion'd, by the hand of Bass. If it please you to dine with us.

heaven. Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habi- Was this inserted to make interest good ? tation which your prophet, the Nazarite, con- Or is your gold and silver, ewes and rams? jured the devil into: I will buy with you, sell Shy. I cannot tell; I make it breed as fast:with you, talk with you, walk with you, and But note me, signior. so following ; but I will not eat with you, drink Ant. Mark you this, Bassanio, with you, nor pray with you. What news on The devil can cite scripture for his purpose. the Rialto?-Who is he comes here?

An evil soul, producing holy witness,
Enter ANTONIO.

Is like a villain with a smiling cheek;
Bass. This is signior Antonio.

| A goodly apple rotten at the heart: Shy. [Aside.] How like a fawning publican o, what a goodly outside falsehood hath! he looks!

Shy. Three thousand ducats,-'tis a good I hate him, for he is a Christian :

round sum.

(rate. But more, for that, in low simplicity,

Three months from twelve, then let me see the He lends out money gratis, and brings down Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to - The rate of usance here with us in Venice.

you? If I can catch him once upon the hip, | Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft, I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. In the Rialto you have rated me He hates our sacred nation; and he rails, About my monies, and my usances : Even there where merchants most do congre- Still have I borne it with a patient shrug;

For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe : On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift, You call memisbeliever, cut-throat dog, Which he calls interest: Cursed be my tribe, And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, If I forgive him !

| And all for use of that which is mine own. Bass. Shylock, do you hear!

Well then, it now appears you need my help: * Shy. I am debating of my present store; Go to then; you come to me, and you say, And, by the near guess of my memory, | Shylock, we would have monies; You say so; I cannot instantly raise up the gross

You, that did void your rheum upon my beard, of full three thousand ducats : What of that? And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe, Over your threshold ; monies is your suit. Will furnish me; But soft; How many months What should I say to you? Should I not say, Do you desire?-Rest you fair, good signior? Hath a dog money? is it possible,

(To ANTONIO. A cur can lend three thousand ducats? or Your worship was the last man in our mouths. Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key,

Ant. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor bor- With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleBy taking, nor by giving of excess, [row, Say this,

(ness, Yet, to supply the ripe wants* of my friend, Fair Sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; I'll break a custom ,- Is he yet possessed,t You spurn'd me such a day; another time How much you would ?

You call'd me-dog; and for these courtesies Shy. Ay, ay, three thousand ducats.

I'll lend you thus much monies. Ant. And for three months.

Ant. I am as like to call thee so again, Shy. I had forgot,--three months, you told | To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. me so.

If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not Well then, your bond; and, let me see, But As to thy friends; (for when did friendship hear you;

[row, A breed for barren metal of his friend) (take Methought you said, you neither lend, nor bor- But lend it rather to thine enemy; Upon advantage.

Who, if he break, thou may'st with better face Ant. I do never use it.

Exact the penalty. Shy. When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's Shy. Why, look you, how you storm! sheep,

I would be friends with you, and have your This Jacob from our holy Abraham was

(with, (As his wise mother wrought in his behalf,) Forget the shames that you have stained me The third possessor; ay, he was the third. Supply your present wants, and take no doit

love,

Wants which adroit no longer data. Tomek

gate,

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