Ar. What is here?The fier seauen times tried this,Seauen times tried that iudgement is,That did neuer choose amis,Some there be that shadowes kisse,Such haue but a shadowes blisse:There be fooles aliue IwisSiluer'd o're, and so was this:Take what wife you will to bed,I will euer be your head:So be gone, you are sped
Ar. Still more foole I shall appeareBy the time I linger here,With one fooles head I came to woo,But I goe away with two.Sweet adue, Ile keepe my oath,Patiently to beare my wroath
Por. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moath:O these deliberate fooles when they doe choose,They haue the wisdome by their wit to loose
Ner. The ancient saying is no heresie,Hanging and wiuing goes by destinie
Por. Come draw the curtaine Nerrissa.Enter Messenger.
Mes. Where is my Lady?Por. Here, what would my Lord?Mes. Madam, there is a-lighted at your gateA yong Venetian, one that comes beforeTo signifie th' approaching of his Lord,From whom he bringeth sensible regreets;To wit (besides commends and curteous breath)Gifts of rich value; yet I haue not seeneSo likely an Embassador of loue.A day in Aprill neuer came so sweeteTo show how costly Sommer was at hand,As this fore-spurrer comes before his Lord
Por. No more I pray thee, I am halfe a-feardThou wilt say anone he is some kin to thee,Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him:Come, come Nerryssa, for I long to seeQuicke Cupids Post, that comes so mannerly
Ner. Bassanio Lord, loue if thy will it be.
Exeunt.
Actus Tertius.
Enter Solanio and Salarino.
Sol. Now, what newes on the Ryalto? Sal. Why yet it liues there vncheckt, that Anthonio hath a ship of rich lading wrackt on the narrow Seas; the Goodwins I thinke they call the place, a very dangerous flat, and fatall, where the carcasses of many a tall ship, lye buried, as they say, if my gossips report be an honest woman of her word
Sol. I would she were as lying a gossip in that, as euer knapt Ginger, or made her neighbours beleeue she wept for the death of a third husband: but it is true, without any slips of prolixity, or crossing the plaine high-way of talke, that the good Anthonio, the honest Anthonio; o that I had a title good enough to keepe his name company! Sal. Come, the full stop
Sol. Ha, what sayest thou, why the end is, he hath lost a ship
Sal. I would it might proue the end of his losses
Sol. Let me say Amen betimes, least the diuell crosse my praier, for here he comes in the likenes of a Iew. How now Shylocke, what newes among the Merchants? Enter Shylocke.
Shy. You knew none so well, none so well as you, ofmy daughters flight
Sal. That's certaine, I for my part knew the Tailorthat made the wings she flew withall
Sol. And Shylocke for his owne part knew the bird was fledg'd, and then it is the complexion of them al to leaue the dam
Shy. She is damn'd for it
Sal. That's certaine, if the diuell may be her Iudge
Shy. My owne flesh and blood to rebell
Sol. Out vpon it old carrion, rebels it at these yeeres
Shy. I say my daughter is my flesh and bloud
Sal. There is more difference betweene thy flesh and hers, then betweene Iet and Iuorie, more betweene your bloods, then there is betweene red wine and rennish: but tell vs, doe you heare whether Anthonio haue had anie losse at sea or no? Shy. There I haue another bad match, a bankrout, a prodigall, who dare scarce shew his head on the Ryalto, a begger that was vsd to come so smug vpon the Mart: let him look to his bond, he was wont to call me Vsurer, let him looke to his bond, he was wont to lend money for a Christian curtsie, let him looke to his bond
Sal. Why I am sure if he forfaite, thou wilt not take his flesh, what's that good for? Shy. To baite fish withall, if it will feede nothing else, it will feede my reuenge; he hath disgrac'd me, and hindred me halfe a million, laught at my losses, mockt at my gaines, scorned my Nation, thwarted my bargaines, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies, and what's the reason? I am a Iewe: Hath not a Iew eyes? hath not a Iew hands, organs, dementions, sences, affections, passions, fed with the same foode, hurt with the same weapons, subiect to the same diseases, healed by the same meanes, warmed and cooled by the same Winter and Sommer as a Christian is: if you pricke vs doe we not bleede? if you tickle vs, doe we not laugh? if you poison vs doe we not die? and if you wrong vs shall we not reuenge? if we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that. If a Iew wrong a Christian, what is his humility, reuenge? If a Christian wrong a Iew, what should his sufferance be by Christian example, why reuenge? The villanie you teach me I will execute, and it shall goe hard but I will better the instruction. Enter a man from Anthonio.
Gentlemen, my maister Anthonio is at his house, and desires to speake with you both
Sal. We haue beene vp and downe to seeke him.Enter Tuball.
Sol. Here comes another of the Tribe, a third cannotbe matcht, vnlesse the diuell himselfe turne Iew.
Exeunt. Gentlemen
Shy. How now Tuball, what newes from Genowa? hastthou found my daughter?Tub. I often came where I did heare of her, but cannotfinde her
Shy. Why there, there, there, there, a diamond gone cost me two thousand ducats in Franckford, the curse neuer fell vpon our Nation till now, I neuer felt it till now, two thousand ducats in that, and other precious, precious iewels: I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the iewels in her eare: would she were hearst at my foote, and the duckets in her coffin: no newes of them, why so? and I know not how much is spent in the search: why thou losse vpon losse, the theefe gone with so much, and so much to finde the theefe, and no satisfaction, no reuenge, nor no ill luck stirring but what lights a my shoulders, no sighes but a my breathing, no teares but a my shedding
Tub. Yes, other men haue ill lucke too, Anthonio as Iheard in Genowa?Shy. What, what, what, ill lucke, ill lucke
Tub. Hath an Argosie cast away comming from Tripolis
Shy. I thanke God, I thanke God, is it true, is it true?Tub. I spoke with some of the Saylers that escapedthe wracke
Shy. I thanke thee good Tuball, good newes, goodnewes: ha, ha, here in Genowa
Tub. Your daughter spent in Genowa, as I heard, onenight fourescore ducats
Shy. Thou stick'st a dagger in me, I shall neuer see mygold againe, fourescore ducats at a sitting, fourescore ducats
Tub. There came diuers of Anthonios creditors in my company to Venice, that sweare hee cannot choose but breake
Shy. I am very glad of it, ile plague him, ile torturehim, I am glad of it,Tub. One of them shewed me a ring that hee had ofyour daughter for a Monkie
Shy. Out vpon her, thou torturest me Tuball, it was my Turkies, I had it of Leah when I was a Batcheler: I would not haue giuen it for a wildernesse of Monkies
Tub. But Anthonio is certainely vndone
Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true, goe Tuball, see me an Officer, bespeake him a fortnight before, I will haue the heart of him if he forfeit, for were he out of Venice, I can make what merchandize I will: goe Tuball, and meete me at our Sinagogue, goe good Tuball, at our Sinagogue Tuball.
Exeunt.
Enter Bassanio, Portia, Gratiano, and all their traine.
Por. I pray you tarrie, pause a day or twoBefore you hazard, for in choosing wrongI loose your companie; therefore forbeare a while,There's something tels me (but it is not loue)I would not loose you, and you know your selfe,Hate counsailes not in such a quallitie;But least you should not vnderstand me well,And yet a maiden hath no tongue, but thought,I would detaine you here some month or twoBefore you venture for me. I could teach youHow to choose right, but then I am forsworne,So will I neuer be, so may you misse me,But if you doe, youle make me wish a sinne,That I had beene forsworne: Beshrow your eyes,They haue ore-lookt me and deuided me,One halfe of me is yours, the other halfe yours,Mine owne I would say: but of mine then yours,And so all yours; O these naughtie timesPuts bars betweene the owners and their rights.And so though yours, not yours (proue it so)Let Fortune goe to hell for it, not I.I speake too long, but 'tis to peize the time,To ich it, and to draw it out in length,To stay you from election
Bass. Let me choose,For as I am, I liue vpon the racke
Por. Vpon the racke Bassanio, then confesseWhat treason there is mingled with your loue
Bass. None but that vglie treason of mistrust.Which makes me feare the enioying of my loue:There may as well be amitie and life,'Tweene snow and fire, as treason and my loue
Por. I, but I feare you speake vpon the racke,Where men enforced doth speake any thing
Bass. Promise me life, and ile confesse the truth
Por. Well then, confesse and liue
Bass. Confesse and loueHad beene the verie sum of my confession:O happie torment, when my torturerDoth teach me answers for deliuerance:But let me to my fortune and the caskets
Por. Away then, I am lockt in one of them,If you doe loue me, you will finde me out.Nerryssa and the rest, stand all aloofe,Let musicke sound while he doth make his choise,Then if he loose he makes a Swan-like end,Fading in musique. That the comparisonMay stand more proper, my eye shall be the streameAnd watrie death-bed for him: he may win,And what is musique than? Than musique isEuen as the flourish, when true subiects boweTo a new crowned Monarch: Such it is,As are those dulcet sounds in breake of day,That creepe into the dreaming bride-groomes eare,And summon him to marriage. Now he goesWith no lesse presence, but with much more loueThen yong Alcides, when he did redeemeThe virgine tribute, paied by howling TroyTo the Sea-monster: I stand for sacrifice,The rest aloofe are the Dardanian wiues:With bleared visages come forth to viewThe issue of th' exploit: Goe Hercules,Liue thou, I liue with much more dismayI view the sight, then thou that mak'st the fray.
Here Musicke. A Song the whilst Bassanio comments on the Caskets to himselfe.
Tell me where is fancie bred,Or in the heart, or in the head:How begot, how nourished. Replie, replie.It is engendred in the eyes,With gazing fed, and Fancie dies,In the cradle where it lies:Let vs all ring Fancies knell.Ile begin it.Ding, dong, bell
All. Ding, dong, bell
Bass. So may the outward showes be least themseluesThe world is still deceiu'd with ornament.In Law, what Plea so tainted and corrupt,But being season'd with a gracious voice,Obscures the show of euill? In Religion,What damned error, but some sober browWill blesse it, and approue it with a text,Hiding the grosenesse with faire ornament:There is no voice so simple, but assumesSome marke of vertue on his outward parts;How manie cowards, whose hearts are all as falseAs stayers of sand, weare yet vpon their chinsThe beards of Hercules and frowning Mars,Who inward searcht, haue lyuers white as milke,And these assume but valors excrement,To render them redoubted. Looke on beautie,And you shall see 'tis purchast by the weight,Which therein workes a miracle in nature,Making them lightest that weare most of it:So are those crisped snakie golden locksWhich makes such wanton gambols with the windeVpon supposed fairenesse, often knowneTo be the dowrie of a second head,The scull that bred them in the Sepulcher.Thus ornament is but the guiled shoreTo a most dangerous sea: the beautious scarfeVailing an Indian beautie; In a word,The seeming truth which cunning times put onTo intrap the wisest. Therefore then thou gaudie gold,Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee,Nor none of thee thou pale and common drudge'Tweene man and man: but thou, thou meager leadWhich rather threatnest then dost promise ought,Thy palenesse moues me more then eloquence,And here choose I, ioy be the consequence
Por. How all the other passions fleet to ayre,As doubtfull thoughts, and rash imbrac'd despaire:And shuddring feare, and greene-eyed iealousie.O loue be moderate, allay thy extasie,In measure raine thy ioy, scant this excesse,I feele too much thy blessing, make it lesse,For feare I surfeit
Bas. What finde I here?Faire Portias counterfeit. What demie GodHath come so neere creation? moue these eies?Or whether riding on the bals of mineSeeme they in motion? Here are seuer'd lipsParted with suger breath, so sweet a barreShould sunder such sweet friends: here in her hairesThe Painter plaies the Spider, and hath wouenA golden mesh t' intrap the hearts of menFaster then gnats in cobwebs: but her eies,How could he see to doe them? hauing made one,Me thinkes it should haue power to steale both hisAnd leaue it selfe vnfurnisht: Yet looke how farreThe substance of my praise doth wrong this shadowIn vnderprising it, so farre this shadowDoth limpe behinde the substance. Here's the scroule,The continent, and summarie of my fortune.You that choose not by the viewChance as faire, and choose as true:Since this fortune fals to you,Be content, and seeke no new.If you be well pleasd with this,And hold your fortune for your blisse,Turne you where your Lady is,And claime her with a louing kisse
Bass. A gentle scroule: Faire Lady, by your leaue,I come by note to giue, and to receiue,Like one of two contending in a prizeThat thinks he hath done well in peoples eies:Hearing applause and vniuersall shout,Giddie in spirit, still gazing in a doubtWhether those peales of praise be his or no.So thrice faire Lady stand I euen so,As doubtfull whether what I see be true,Vntill confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you
Por. You see my Lord Bassiano where I stand,Such as I am; though for my selfe aloneI would not be ambitious in my wish,To wish my selfe much better, yet for you,I would be trebled twenty times my selfe,A thousand times more faire, ten thousand timesMore rich, that onely to stand high in your account,I might in vertues, beauties, liuings, friends,Exceed account: but the full summe of meIs sum of nothing: which to terme in grosse,Is an vnlessoned girle, vnschool'd, vnpractiz'd,Happy in this, she is not yet so oldBut she may learne: happier then this,Shee is not bred so dull but she can learne;Happiest of all, is that her gentle spiritCommits it selfe to yours to be directed,As from her Lord, her Gouernour, her King.My selfe, and what is mine, to you and yoursIs now conuerted. But now I was the LordOf this faire mansion, master of my seruants,Queene ore my selfe: and euen now, but now,This house, these seruants, and this same my selfeAre yours, my Lord, I giue them with this ring,Which when you part from, loose, or giue away,Let it presage the ruine of your loue,And be my vantage to exclaime on you
Bass. Maddam, you haue bereft me of all words,Onely my bloud speakes to you in my vaines,And there is such confusion in my powers,As after some oration fairely spokeBy a beloued Prince, there doth appeareAmong the buzzing pleased multitude,Where euery something being blent together,Turnes to a wilde of nothing, saue of ioyExprest, and not exprest: but when this ringParts 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 timeThat haue stood by and seene our wishes prosper,To cry good ioy, good ioy my Lord and Lady
Gra. My Lord Bassanio, and my gentle Lady,I wish you all the ioy that you can wish:For I am sure you can wish none from me:And when your Honours meane to solemnizeThe bargaine of your faith: I doe beseech youEuen at that time I may be married too
Bass. With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife
Gra. I thanke your Lordship, you haue got me one.My eyes my Lord can looke as swift as yours:You saw the mistres, I beheld the maid:You lou'd, I lou'd for intermission,No more pertaines to me my Lord then you;Your fortune stood vpon the caskets there,And so did mine too, as the matter falls:For wooing heere vntill I swet againe,And swearing till my very rough was dryWith oathes of loue, at last, if promise last,I got a promise of this faire one heereTo haue her loue: prouided that your fortuneAtchieu'd her mistresse
Por. Is this true Nerrissa?Ner. Madam it is so, so you stand pleas'd withall
Bass. And doe you Gratiano meane good faith?Gra. Yes faith my Lord
Bass. Our feast shall be much honored in your marriage
Gra. Weele play with them the first boy for a thousandducats
Ner. What and stake downe?Gra. No, we shal nere win at that sport, and stakedowne.But who comes heere? Lorenzo and his Infidell?What and my old Venetian friend Salerio?Enter Lorenzo, Iessica, and Salerio.
Bas. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hether,If that the youth of my new interest heereHaue power to bid you welcome: by your leaueI bid my verie friends and CountrimenSweet Portia welcome
Por. So do I my Lord, they are intirely welcome
Lor. I thanke your honor; for my part my Lord,My purpose was not to haue seene you heere,But meeting with Salerio by the way,He did intreate mee past all saying nayTo come with him along
Sal. I did my Lord,And I haue reason for it, Signior AnthonioCommends him to you
Bass. Ere I ope his LetterI pray you tell me how my good friend doth
Sal. Not sicke my Lord, vnlesse it be in minde,Nor wel, vnlesse in minde: his Letter thereWil shew you his estate.
Opens the Letter.
Gra. Nerrissa, cheere yond stranger, bid her welcom.Your hand Salerio, what's the newes from Venice?How doth that royal Merchant good Anthonio;I know he will be glad of our successe,We are the Iasons, we haue won the fleece
Sal. I would you had won the fleece that hee hathlost
Por. There are some shrewd contents in yond samePaper,That steales the colour from Bassianos cheeke,Some deere friend dead, else nothing in the worldCould turne so much the constitutionOf any constant man. What, worse and worse?With leaue Bassanio I am halfe your selfe,And I must freely haue the halfe of any thingThat this same paper brings you
Bass. O sweet Portia,Heere are a few of the vnpleasant'st wordsThat euer blotted paper. Gentle LadieWhen I did first impart my loue to you,I freely told you all the wealth I hadRan in my vaines: I was a Gentleman,And then I told you true: and yet deere Ladie,Rating my selfe at nothing, you shall seeHow much I was a Braggart, when I told youMy state was nothing, I should then haue told youThat I was worse then nothing: for indeedeI haue ingag'd my selfe to a deere friend,Ingag'd my friend to his meere enemieTo feede my meanes. Heere is a Letter Ladie,The paper as the bodie of my friend,And euerie word in it a gaping woundIssuing life blood. But is it true Salerio,Hath all his ventures faild, what not one hit,From Tripolis, from Mexico and England,From Lisbon, Barbary, and India,And not one vessell scape the dreadfull touchOf Merchant-marring rocks?Sal. Not one my Lord.Besides, it should appeare, that if he hadThe present money to discharge the Iew,He would not take it: neuer did I knowA creature that did beare the shape of manSo keene and greedy to confound a man.He plyes the Duke at morning and at night,And doth impeach the freedome of the stateIf they deny him iustice. Twenty Merchants,The Duke himselfe, and the MagnificoesOf greatest port haue all perswaded with him,But none can driue him from the enuious pleaOf forfeiture, of iustice, and his bond
Iessi. When I was with him, I haue heard him sweareTo Tuball and to Chus, his Countri-men,That he would rather haue Anthonio's flesh,Then twenty times the value of the summeThat he did owe him: and I know my Lord,If law, authoritie, and power denie not,It will goe hard with poore Anthonio
Por. Is it your deere friend that is thus in trouble?Bass. The deerest friend to me, the kindest man,The best condition'd, and vnwearied spiritIn doing curtesies: and one in whomThe ancient Romane honour more appearesThen any that drawes breath in Italie
Por. What summe owes he the Iew?Bass. For me three thousand ducats
Por. What, no more?Pay him sixe thousand, and deface the bond:Double sixe thousand, and then treble that,Before a friend of this descriptionShall lose a haire through Bassanio's fault.First goe with me to Church, and call me wife,And then away to Venice to your friend:For neuer shall you lie by Portias sideWith an vnquiet soule. You shall haue goldTo pay the petty debt twenty times ouer.When it is payd, bring your true friend along,My maid Nerrissa, and my selfe meane timeWill liue as maids and widdowes; come away,For you shall hence vpon your wedding day:Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheere,Since you are deere bought, I will loue you deere.But let me heare the letter of your friend.Sweet Bassanio, my ships haue all miscarried, my Creditorsgrow cruell, my estate is very low, my bond to the Iew isforfeit, and since in paying it, it is impossible I should liue, alldebts are cleerd between you and I, if I might see you at mydeath: notwithstanding, vse your pleasure, if your loue doe notperswade you to come, let not my letter
Por. O loue! dispach all busines and be gone
Bass. Since I haue your good leaue to goe away,I will make hast; but till I come againe,No bed shall ere be guilty of my stay,Nor rest be interposer twixt vs twaine.
Exeunt.
Enter the Iew, and Solanio, and Anthonio, and the Iaylor.
Iew. Iaylor, looke to him, tell not me of mercy,This is the foole that lends out money gratis.Iaylor, looke to him
Ant. Heare me yet good Shylok
Iew. Ile haue my bond, speake not against my bond,I haue sworne an oath that I will haue my bond:Thou call'dst me dog before thou hadst a cause,But since I am a dog, beware my phangs,The Duke shall grant me iustice, I do wonderThou naughty Iaylor, that thou art so fondTo come abroad with him at his request
Ant. I pray thee heare me speake
Iew. Ile haue my bond, I will not heare thee speake,Ile haue my bond, and therefore speake no more,Ile not be made a soft and dull ey'd foole,To shake the head, relent, and sigh, and yeeldTo Christian intercessors: follow not,Ile haue no speaking, I will haue my bond.
Exit Iew.
Sol. It is the most impenetrable curreThat euer kept with men
Ant. Let him alone,Ile follow him no more with bootlesse prayers:He seekes my life, his reason well I know;I oft deliuer'd from his forfeituresMany that haue at times made mone to me,Therefore he hates me
Sol. I am sure the Duke will neuer grantthis forfeiture to hold
An. The Duke cannot deny the course of law:For the commoditie that strangers haueWith vs in Venice, if it be denied,Will much impeach the iustice of the State,Since that the trade and profit of the cittyConsisteth of all Nations. Therefore goe,These greefes and losses haue so bated mee,That I shall hardly spare a pound of fleshTo morrow, to my bloudy Creditor.Well Iaylor, on, pray God Bassanio comeTo see me pay his debt, and then I care not.
Exeunt.
Enter Portia, Nerrissa, Lorenzo, Iessica, and a man of Portias.
Lor. Madam, although I speake it in your presence,You haue a noble and a true conceitOf god-like amity, which appeares most stronglyIn bearing thus the absence of your Lord.But if you knew to whom you shew this honour,How true a Gentleman you send releefe,How deere a louer of my Lord your husband,I know you would be prouder of the workeThen customary bounty can enforce you
Por. I neuer did repent for doing good,Nor shall not now: for in companionsThat do conuerse and waste the time together,Whose soules doe beare an egal yoke of loue.There must be needs a like proportionOf lyniaments, of manners, and of spirit;Which makes me thinke that this AnthonioBeing the bosome louer of my Lord,Must needs be like my Lord. If it be so,How little is the cost I haue bestowedIn purchasing the semblance of my soule;From out the state of hellish cruelty,This comes too neere the praising of my selfe,Therefore no more of it: heere other thingsLorenso I commit into your hands,The husbandry and mannage of my house,Vntill my Lords returne; for mine owne partI haue toward heauen breath'd a secret vow,To liue in prayer and contemplation,Onely attended by Nerrissa heere,Vntill her husband and my Lords returne:There is a monastery too miles off,And there we will abide. I doe desire youNot to denie this imposition,The which my loue and some necessityNow layes vpon you
Lorens. Madame, with all my heart,I shall obey you in all faire commands
Por. My people doe already know my minde,And will acknowledge you and IessicaIn place of Lord Bassanio and my selfe.So far you well till we shall meete againe
Lor. Faire thoughts & happy houres attend on you
Iessi. I wish your Ladiship all hearts content
Por. I thanke you for your wish, and am well pleas'dTo wish it backe on you: faryouwell Iessica.
Exeunt.
Now Balthaser, as I haue euer found thee honest true,So let me finde thee still: take this same letter,And vse thou all the indeauor of a man,In speed to Mantua, see thou render thisInto my cosins hand, Doctor Belario,And looke what notes and garments he doth giue thee,Bring them I pray thee with imagin'd speedVnto the Tranect, to the common FerrieWhich trades to Venice; waste no time in words,But get thee gone, I shall be there before thee
Balth. Madam, I goe with all conuenient speed
Por. Come on Nerissa, I haue worke in handThat you yet know not of; wee'll see our husbandsBefore they thinke of vs?Nerrissa. Shall they see vs?Portia. They shall Nerrissa: but in such a habit,That they shall thinke we are accomplishedWith that we lacke; Ile hold thee any wagerWhen we are both accoutered like yong men,Ile proue the prettier fellow of the two,And weare my dagger with the brauer grace,And speake betweene the change of man and boy,With a reede voyce, and turne two minsing stepsInto a manly stride; and speake of frayesLike a fine bragging youth: and tell quaint lyesHow honourable Ladies sought my loue,Which I denying, they fell sicke and died.I could not doe withall: then Ile repent,And wish for all that, that I had not kil'd them;And twentie of these punie lies Ile tell,That men shall sweare I haue discontinued schooleAboue a twelue moneth: I haue within my mindeA thousand raw tricks of these bragging Iacks,Which I will practise
Nerris. Why, shall wee turne to men?Portia. Fie, what a questions that?If thou wert nere a lewd interpreter:But come, Ile tell thee all my whole deuiceWhen I am in my coach, which stayes for vsAt the Parke gate; and therefore haste away,For we must measure twentie miles to day.
Exeunt.
Enter Clowne and Iessica.
Clown. Yes truly; for looke you, the sinnes of the Father are to be laid vpon the children, therefore I promise you, I feare you, I was alwaies plaine with you, and so now I speake my agitation of the matter: therfore be of good cheere, for truly I thinke you are damn'd, there is but one hope in it that can doe you anie good, and that is but a kinde of bastard hope neither
Iessica. And what hope is that I pray thee?Clow. Marrie you may partlie hope that your fathergot you not, that you are not the Iewes daughter
Ies. That were a kinde of bastard hope indeed, so thesins of my mother should be visited vpon me
Clow. Truly then I feare you are damned both by father and mother: thus when I shun Scilla your father, I fall into Charibdis your mother; well, you are gone both waies
Ies. I shall be sau'd by my husband, he hath made me a Christian
Clow. Truly the more to blame he, we were Christians enow before, e'ne as many as could wel liue one by another: this making of Christians will raise the price of Hogs, if wee grow all to be porke-eaters, wee shall not shortlie haue a rasher on the coales for money. Enter Lorenzo.
Ies. Ile tell my husband Lancelet what you say, heere he comes
Loren. I shall grow iealous of you shortly Lancelet, if you thus get my wife into corners? Ies. Nay, you need not feare vs Lorenzo, Launcelet and I are out, he tells me flatly there is no mercy for mee in heauen, because I am a Iewes daughter: and hee saies you are no good member of the common wealth, for in conuerting Iewes to Christians, you raise the price of Porke
Loren. I shall answere that better to the Commonwealth, than you can the getting vp of the Negroes bellie: the Moore is with childe by you Launcelet? Clow. It is much that the Moore should be more then reason: but if she be lesse then an honest woman, shee is indeed more then I tooke her for
Loren. How euerie foole can play vpon the word, I thinke the best grace of witte will shortly turne into silence, and discourse grow commendable in none onely but Parrats: goe in sirra, bid them prepare for dinner? Clow. That is done sir, they haue all stomacks? Loren. Goodly Lord, what a witte-snapper are you, then bid them prepare dinner
Clow. That is done to sir, onely couer is the word
Loren. Will you couer than sir?Clow. Not so sir neither, I know my dutie
Loren. Yet more quarreling with occasion, wilt thou shew the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant; I pray thee vnderstand a plaine man in his plaine meaning: goe to thy fellowes, bid them couer the table, serue in the meat, and we will come in to dinner
Clow. For the table sir, it shall be seru'd in, for the meat sir, it shall bee couered, for your comming in to dinner sir, why let it be as humors and conceits shall gouerne.
Exit Clowne.
Lor. O deare discretion, how his words are suted,The foole hath planted in his memoryAn Armie of good words, and I doe knowA many fooles that stand in better place,Garnisht like him, that for a tricksie wordDefie the matter: how cheer'st thou Iessica,And now good sweet say thy opinion,How dost thou like the Lord Bassiano's wife?Iessi. Past all expressing, it is very meeteThe Lord Bassanio liue an vpright lifeFor hauing such a blessing in his Lady,He findes the ioyes of heauen heere on earth,And if on earth he doe not meane it, itIs reason he should neuer come to heauen?Why, if two gods should play some heauenly match,And on the wager lay two earthly women,And Portia one: there must be something elsePaund with the other, for the poore rude worldHath not her fellow
Loren. Euen such a husbandHast thou of me, as she is for a wife
Ies. Nay, but aske my opinion to of that?Lor. I will anone, first let vs goe to dinner?Ies. Nay, let me praise you while I haue a stomacke?Lor. No pray thee, let it serue for table talke,Then how som ere thou speakst 'mong other things,I shall digest it?Iessi. Well, Ile set you forth.
Exeunt.
Actus Quartus.
Enter the Duke, the Magnificoes, Anthonio, Bassanio, andGratiano
Duke. What, is Anthonio heere?Ant. Ready, so please your grace?Duke. I am sorry for thee, thou art come to answereA stonie aduersary, an inhumane wretch,Vncapable of pitty, voyd, and emptyFrom any dram of mercie
Ant. I haue heardYour Grace hath tane great paines to qualifieHis rigorous course: but since he stands obdurate,And that no lawful meanes can carrie meOut of his enuies reach, I do opposeMy patience to his fury, and am arm'dTo suffer with a quietnesse of spirit,The very tiranny and rage of his
Du. Go one and cal the Iew into the Court
Sal. He is ready at the doore, he comes my Lord.Enter Shylocke.
Du. Make roome, and let him stand before our face.Shylocke the world thinkes, and I thinke so toThat thou but leadest this fashion of thy malliceTo the last houre of act, and then 'tis thoughtThou'lt shew thy mercy and remorse more strange,Than is thy strange apparant cruelty;And where thou now exact'st the penalty,Which is a pound of this poore Merchants flesh,Thou wilt not onely loose the forfeiture,But touch'd with humane gentlenesse and loue:Forgiue a moytie of the principall,Glancing an eye of pitty on his lossesThat haue of late so hudled on his backe,Enow to presse a royall Merchant downe;And plucke commiseration of his stateFrom brassie bosomes, and rough hearts of flints,From stubborne Turkes and Tarters neuer traindTo offices of tender curtesie,We all expect a gentle answer Iew?Iew. I haue possest your grace of what I purpose,And by our holy Sabbath haue I sworneTo haue the due and forfeit of my bond.If you denie it, let the danger lightVpon your Charter, and your Cities freedome.You'l aske me why I rather choose to haueA weight of carrion flesh, then to receiueThree thousand Ducats? Ile not answer that:But say it is my humor; Is it answered?What if my house be troubled with a Rat,And I be pleas'd to giue ten thousand DucatesTo haue it bain'd? What, are you answer'd yet?Some men there are loue not a gaping Pigge:Some that are mad, if they behold a Cat:And others, when the bag-pipe sings i'th nose,Cannot containe their Vrine for affection.Masters of passion swayes it to the moodeOf what it likes or loaths, now for your answer:As there is no firme reason to be rendredWhy he cannot abide a gaping Pigge?Why he a harmlesse necessarie Cat?Why he a woollen bag-pipe: but of forceMust yeeld to such ineuitable shame,As to offend himselfe being offended:So can I giue no reason, nor I will not,More then a lodg'd hate, and a certaine loathingI beare Anthonio, that I follow thusA loosing suite against him? Are you answered?Bass. This is no answer thou vnfeeling man,To excuse the currant of thy cruelty
Iew. I am not bound to please thee with my answer
Bass. Do all men kil the things they do not loue?Iew. Hates any man the thing he would not kill?Bass. Euerie offence is not a hate at first
Iew. What wouldst thou haue a Serpent sting theetwice?Ant. I pray you thinke you question with the Iew:You may as well go stand vpon the beach,And bid the maine flood baite his vsuall height,Or euen as well vse question with the Wolfe,The Ewe bleate for the Lambe:You may as well forbid the Mountaine PinesTo wagge their high tops, and to make no noiseWhen they are fretted with the gusts of heauen:You may as well do any thing most hard,As seeke to soften that, then which what harder?His Iewish heart. Therefore I do beseech youMake no more offers, vse no farther meanes,But with all briefe and plaine conueniencieLet me haue iudgement, and the Iew his will
Bas. For thy three thousand Ducates heere is six
Iew. If euerie Ducat in sixe thousand DucatesWere in sixe parts, and euery part a Ducate,I would not draw them, I would haue my bond?Du. How shalt thou hope for mercie, rendring none?Iew. What iudgement shall I dread doing no wrong?You haue among you many a purchast slaue,Which like your Asses, and your Dogs and Mules,You vse in abiect and in slauish parts,Because you bought them. Shall I say to you,Let them be free, marrie them to your heires?Why sweate they vnder burthens? Let their bedsBe made as soft as yours: and let their pallatsBe season'd with such Viands: you will answerThe slaues are ours. So do I answer you.The pound of flesh which I demand of himIs deerely bought, 'tis mine, and I will haue it.If you deny me; fie vpon your Law,There is no force in the decrees of Venice;I stand for iudgement, answer, Shall I haue it?Du. Vpon my power I may dismisse this Court,Vnlesse Bellario a learned Doctor,Whom I haue sent for to determine this,Come heere to day
Sal. My Lord, heere stayes withoutA Messenger with Letters from the Doctor,New come from Padua
Du. Bring vs the Letters, Call the Messengers
Bass. Good cheere Anthonio. What man, corage yet:The Iew shall haue my flesh, blood, bones, and all,Ere thou shalt loose for me one drop of blood
Ant. I am a tainted Weather of the flocke,Meetest for death, the weakest kinde of fruiteDrops earliest to the ground, and so let me;You cannot better be employ'd Bassanio,Then to liue still, and write mine Epitaph.Enter Nerrissa.
Du. Came you from Padua from Bellario?Ner. From both.My Lord Bellario greets your Grace
Bas. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?Iew. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrout there
Gra. Not on thy soale: but on thy soule harsh IewThou mak'st thy knife keene: but no mettall can,No, not the hangmans Axe beare halfe the keennesseOf thy sharpe enuy. Can no prayers pierce thee?Iew. No, none that thou hast wit enough to make
Gra. O be thou damn'd, inexecrable dogge,And for thy life let iustice be accus'd:Thou almost mak'st me wauer in my faith;To hold opinion with Pythagoras,That soules of Animals infuse themseluesInto the trunkes of men. Thy currish spiritGouern'd a Wolfe, who hang'd for humane slaughter,Euen from the gallowes did his fell soule fleet;And whil'st thou layest in thy vnhallowed dam,Infus'd it selfe in thee: For thy desiresAre Woluish, bloody, steru'd, and rauenous
Iew. Till thou canst raile the seale from off my bondThou but offend'st thy Lungs to speake so loud:Repaire thy wit good youth, or it will fallTo endlesse ruine. I stand heere for Law
Du. This Letter from Bellario doth commendA yong and Learned Doctor in our Court;Where is he?Ner. He attendeth heere hard byTo know your answer, whether you'l admit him
Du. With all my heart. Some three or four of you Go giue him curteous conduct to this place, Meane time the Court shall heare Bellarioes Letter. Your Grace shall vnderstand, that at the receite of your Letter I am very sicke: but in the instant that your messenger came, in louing visitation, was with me a yong Doctor of Rome, his name is Balthasar: I acquainted him with the cause in Controuersie, betweene the Iew and Anthonio the Merchant: We turn'd ore many Bookes together: hee is furnished with my opinion, which bettred with his owne learning, the greatnesse whereof I cannot enough commend, comes with him at my importunity, to fill vp your Graces request in my sted. I beseech you, let his lacke of years be no impediment to let him lacke a reuerend estimation: for I neuer knewe so yong a body, with so old a head. I leaue him to your gracious acceptance, whose trial shall better publish his commendation. Enter Portia for Balthazar.
Duke. You heare the learn'd Bellario what he writes,And heere (I take it) is the Doctor come.Giue me your hand: Came you from old Bellario?Por. I did my Lord
Du. You are welcome: take your place;Are you acquainted with the differenceThat holds this present question in the Court
Por. I am enformed throughly of the cause.Which is the Merchant heere? and which the Iew?Du. Anthonio and old Shylocke, both stand forth
Por. Is your name Shylocke?Iew. Shylocke is my name
Por. Of a strange nature is the sute you follow,Yet in such rule, that the Venetian LawCannot impugne you as you do proceed.You stand within his danger, do you not?Ant. I, so he sayes
Por. Do you confesse the bond?Ant. I do
Por. Then must the Iew be mercifull
Iew. On what compulsion must I ? Tell me that
Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd,It droppeth as the gentle raine from heauenVpon the place beneath. It is twice blest,It blesseth him that giues, and him that takes,'Tis mightiest in the mightiest, it becomesThe throned Monarch better then his Crowne.His Scepter shewes the force of temporall power,The attribute to awe and Maiestie,Wherein doth sit the dread and feare of Kings:But mercy is aboue this sceptred sway,It is enthroned in the hearts of Kings,It is an attribute to God himselfe;And earthly power doth then shew likest GodsWhen mercie seasons Iustice. Therefore Iew,Though Iustice be thy plea, consider this,That in the course of Iustice, none of vsShould see saluation: we do pray for mercie,And that same prayer, doth teach vs all to renderThe deeds of mercie. I haue spoke thus muchTo mittigate the iustice of thy plea:Which if thou follow, this strict course of VeniceMust needes giue sentence 'gainst the Merchant there
Shy. My deeds vpon my head, I craue the Law,The penaltie and forfeite of my bond
Por. Is he not able to discharge the money?Bas. Yes, heere I tender it for him in the Court,Yea, twice the summe, if that will not suffice,I will be bound to pay it ten times ore,On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart:If this will not suffice, it must appeareThat malice beares downe truth. And I beseech youWrest once the Law to your authority.To do a great right, do a little wrong,And curbe this cruell diuell of his will
Por. It must not be, there is no power in VeniceCan alter a decree established:'Twill be recorded for a President,And many an error by the same example,Will rush into the state: It cannot be
Iew. A Daniel come to iudgement, yea a Daniel.O wise young Iudge, how do I honour thee
Por. I pray you let me looke vpon the bond
Iew. Heere 'tis most reuerend Doctor, heere it is
Por. Shylocke, there's thrice thy monie offered thee
Shy. An oath, an oath, I haue an oath in heauen:Shall I lay periurie vpon my soule?No not for Venice
Por. Why this bond is forfeit,And lawfully by this the Iew may claimeA pound of flesh, to be by him cut offNeerest the Merchants heart; be mercifull,Take thrice thy money, bid me teare the bond
Iew. When it is paid according to the tenure.It doth appeare you are a worthy Iudge:You know the Law, your expositionHath beene most sound. I charge you by the Law,Whereof you are a well-deseruing pillar,Proceede to iudgement: By my soule I sweare,There is no power in the tongue of manTo alter me: I stay heere on my bond
An. Most heartily I do beseech the CourtTo giue the iudgement
Por. Why then thus it is:You must prepare your bosome for his knife
Iew. O noble Iudge, O excellent yong man
Por. For the intent and purpose of the LawHath full relation to the penaltie,Which heere appeareth due vpon the bond
Iew. 'Tis verie true: O wise and vpright Iudge,How much more elder art thou then thy lookes?Por. Therefore lay bare your bosome
Iew. I, his brest,So sayes the bond, doth it not noble Iudge?Neerest his heart, those are the very words
Por. It is so: Are there ballance heere to weigh theflesh?Iew. I haue them ready
Por. Haue by some Surgeon Shylock on your chargeTo stop his wounds, least he should bleede to death
Iew. It is not nominated in the bond?Por. It is not so exprest: but what of that?'Twere good you do so much for charitie
Iew. I cannot finde it, 'tis not in the bond
Por. Come Merchant, haue you any thing to say?Ant. But little: I am arm'd and well prepar'd.Giue me your hand Bassanio, fare you well.Greeue not that I am falne to this for you:For heerein fortune shewes her selfe more kindeThen is her custome. It is still her vseTo let the wretched man out-liue his wealth,To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled browAn age of pouerty. From which lingring penanceOf such miserie, doth she cut me off:Commend me to your honourable Wife,Tell her the processe of Anthonio's end:Say how I lou'd you; speake me faire in death:And when the tale is told, bid her be iudge,Whether Bassanio had not once a Loue:Repent not you that you shall loose your friend,And he repents not that he payes your debt.For if the Iew do cut but deepe enough,Ile pay it instantly, with all my heart
Bas. Anthonio, I am married to a wife,Which is as deere to me as life it selfe,But life it selfe, my wife, and all the world,Are not with me esteem'd aboue thy life.I would loose all, I sacrifice them allHeere to this deuill, to deliuer you
Por. Your wife would giue you little thanks for thatIf she were by to heare you make the offer
Gra. I haue a wife whom I protest I loue,I would she were in heauen, so she couldIntreat some power to change this currish Iew
Ner. 'Tis well you offer it behinde her backe,The wish would make else an vnquiet house
Iew. These be the Christian husbands: I haue a daughterWould any of the stocke of BarrabasHad beene her husband, rather then a Christian.We trifle time, I pray thee pursue sentence
Por. A pound of that same marchants flesh is thine,The Court awards it, and the law doth giue it
Iew. Most rightfull Iudge
Por. And you must cut this flesh from off his breast,The Law allowes it, and the Court awards it
Iew. Most learned Iudge, a sentence, come prepare
Por. Tarry a little, there is something else,This bond doth giue thee heere no iot of bloud,The words expresly are a pound of flesh:Then take thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh,But in the cutting it, if thou dost shedOne drop of Christian bloud, thy lands and goodsAre by the Lawes of Venice confiscateVnto the state of Venice
Gra. O vpright Iudge,Marke Iew, o learned Iudge
Shy. Is that the law?Por. Thy selfe shalt see the Act:For as thou vrgest iustice, be assur'dThou shalt haue iustice more then thou desirest
Gra. O learned Iudge, mark Iew, a learned Iudge
Iew. I take this offer then, pay the bond thrice,And let the Christian goe
Bass. Heere is the money
Por. Soft, the Iew shall haue all iustice, soft, no haste,He shall haue nothing but the penalty
Gra. O Iew, an vpright Iudge, a learned Iudge
Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the flesh,Shed thou no bloud, nor cut thou lesse nor moreBut iust a pound of flesh: if thou tak'st moreOr lesse then a iust pound, be it so muchAs makes it light or heauy in the substance,Or the deuision of the twentieth partOf one poore scruple, nay if the scale doe turneBut in the estimation of a hayre,Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate
Gra. A second Daniel, a Daniel Iew,Now infidell I haue thee on the hip
Por. Why doth the Iew pause, take thy forfeiture
Shy. Giue me my principall, and let me goe
Bass. I haue it ready for thee, heere it is
Por. He hath refus'd it in the open Court,He shall haue meerly iustice and his bond
Gra. A Daniel still say I, a second Daniel,I thanke thee Iew for teaching me that word
Shy. Shall I not haue barely my principall?Por. Thou shalt haue nothing but the forfeiture,To be taken so at thy perill Iew
Shy. Why then the Deuill giue him good of it:Ile stay no longer question
Por. Tarry Iew,The Law hath yet another hold on you.It is enacted in the Lawes of Venice,If it be proued against an Alien,That by direct, or indirect attemptsHe seeke the life of any Citizen,The party gainst the which he doth contriue,Shall seaze one halfe his goods, the other halfeComes to the priuie coffer of the State,And the offenders life lies in the mercyOf the Duke onely, gainst all other voice.In which predicament I say thou standst:For it appeares by manifest proceeding,That indirectly, and directly to,Thou hast contriu'd against the very lifeOf the defendant: and thou hast incur'dThe danger formerly by me rehearst.Downe therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke
Gra. Beg that thou maist haue leaue to hang thy selfe,And yet thy wealth being forfeit to the state,Thou hast not left the value of a cord,Therefore thou must be hang'd at the states charge
Duk. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit,I pardon thee thy life before thou aske it:For halfe thy wealth, it is Anthonio'sThe other halfe comes to the generall state,Which humblenesse may driue vnto a fine
Por. I for the state, not for Anthonio
Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that,You take my house, when you do take the propThat doth sustaine my house: you take my lifeWhen you doe take the meanes whereby I liue
Por. What mercy can you render him Anthonio?Gra. A halter gratis, nothing else for Gods sake
Ant. So please my Lord the Duke, and all the CourtTo quit the fine for one halfe of his goods,I am content: so he will let me haueThe other halfe in vse, to render itVpon his death, vnto the GentlemanThat lately stole his daughter.Two things prouided more, that for this fauourHe presently become a Christian:The other, that he doe record a giftHeere in the Court of all he dies possestVnto his sonne Lorenzo, and his daughter
Duk. He shall doe this, or else I doe recantThe pardon that I late pronounced heere
Por. Art thou contented Iew? what dost thou say?Shy. I am content
Por. Clarke, draw a deed of gift
Shy. I pray you giue me leaue to goe from hence,I am not well, send the deed after me,And I will signe it
Duke. Get thee gone, but doe it
Gra. In christning thou shalt haue two godfathers,Had I been iudge, thou shouldst haue had ten more,To bring thee to the gallowes, not to the font.Enter.
Du. Sir I intreat you with me home to dinner
Por. I humbly doe desire your Grace of pardon,I must away this night toward Padua,And it is meete I presently set forth
Duk. I am sorry that your leysure serues you not:Anthonio, gratifie this gentleman,For in my minde you are much bound to him.
Exit Duke and his traine.
Bass. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friendHaue by your wisedome beene this day acquittedOf greeuous penalties, in lieu whereof,Three thousand Ducats due vnto the IewWe freely cope your curteous paines withall
An. And stand indebted ouer and aboueIn loue and seruice to you euermore
Por. He is well paid that is well satisfied,And I deliuering you, am satisfied,And therein doe account my selfe well paid,My minde was neuer yet more mercinarie.I pray you know me when we meete againe,I wish you well, and so I take my leaue
Bass. Deare sir, of force I must attempt you further,Take some remembrance of vs as a tribute,Not as fee: grant me two things, I pray youNot to denie me, and to pardon me
Por. You presse mee farre, and therefore I will yeeld,Giue me your gloues, Ile weare them for your sake,And for your loue Ile take this ring from you,Doe not draw backe your hand, ile take no more,And you in loue shall not deny me this?Bass. This ring good sir, alas it is a trifle,I will not shame my selfe to giue you this
Por. I wil haue nothing else but onely this,And now methinkes I haue a minde to it
Bas. There's more depends on this then on the valew,The dearest ring in Venice will I giue you,And finde it out by proclamation,Onely for this I pray you pardon me
Por. I see sir you are liberall in offers,You taught me first to beg, and now me thinkesYou teach me how a beggar should be answer'd
Bas. Good sir, this ring was giuen me by my wife,And when she put it on, she made me vowThat I should neither sell, nor giue, nor lose it
Por. That scuse serues many men to saue their gifts,And if your wife be not a mad woman,And know how well I haue deseru'd this ring,Shee would not hold out enemy for euerFor giuing it to me: well, peace be with you.
Exeunt.
Ant. My L[ord]. Bassanio, let him haue the ring,Let his deseruings and my loue withallBe valued against your wiues commandement
Bass. Goe Gratiano, run and ouer-take him,Giue him the ring, and bring him if thou canstVnto Anthonios house, away, make haste.
Exit Grati.
Come, you and I will thither presently,And in the morning early will we bothFlie toward Belmont, come Anthonio.
Exeunt.
Enter Portia and Nerrissa.
Por. Enquire the Iewes house out, giue him this deed,And let him signe it, wee'll away to night,And be a day before our husbands home:This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.Enter Gratiano.
Gra. Faire sir, you are well ore-tane:My L[ord]. Bassanio vpon more aduice,Hath sent you heere this ring, and doth intreatYour company at dinner
Por. That cannot be;His ring I doe accept most thankfully,And so I pray you tell him: furthermore,I pray you shew my youth old Shylockes house
Gra. That will I doe
Ner. Sir, I would speake with you:Ile see if I can get my husbands ringWhich I did make him sweare to keepe for euer
Por. Thou maist I warrant, we shal haue old swearingThat they did giue the rings away to men;But weele out-face them, and out-sweare them to:Away, make haste, thou know'st where I will tarry
Ner. Come good sir, will you shew me to this house.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus.
Enter Lorenzo and Iessica.
Lor. The moone shines bright. In such a night as this,When the sweet winde did gently kisse the trees,And they did make no noyse, in such a nightTroylus me thinkes mounted the Troian walls,And sigh'd his soule toward the Grecian tentsWhere Cressed lay that night
Ies. In such a nightDid Thisbie fearefully ore-trip the dewe,And saw the Lyons shadow ere himselfe,And ranne dismayed away
Loren. In such a nightStood Dido with a Willow in her handVpon the wilde sea bankes, and waft her LoueTo come againe to Carthage
Ies. In such a nightMedea gathered the inchanted hearbsThat did renew old Eson
Loren. In such a nightDid Iessica steale from the wealthy Iewe,And with an Vnthrift Loue did runne from Venice,As farre as Belmont
Ies. In such a nightDid young Lorenzo sweare he lou'd her well,Stealing her soule with many vowes of faith,And nere a true one
Loren. In such a nightDid pretty Iessica (like a little shrow)Slander her Loue, and he forgaue it her
Iessi. I would out-night you did no body come:But harke, I heare the footing of a man.Enter Messenger.
Lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?Mes. A friend
Loren. A friend, what friend? your name I pray you friend?Mes. Stephano is my name, and I bring wordMy Mistresse will before the breake of dayBe heere at Belmont, she doth stray aboutBy holy crosses where she kneeles and prayesFor happy wedlocke houres
Loren. Who comes with her?Mes. None but a holy Hermit and her maid:I pray you is my Master yet return'd?Loren. He is not, nor we haue not heard from him,But goe we in I pray thee Iessica,And ceremoniously let vs prepareSome welcome for the Mistresse of the house,Enter Clowne.
Clo. Sola, sola: wo ha ho, sola, sola
Loren. Who calls?Clo. Sola, did you see M[aster]. Lorenzo, & M[aster]. Lorenzo,sola,Lor. Leaue hollowing man, heere
Clo. Sola, where, where?Lor. Heere?Clo. Tel him ther's a Post come from my Master, withhis horne full of good newes, my Master will be here eremorning sweete soule
Loren. Let's in, and there expect their comming.And yet no matter: why should we goe in?My friend Stephen, signifie pray youWithin the house, your Mistresse is at hand,And bring your musique foorth into the ayre.How sweet the moone-light sleepes vpon this banke,Heere will we sit, and let the sounds of musickeCreepe in our eares soft stilnes, and the nightBecome the tutches of sweet harmonie:Sit Iessica, looke how the floore of heauenIs thicke inlayed with pattens of bright gold,There's not the smallest orbe which thou beholdstBut in his motion like an Angell sings,Still quiring to the young eyed Cherubins;Such harmonie is in immortall soules,But whilst this muddy vesture of decayDoth grosly close in it, we cannot heare it:Come hoe, and wake Diana with a hymne,With sweetest tutches pearce your Mistresse eare,And draw her home with musicke
Iessi. I am neuer merry when I heare sweet musique.
Play musicke.
Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentiue:For doe but note a wilde and wanton heardOr race of youthful and vnhandled colts,Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,Which is the hot condition of their bloud,If they but heare perchance a trumpet sound,Or any ayre of musicke touch their eares,You shall perceiue them make a mutuall stand,Their sauage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,By the sweet power of musicke: therefore the PoetDid faine that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods.Since naught so stockish, hard, and full of rage,But musicke for time doth change his nature,The man that hath no musicke in himselfe,Nor is not moued with concord of sweet sounds,Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoyles,The motions of his spirit are dull as night,And his affections darke as Erobus,Let no such man be trusted: marke the musicke.Enter Portia and Nerrissa.
Por. That light we see is burning in my hall:How farre that little candell throwes his beames,So shines a good deed in a naughty world
Ner. When the moone shone we did not see the candle?Por. So doth the greater glory dim the lesse,A substitute shines brightly as a KingVntill a King be by, and then his stateEmpties it selfe, as doth an inland brookeInto the maine of waters: musique, harke.
Musicke.
Ner. It is your musicke Madame of the house
Por. Nothing is good I see without respect,Methinkes it sounds much sweeter then by day?Ner. Silence bestowes that vertue on it Madam
Por. The Crow doth sing as sweetly as the LarkeWhen neither is attended: and I thinkeThe Nightingale if she should sing by dayWhen euery Goose is cackling, would be thoughtNo better a Musitian then the Wren?How many things by season, season'd areTo their right praise, and true perfection:Peace, how the Moone sleepes with Endimion,And would not be awak'd.
Musicke ceases.
Lor. That is the voice,Or I am much deceiu'd of Portia
Por. He knowes me as the blinde man knowes theCuckow by the bad voice?Lor. Deere Lady welcome home?Por. We haue bene praying for our husbands welfareWhich speed we hope the better for our words,Are they return'd?Lor. Madam, they are not yet:But there is come a Messenger beforeTo signifie their comming