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Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me sad.

Sal. My wind, cooling my broth,
Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,
But I should think of shallows and of flats;
And see my wealthy Andrew docked in sand,
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs,
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church,
And see the holy edifice of stone,
And not bethink me straight of dang'rous rocks?
Which, touching but ny gentle vessel's side,
Would scatter all the spices on the stream,
Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks ;
And, in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I have the

thought To think on this, and shall I lack the thought That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me

sad? But tell not me ;-I know Anthonio Is sad to think upon his merchandize.

Anth. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune

for it,

My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
Upon the fortune of this present year :
Therefore, my merchandize makes me not sad.

Sola. Why then, you are in love ?
Anth. Fy, fy.
Sala, Not in love, neither! Then let's say

you're sad, Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy For you to laugh and leap, and say, you're merBecause you are not sad. Now, by two-headed


Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their

And laugh, like parrots at a bag-piper;
And others of such vinegar aspect,
That they'll not show their teeth in way of

Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.


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Sal. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble

Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well;
We leave you now with better company.
Sola. I would have staid till I had made you

If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard :
I take it your own business calls on you,
And you embrace th'occasion to depart.

Sal. Good morrow, my good lords.
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we

laugh ? say, when ?
You grow exceeding strange. Must it be so?
Sal. We'll make our leisures to attend on

Sola. My lord Bassanio, since you've found

We two will leave you ; but at dinner-time,
I pray you have in mind where we must meet.
Bass. I will not fail you.

[exit Solarino and Salanio

A ?

Gra. You look not well, signior Anthonio; You have too much respect upon the world; They lose it, that do buy it with much care. Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd. Anth. I hold the world but as the world, Gra

tiano, A stage, where every man must play his part, And mine's 'a sad one.

Gra. Let me play the fool With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ? Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaun

dice By being peevish? I tell thee what, Anthonio, (I love thee, and it is my love that speaks) There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle like a standing pond, And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be drest in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit; As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, And when I ope my lips let no dog bark ! O my Anthonio, I do know of those, That therefore only are reputed wise For saying nothing, I'll tell thee more of this another time; But fish not with this melancholy bait, For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion. Come, good Lorenzo, fare ye well awhile, I'll end my exhortation after dinner. Lor. Well, we will leave you, then, till din


I must be one of these same dumb wise men;
For Gratiano never lets me speak.
Gra. Well, keep me company but two years

more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own

tongue. Anth. Farewell; I'll grow a talker for this

gear. Gra. Thanks, i'faith ; for silence is only com

mendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendi

ble. (exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo Anth. Is that any thing, now?

Bass. Gratiaño speaks an infinite deal of no-thing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains of wheat, hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.

Anth. Well, tell me now, what lady is the


To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
That you to-day promised to tell me of?

Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio,
How much I have disabled mine estate,
By showing something more a swelling port
Than my faint means would grant continuance.
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
From such a noble rate; but my chief care
Is to come fairly off from the great debts,
Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
Hath left me gaged. To you, Anthonio,
I owe the most, in money and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty,
T'' unburden all my plots and purposes,

How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

Anth. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know


And if it stand, as you yourself still do,
Within the eye of honour, be assur’d,
My purse, my person, my extremest means,
Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.
Bass. In my school days, when I had lost one

I shot his fellow, of the self-same flight,
The self-same way, with more advised watch,
To find the other forth; by vent'ring both,
I oft found both. I urge this childhood proof,
Because what follows is pure innocence.
I owe you much, and, like a wilful youth,
That which I owe is lost; but, if you please
To shoot another arrow that self way

you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, As I will watch the aim, or to find both, Or bring your latter hazard back again, And thankfully rest debtor for the first. Anth. You know me well; and herein spend

but time, To wind about my love with circumstance; And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, In making question of my uttermost, Than if you had made waste of all I have. Then do but say to me what I should do, That in your knowledge may by me be done, And I am prest unto it: therefore speak.

Bass. In Belmont is a lady, richly left, And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, Of wond'rous virtues. Sometime from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages; Her naine is Portia, nothing undervalu'd

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