That he did pace them first? all things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,
The skarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!
Enter Lorenzo.
Sal. Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter.
Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode ;
Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait;
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then; come, approach;
Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within ?
Jessica above, in boy's cloaths.
Jes. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll swear, that I do know your tongue.
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.
Jes. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed;
For who love I so much? and now who knows,
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness, that thou
Jef Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains.
I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me;
For I am much ashamed of my exchange;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee
The pretty follies that themselves commit ;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy.
Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jes. What must I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, good footh, are too, too light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,
And I should be obscur'd.
Lor. So are you, sweet,
Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once
For the close night doth play the run away,
And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast.
Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With fome more ducats, and be with you straight.
[Exit from above.
Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily;
For she is wise, if I can judge of her;
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true;
And true she is, as she hath prov'd her self;
And therefore like her self, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
What, art thou come ?on, gentlemen, away
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
Enter Anthonio.
Anth. Who's there?
Gra. Signior Anthonio,
Anth. Fy, Gratiano, where are all the rest?
'Tis nine o'clock, our friends all stay for you;
No masque to night; the wind is come about,
Bassanio presently will go aboard;
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
Gra. I'm glad on't; I desire no more delight
Than to be under sail, and gone to night.
SCENE changes to Belmont,
Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains.
Por. O, draw aside the curtains, and discover
The several caskets to this noble Prince.
Now make your choice. [Three caskets are discovered.
Mor. The first of gold, which this inscription bears,
Who chuseth me, shall gain whas many men desire.
The second silver, which this promise carries,
Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he bath.
How shall I know, if I do chuse the right?
Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince; you chose that, then I am yours withal.
Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me see, I will survey th' inscriptions back again;
What fays this leaden casket?
Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he bath.
Muft give, for what? for lead hazard for lead?
This casket threatens. Men, that hazard all,
Do it in hope of fair advantages:
A golden mind stoops not to stows of dross;
I'll then not give, nor hazard, aught for lead.
What fays the silver, with her virgin hue?
Who chuseth me, fall get as much as he deserves.
As much as he deserves? pause there, Morochius ;
And weigh thy value with an even hand.
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
And yet to be afraid of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of my self.
As much as I deserve—why, that's the lady :
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding:
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no farther, but chose here ?
Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold.
Who chuseth me, shall gain what many men desire;
Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her;
From the four corners of the earth they come.
To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing faint.
Th' Hyrcanian deserts, and the vastie wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares now,
For Princes come to view fair Portia.
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to fee fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
Is't like, that lead contains her? 'twere damnation,
To think so base a thought it were too gross
To rib her searcloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think, in silver she's immured,
Being ten times undervalu'd to try'd gold?
O sinful thought, never so rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold! they have in England
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that's insculpt upon :
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lyes all within. Deliver me the key;
Here do I chuse, and thrive I as I may
Por. There take it, Prince, and if my form lye there, Then I am yours. [Unlocking the gold casket. Mor. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death, Within whose empty eye there is a scrawl:
All that glisters is not gold,
Often have you heard that told;
Many a man his life hath sold,
But my outside to behold.
Gilded wood may worms infold:
Had you been as wife as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscrol'd:
Fare you well, your suit is cold.
́Mor. Cold, indeed, and labour lost:
Then farewel, heat; and welcome, frost:
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.
Por. A gentle riddance: draw the curtains: go— Let all of his complexion chuse me so.
Enter Solarino and Salanio.
HY, man, I saw Bassanio under sail ; With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship, I'm sure, Lorenzo is not.
Sola. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the Duke, Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship. Sal. He came too late, the ship was under fail; But there the Duke was giv'n to underkand, That in a Gondola were seen together Lorenzo and his am'rous Jessica: Besides, Antonia certify'd the Duke, They were not with Bassanio in his ship. Sola. I never heard a passion so confus'd, So strange, outrageous, and so variable, As the dog Jew did utter in the streets; My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter, Fled with a christian? O my christian ducats !
Juftice, the law, my ducats, and my daughter!
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats, stoll'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels, two stones, rich and precious stones,
Stoll'n by my daughter! justice! find the girl;
She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.
Sal. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
Sola. Let good Anthonio look, he keep his day;
Or he shall pay for this.
Sal. Marry, well remember'd.
I reafon'd with a Frenchman yesterday,
Who told me, in the narrow seas, that part
The French and English, there miscarried
A vessel of our country richly fraught:
I thought upon Anthonio, when he told me,
And wish'd in silence, that it were not his.
Sola. You were best to tell Anthonio what you hear,
Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
Sal. A kinder Gentleman treads not the earth.
I saw Bassanio and Anthonio part.
Bassanio told him, he would make some speed
Of his return: he answer'd, do not so,
Slubber not business for my fake, Bassanio.
But stay the very riping of the time;
And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love :
Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtship, and such fair ostents of love,
As shall conveniently become you there.
And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wond'rous sensible
He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted.
Sola. I think, he only loves the world for him.
I pray thee, let us go and find him out,
And quicken his embraced heaviness
With some delight or other.
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