Laun. Your worship was won't to tell me, that I could do nothing without bidding.

fef. Call you?

Enter JESSICA.

What is your will?

Shy. I am bid forth to fupper, Jeffica;
There are my keys. But wherefore fhould I go?
I am not bid, for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed

upon

The prodigal chriftian. Feica, my girl,
Look to my houfe: I am right loth to go;
There is fome ill a brewing towards my reft,
For I did dream of money-bags, to night.

Laun. I befeech you, fir, go; my young mafter doth expect your reproach.

Shy. So do I his.

Laun. And they have confpired together, I will not fay, you fhall fee a mafque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nofe fell a bleeding on black Monday laft, at fix o'clock i'th' morning, falling out that year on Ash-wednesday was four years in the afternoon.

Shy. What are there mafques: hear you me, Jeffica, Lock up the doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile fqueaking of the wry-nek'd fife, Clamber you not up to the cafements then, Nor thrust your head into the public street, To gaze on chriftian fools with varnish'd faces But ftop my house's ears, I mean, my cafements. Let not the found of fhallow foppery, enter My fober house. By Jacob's ftaff, I fwear, I have no mind of feafting forth, to-night: go. Go you before me, firrah :

But I will

Say, I will come.

Laun. I will go before, fir.

Miftrefs, look out at window, for all this.

'There will come christian by,

Will be worth a Jewess' eye.

[Exit Laun. Shy. What fays that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha! Jef. His words were, Farewel, miftrefs; nothing else. Shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder: Snail-flow in profit, but he fleeps by day,

More than the wild cat: drones hive not with me,

Therefore, I part with him; and part with him
To one, that I would have him help to waste
His borrow'd purfe. Well, Jfica, go in,
Perhaps I will return immediately;

Do as I bid you

Shut the doors after you; faft bind, faft find;
A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind.

[Exit.

Jef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft,

I have a father, you a daughter loft.

[Exit.

SCENE, a Street before SHYLOCK's Houfe. Enter GRATIANO and SALANIO, in Masquerade.. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo defired us to make a stand.

Sal. His hour is almost past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pigeons fly,

'To feal love's bonds new made, than they are wont To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds.

Sal. Here comes Lorenzo: more of this, hereafter.

Enter LORENZO.

Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; Not 1, 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.

SONG, by LORENZO.

1.

My blifs too long my bride denies,
Apace the wafting fummer flies;
Nor yet the wintry blafs I fear,
Nor formsnor night fball keep me here.
II.

What may for frength with feel compare?
O love has fetiers ftronger far!
By bolts of feel are limbs confin'd,
But cruel love enchains the mind.

III.

III.

No longer then perplex thy breast,'
When thoughts torment, the firft are beft;
'Tis mad to go, 'tis death to stay,

Away my Jeffe, hafte away.

Hoa, who's within ?

JESSICA above.

Jef. Who are you? tell me for more than certainty, Albeit I'll fwear that I do know your tongue.

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jef. Lorenzo certain, and my love indeed: For who love I fo much; and now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

[art.

Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness that thou
Ff. Here catch this casket, it is worth the pains.
Lor. But come at once-

For the clofe night doth play the run-away,
And we are ftaid for at Baffania's feast.

Jef. I will make fait the doors, and gild myfelf With fome more ducats, and be with you ftraight. [Exit from above.

Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor. Befhrew me but I love her heartily;

For the is wife, if I can judge of her:
And fair fhe is, if that mine eyes be true;
And true he is, as the hath prov'd herself;
And therefore like herself, wife, fair, and true,
Shall the be plac'd in my conftant foul.

Enter JESSICA, to them.

What, art thou come? on, gentlemen, away;
Our mafquing mates by this time for us ftay. [Exeunt.*

SCENE changes to BELMONT.

SCENE,

Enter POR TIA, with MOROCHIUS, and both their Trains. Pox. Go, draw afide the curtains, and discover

The feveral caskets to this noble prince.

Now make your choice. [Three cafkets are difcovered. MOR. The first of gold, which this infcription bears,

Who chufeth me, fhall gain what many men defire.
The fecond, filver, which this promise carries,

C 2

Who

SCENE, the Ryalto.

Enter SOLARINO and SALANIO.

Sal. Why, man, I faw Bassanio under fail ;

With him is Gratiano gone along;

And in their fhip, I'm fure, Lorenzo is not.

Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he de ferves.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all he hath:
How shall I know if I do chufe aright?

Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince;
If you chufe that, then I am yours withal.
Mor. Some God direct my judgment! Let me fee,
I will furvey th' infcriptions back again;
What fays this leaden cafket?

Sola.

Who chufeth me, muft give and hazard all he hath..
Muf give for what? for lead! hazard, for lead!'
This cafket threatens. Men that hazard all,

De it in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind ftoops not to fhows of drofs;
I'll then not give nor hazard aught, for lead.
What fays the filver with her virgin hue?

Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he deferves.
As much as he deferves! Paufe there, Morochius,
And weigh thy value with an even hand,

If thou be'ft rated by thy eftimation,

Thou doft deferve enough; and yet enough
May not extend fo far as to the lady:
And yet to be afraid of my deferving,
Were but a weak difabling of myself.
As much as I deferve-why, that's the lady
I do in birth deferve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding:
But more than thefe, in love I do deferve,
What, if I ftray'd no farther, but chofe here?
Let's fee, once more, this faying, grav'd in gold a
Who chufeth me, fhall gain what many men defire.
Why that's the lady; all the world defires her;
From the four corners of the earth they come,
To kifs this fhrine, this mortal breathing faint.
Th' Hyrcanian deferts, and the vafty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares, now,
For princes come to view fair Portia.
The wat'ry kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heav'n, 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 heav'nly picture.

Is't

Sola. The villain Jew, with outcries rais'd the duke Who went with him to fearch Baffanio's fhip,

Sal. He came too late, the fhip was under fail;
But there the duke was given to understand,
That in a Gondola were feen together
Lorenzo and his am'rous Jeffica:
Befides, Anthonio certify'd the duke,
They were not with Bassanio, in his ship.
Sola. I never heard a paffion fo confus'd,
So ftrange, outrageous, and fo variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets;
My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter,
Fled with a chriftian! O my chriftian ducats!
Juftice, the law, my ducats, and my daughter!
A fealed bag, two fealed bags of ducats,

Is't like, that lead contains her? 'twere damnation,
To think fo base a thought: it were too grofs
To rib her fearcloth in the obfcure grave.
Or fhall I think in filver she's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalu'd to try'd gold?
O finful thought, never fo rich a gem

Was fet in worse than gold! They have in England,
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel,

Stamped in gold; but that's infculpt upon:

But here, an angel in a golden bed

Lies all within. Deliver me the key!
Here do I chufe, and thrive I as I may !

POR. There, take it, prince, and if my form lie there,

Then I am yours.

[Unlocking the gold cafket, MOR. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death,

Within whofe empty eye there is a fcrowl.

I'll read the writing.

All that glifters is not gold,
Often you have heard that told ;
Many a man his life hath fold,
But my outfide to behold.
Gilded wood may worms infold:

Had you been as wife as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your anfwer had not been infcroll'd:.
Fare you well, your fuit is cold.

Cold, indeed, and labour loft:

Then farewell, heat; and welcome, froft:
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart,
To take a tedious leave: thus lofers part.

POR. A gentle riddance: draw the curtains: go.
Let all of his complexion chuse me fo.

C 3