Imatges de pÓgina

Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum,
And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the publick street,
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces:
But stop my house's ears, I mean, my casements;
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house.-By Jacob's staff, I swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to night :
But I will go.-Go you before me, sirrah;
Say, I will come.

Laun. I will go before, sir.-
Mistress, look out at window, for all this;
There will come a Christian by,

Will be worth a Jewess' eye.


[Exit LAUN. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha ? Jes. His words were, Farewel, mistress; nothing else.

Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder,

Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day

More than the wild cat; drones hive not with


Therefore I part with him; and part with him

To one that I would have him help to waste
His borrow'd purse.-Well, Jessica, go in;
Perhaps, I will return immediately;
Do, as I bid you,

Shut the doors after you: Fast bind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.





Jes. Farewel; and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost.


The Street. Enter GRATIANO, and SALANIO, in Masquerade.

Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo

Desir'd us to make 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 faster Venus' pigeons fly

To seal love's bonds new made, than they are


To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds: Who riseth from a feast, With that keen appetite that he sits down?

Where is the horse, that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire
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 a prodigal doth she return;
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!




Sal. Here comes Lorenzo ;-more of this here



Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long


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.-Approach;
Here dwells my father Jew :-Ho! who's within?

JESSICA above, in Boy's Clothes.

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, 410 But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou art.

Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains.

I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
For I am much asham'd of my exchange:

But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
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 sooth, are too too light. Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love;

And I should be obscur'd.

Lor. So are you, sweet,

Even 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 some 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 herself;

And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

Enter JESSICA, below.


What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away; Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.


[Exit, with JESSICA, &c.


Anth. Who's there?

Gra. Signior Anthonio?

Anth. Fie, fie, 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 aboard:


I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail, and gone to night.



Belmont. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince of Morocco, and both their Trains.

Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince :

Now make

your choice.


Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears;

Who chuseth me, shall gain what 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 hath.—
How shall I know if I do chuse the right?


The one of them contains my picture, prince;

If you chuse that, then I am yours withal.


Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see,

I will survey the inscriptions back again :

What says this leaden casket?



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