Imatges de pÓgina


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UK E of Venice.

D Morochius,

Morochius, a Moorish Prince."

Prince of Arragon.

Anthonio, the Merchant of Venice.


Suiters to


Baffanio, his Friend, in love with Portia.

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Launcelot, a Clawn, Servant to the Jew.

Gobbo, an old Man, Father to Launcelot.

Portia, an Heiress of great Quality and Fortune. Neriffa, Confident to Portia.

Jeffica, Daughter to Shylock.

Senators of Venice, Officers, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants.

SCENE partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia upon the Continent.


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The Merchant of Venice.


Enter Anthonio Solarino and Salanio.


N footh I know not why I am fo fad,
It wearies me; you fay it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it;
What Stuff'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn; and fuch a want-wit Sadness
makes of me,

That I have much ado to know my felf.
Sal. Your Mind is toffing on the Ocean,
There where your Argofies with portly Sail,
Like Signiors and rirh Burgers on the Flood,
Or as it were the Pageants of the Sea,.
Do over-peer the petty Traffickers

That Curtfie to them, do them Reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven Wings.

Sola. Believe me, Sir, had I fuch Venture forth,
The better Part of my Affections would
Be with my Hopes abroad. I fhould be still
Plucking the Grafs, to know where fits the Wind,
Peering in Maps for Ports, and Peers, and Roads;
And every Object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my Ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me fad.


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 fee the fandy Hour-glass run,
But I fhould think of Shallows and of Flats,
And fee my wealthy Andrew dock'd in Sand,
Vailing her high Top lower than her Ribs,
To kifs her Burial: Should I go to Church
And fee the holy Edifice of Stone,

And not bethink me ftraight of dangerous Rocks?
Which touching but my gentle Veffel's Side,
Would scatter all her 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 fhallI lack the Thought,
That fuch a thing bechanc'd would make me fad?
But tell not me, I know Anthonio

Is fad to think upon his Merchandize.

Anth. Believe me, no, I think my Fortune for it,
My Ventures are not in one Bottom trusted,
Nor to one Place; nor is my whole Eftate
Upon the Fortune of this prefent Year:
Therefore my Merchandize makes me not fad.
Sola. Why then you are in Love.

Anth. Fie, fie.

Sola. Not in Love neither! then let us fay you are fid, Because you are not merry; and 'twere as eafie For you to laugh and leap, and fay you are merry, Because you are not fad. Now by two-headed Janus, Nature hath fram'd ftrange Fellows in her Time: So that will evermore peep through their Eyes, And laugh like Parrots at a Bag-piper; And other of fuch vinegar Afpect,

That they'll not fhew their Teeth in way of Smile,

Though Neftor fwear the Jeft be laughable.

Enter Baffanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano.

Sal. Here bomes Bassanio,

Your most noble Ki fman;

Gratiano and Lorenzo: Fare ye well;

We leave you now with better Company.


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