Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.

Sby. Why there, there, there, there! a diamond gone, cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! the curse never fell upon our nation 'till now, I never felt it'cill now; two thousand ducats in that, and other precious, precious jewels! I would, my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear; o, would she were hers'd at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin. No news of them; why, fo! and I know not what's spent in the search: why, thou loss upon loss! the thief gone with so much, and so much to find the thief; and no satisfaction, no revenge, nor no ill luck stirring, but what lights o' my shoulders ; no sighs but o' my breathing, no tears but o' my shedding.

Tub. Yes, other men have ill luck too; Antbonio, as I heard in Genoua

Sby. What, what, what? ill luck, ill luck?

Tub. Hath an Argofie cast away, coming from Tripolis.

Sby. I thank God, I thank God; is it true? is it true?

7 ub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck,

Sby. I thank thee, good Tubal; good news, good news; ha, ha, where ? in Genoua?

Tub. Your daughter spent in Genoua, as I heard, one night, fourscore ducats.

Sby. Thou stick'st a dagger in me; I shall never see my gold again; fourscore ducats at a sitting, fourscore ducats !

Tub. There came divers of Anthonio's creditors in my company to Venice, that swear he cannot chuse but break.

Shy. I am glad of it, I'll plague him, I'll torture him; I am glad of it.

Tub.

a

Tub. One of them shew'd me a ring, that he had of your daughter for a monky.

Shy. Ouc upon her! thou torturest me, Tubal; it was my Turquoise, I had it of Leab when I was a batchelor; I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkies.

Tub. But Anthonio is certainly undone.

Sby. Nay, that's true, that's very true ; go fee me an officer, bespeak him a fortnight before. I will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for were he out of Venice, I can make what merchandize I will: go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our fynagogue; go, good Tubal ; at our synagogue, Tubal. (Exeunt.

Enter Bassanio, Portia, Gratiano, and Attendants.

The Caskets are set out.
Por. I Pray you, tarry; pause a day or two,

Before you hazard; for in chusing wrong
I lose your company; therefore, forbear a while.
There's something tells me (but it is not love)
I would not lose you; and you know your self,

;
Hate counsels not in such a quality.
But left you should not understand me well,
And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,
I would detain you here some month or two,
Before you venture for me. I could teach you
How to chuse right, but I am then forsworn:
So will I never be; so you may miss me;
But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin,
That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes,
They have o'erlook'd me, and divided me;
One half of me is yours, the other half yours,

Mine

Mine own, I would say : but if mine, then yours;
And so all yours. Alas! these naughty times
Put bars between the owners and their rights:
And fo tho' yours, not yours, prove it fo,
A Let fortune go to hell for it. Not I.
I speak too long, but 'tis to peece the time,
To eche it, and to draw it out in length,
To stay you from election.

Baj. Let me chuse:
For as I am, I live upon the rack.

Por. Upon the rack, Bafanio ? then confess,
What treason there is mingled with your love. .

Baf. None, but that ugly treason of mistrust,
Which makes me fear th’ enjoying of my love:
There may as well be amity and life
'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love.

Por. Ay, but, I fear, you speak upon the rack; Where men enforced do speak any thing.

Ball. Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth,
Por. Well then, confess and live.

Bas. Confess, and love,
Had been the very sum of my confeffion.
O happy torment, when my torturer

4 Let fortune go to hell for it. nat I.] This line is very obscure. The form of the expression alludes to what she had said of being forsworn. After some struggle, the resolves to keep her oath: And then says, Let fortune go to hell for it. For what! not for telling or favouring Bafanio, which was the temptation the then lay under : for fortune had taken no oath. And, surely, for the more favouring a man of merit, fortune did not deserve (considering how rarely she transgresses this way) so severe a sentence. Much less could the speaker, who favour'd Bafanio, think so. The meaning then must be, Let fortune rather

go hell for not favouring Bassanio, than I for favouring him. So loosely does our author sometimes use his pronouns. does not fignify, Let not I go to hell; for then it should be Let not me. But it is a distinct sentence of itself. And is a very common proverbial speech, signifying, I will have nothing to do with it. Which if the Oxford Editor had considered, he might have spared his pains in changing l into me.

to

Doth teach me answers for deliverance !
But let me to my fortune and the caskets.

Por. Away then! I am lockt in one of them;
If

you do love me, you will find me out.
Nerissa, and the rest, stand all aloof,
Let musick sound, while he doth make his choice;
Then, if he lole, he makes a swan-like end,
Fading in musick. That the comparison
May stand more juft, my eye shall be the stream
And wat'ry death-bed for him: he may win,
And what is musick then ? then musick is
Even as the fourish, when true subjects bow
To a new-crowned monarch: such it is,
As are those dulcet sounds in break of day,
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear,
And summon him to marriage. Now he goes,
With no less presence, but with much more love,
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem
The virgin-tribute, paid by howling Troy
To the lea-monster: I stand for sacrifice;
The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives,
With bleared visages come forth to view
The issue of th' exploit. Go, Hercules !
Live thou, I live; with much, much more dismay
I view the fight, than thou, that mak'st the fray.

[Mufick within. A Song, whilft Baffanio comments on the caskets to

himself.
Tell me, where his fancy bred,
Or in the beart, or in the head?
How begot, how nourished?
Reply, reply.
It is engender'd in the eye,
With gazing fed, and fancy dies
In the cradle where it lzes :

Let

Let us all ring fancy's knell.
I'll begin it.
Ding, dong, bell.

All, Ding, dong, bell.
Ball. So may the outward shows be least themselves:
The world is still deceiv'd with Ornament.
In law, what plea fo tainted and corrupt,
But being season'd with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of evil? in religion,
What damined error, but some sober brow
Will bless it, and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?
There is no vice so simple, but affumes
Some mark of virtue on its outward parts.
How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars;
Who, inward searcht, have livers white as milk?
And these assume but valour's excrement,
To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
And you shall see 'cis purchas'd by the weight,
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lightest, that wear most of it.
So are those crispy snaky golden locks,
Which make such wanton gambols with the wind
Upon supposed fairness, often known
To be the dowry of a second head,
The skull, that bred them, in the fepulchre.
Thus Ornament is but the guilty shore
To a most dang'rous fea; the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,
The seeming truth which cunning times put on
T'entrap the wisest. Then, thou gaudy gold,
Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee:
Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
'Tween man and man: but thou, thou meager lead,