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ACT V. SCENE I.
Belmont. A Grove, or green Place, before Portia's
House. Enter LORENZO, and JESSICA.
moon shines bright :-In such a night as
Jes. In such a night,
Jes. In such a night,
Lor. In such a night,
Jes. And in such a night,
Lor. And in such a night,
Jes. I would out-night you, did no body come ;
Enter a Servant.
lor. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
Serv. Stephano is my name ; and I bring word,
Lor. Who comes with her ?
Serv. None, but a holy herinit, and her maid. 40
Laun. Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola, sola!
Laun. Sola! did you see master Lorenzo, and mistress Lorenza? sola, sola !
Lor. Leave hollowing, man; here.
Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news; my master will be here ere morning, sweet soul. [Exit.
Lor, Let's in, and there expect their coming. And yet no matter ;-why should we go in ? My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, Within the house, your mistress is at hand; And bring your musick forth into the air.
[Exit Servant. How sweet the moon-light sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of musick Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony. Sit, Jessica: Look, how the floor of heaven Is thick inlay'd with pattens of bright gold; There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold's, But in his motion like an angel sings, Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims, Such harmony is in immortal souls ;
70 But, whilst this inuddy' vesture of decay Doth grosly close it in, we cannot hear it..
Come, ho, and wake Diana with a lrymn;
[Musick. Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive : For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, Fetching mad bounds, bellowing, and neighing loud,
80 Which is the hot condition of their blood; If they perchance but hear a trumpet sound, Or any
air of musick touch their ears, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, Their savage eyes turn’d to a modest gaze, By the sweet power of musick: Therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and
Șince nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
Enter PORTIA, and NERISSA, at a Distance. Por. That light we see, is burning in my hall. How far that little candle throws his beams !
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
Ner. It is your musick, madamn, of the house.
Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect; Metlinks, it sounds niuch sweeter than by day.
Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.
Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,
cuckow, By the bad voice.
Lor. Dear lådy, welcome home.