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MERCHANT of VENICE.
A C T I.
S CE N E I.
A Street in Venice.
I le'weaties me; you fay, it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
Sal. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
Sola. Believe me, Sir, had I such venture forth,
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 see the fandy hour-gloss run, But I should think of shallows and of flats; And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in fand, Vailing her high top lower than her ribs, To kiss her burial. Should I go to church, And see the holy edifice of stone, And not bethink me strait of dang’rous rocks? Which, touching but my gentle vessel's fide, Would scatter all the spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks ; And in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought To think on this, and shall I lack the thought, That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me sad? But tell not me;
I know, Anthonio Is sad to think
Sola. Why then you are in love.
Sola. Not in love neither! then let's say, you're fad,
- Now by two-headed Janus,] Here Shakespear shews his Knowledge in the antique. By two-headed Janus is meant those antique bifrontine Heads, which generally represent a young and smiling
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile,
Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.
: fare ye well ;
Sola. I would have staid 'till I had made you merry,
Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard:
embrace th' occasion to depart.
say, when ?
Sal. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.
Sola. My lord Bassanio, fince you've found Anthonio, We two will leave you; but at dinner-time, I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. Baj. 'I will not fail you. (Exeunt Solar. and Sala.
Gra. You look not well, Signior Anthonio; You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it, that do buy it with much care. Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.
Anth. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, A stage, where every man must play his part, And mine's a fad one.
Gra. Let me play the Fool; With mirth, and laughter, let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Face, together with an old and wrinkled one, being of Pan and Bacchus; of Saturn and Apollo, &c. These are not uncommon in Cole dions of Antiques; and in the Books of the Antiquaries, as Montau con, Spanheim, &c.
Sit like his grandsire cut in Alabaster?
Anthonio, I do know of those,
Lor. Well, we will leave you then 'till dinner-time, I must be one of these same dumb wise men ; For Gratiano never lets me speak.
Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the found of thine own tongue. Anth. Fare well; I'll grow a talker for this gear.
. Gra. Thanks, i'faith ; for filence is only com
mendable In a neats tongue dry'd, and a maid not vendible.
[Exeunt Gra. and Loren. Anth. Is that any thing now?
Baj. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice: his reasons are as * I'll end
ту exhortation after dinner.] The Humour of this consist in its being an Allufion to the Tra&ice of the Puritan Preachers of those Times ; who being generally very long and tedious, were often forced to put off that Part of their Sermon called the Exhortation till after Dinner.
two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall seek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the search.
Anth. Well; tell me now, what lady is the same,
Baj. 'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio,
faint means would grant continuance;
Anth. I pray you, good Baffanio, let me know it;
Bal. In my school-days, when I had lost one laft,
did shoot the first, I do not doubt, As I will watch the aim, or to find both, Or bring your latter hazard back again, And thankfully reft debtor for the first. [time, Anth. You know me well; and herein spend but