od so a Dun.

care.

Birona

Don.

Bove Biro Dune

LOE Du

'tis;

Biron. How much is it?
Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey.

Borom. Cost. O Lord, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, Cost. 'Tis not so much worth: but, I hope, I was HAB sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for my perfect: I made a little fault in, great.

Bron. own part, lam, as they say, but to parfect one man,- Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the Boret. e'en one poor man; Pompion the great, sir,

best worthy. Biron. Art thou one of the worthies?

Enter Nathaniel arm’d, for Alexander.
Cost. It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompion Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's

Biron. the great: for mine own part, I know not the degree commander; of the worthy; but I am to stand for him. By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conque- Hil

. I Biron. Go, bid them prepare.

ring might;

Boret. Cost. We will turn itfinely off, sir; we will take some My’scutcheon plain declares, that I am Alisander.

[Exit Costard. Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands Prie. King. Birón, they will shame us, let them not ap- too right.

bai proach.

Biron. Your nose smells, no, in this most tenderBiron. We are shame-proof, my lord : and 'tis so- smelling knight. me policy

Prin. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good To have one show worse than the king's and his com- Alexander. pany.

Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's King. I say, they shall not come.

commander;Prin. Nay, my good lord, let me o'er-rule you now; Boyet. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander.

Renee That sport best pleases, that doth least know how : Biron. Pompey the great,

Dum Where zeal strives to content, and the contents Cost. Your servant, and Costard. Die in the zeal of them which it presents,

Biron.Take away the conqueror, take away

Alisander.

Dini Their form confounded makes most form in mirth, Cost. O sir, [To Nathaniel.) you have overthrown When great things labouring perish in their birth. Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of Biron. A right description of our sport, my lord. the painted cloth for this: your lion, that holds his Enter ARMADO. poll-ax sitting on a close-stool, will be given to Ajax :

A: Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expence of thy he will be the ninth worthy. A conqueror, and afcard I

Gave royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words. to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [Nath. re

Du [årmado converses with the King, and delivers him tires.] There, an't shall please you , a foolish mild

Bird a paper.] man; an honest man, look you, and soon dash’d! He Prin. Doth this man serve God?

is a marvellous good neighbour, in sooth; and a very Biron. Why ask you ? good bowler : but, for Alisander, alas, you see, how

Ar Prin. He speaks not like a man of God's making. ;-a little o'erparted. —But there are worthies a

The Arm. That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch: coming will speak their mind in some other sort.

G for, I protest, the schoolmaster is exceeding fantasti- Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey. cal; too, too vain; too, too vain : but we will put it, Enter Holofeknes arm’d, for Judas, and Moth F as they say, to fortuna della guerra. I wish you the

arm’d, for Hercules.

lar peace of mind, most royal couplement! (Exit Årmado. Hol. Great Hercules is presented by this imp,

Du King. Here is like to be a good presence of worthies : Whose club kill'd Cerberus, that three-headed

Lo He presents Hector of Troy: the swain, Pompey the canlis ; great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page, And, when he was a babe, a child, a shrimp,

Lo Hercules; the pedant, Judas Machabacus.

Thus did he strangle serpents in his manus:

Bee And if these four worthies in their first show thrive, Quoniam, he seemeth in minority;

DE These four will change habits, and present the other Ergo, I come with this apology:five.

Keep some state in thy exit, and vanish. (Exit Moth. Biron. There is five in the first show,

Hol. Judas I am, -
King. You are deceiv'd, 'tis not so.

Dum. A Judas!
Biron. The pedant, the braggart, the hedge-priest, Hol. Not Iscariot, sir.
the fool, and the boy:-
Judas I am, ycleped Machabaeus.

PE
Abate a throw at novum; and the whole world again, Dum. Judas Machabaeus clept, is plain Judas.
Cannot prick out five such, take each one in his vein. Biron. A kissing traitor!-How art thou prov'd Judas?
King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes

Hol. Judas I am,-
amain. (Seats brought for the King, Princess, etc. Dum. The more shame for

you,

Judas.
Pageant of the Nine Worthies.

Hol. What mean you, sir?
EnterCostard arm’d, for Pompey.

Boyet. To make Judas hang himself.
Cost. I Pompey ain,

Ilol. Begin, sir,; you are my elder.
Boyet. You lie, you are not he.

Biron. Well follow'd: Judas was hanged on an elder.
Cost. I Pompey am,

Ilol. I will not be put out of countenance.
Boyet. With libbard's head on knec.

Biron. Because thou hast no face.
Biron.Well said, old mocker; I must needs be friends Hol. What is this?
with thee.

Boyet. A cittern head.
Cost. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big,- Dum. The head of a bodkin.
Dum, The great.

Biron. A death's face in a ring.
Cost. It is great, sir : -Pompey surnam'd the great; Long. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen.
That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my Boyet. The pummel of Caesar's faulchion.
fue to sweat :

Dumn. The cary'd-bone face on a flask.
And travelling along this coast, I here am come by Biron. St George's half-cheek in a brooch.
chance ;

Dum. Ay, and in a brooch of lead.
And lay my arms before the legs of this sweet lass of Biron. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer :
France.

And now, forward! for we have put thee in counte-
If your ladyship would say, Thanks, Pompey, I had
done.

Hol. You have put me out of countenance.

2

nance.

be merry:

ird

id

Biron. False; we have given thee faces.

Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in's belly Hol. But you have outfac'd them all.

than will sup a flea.
Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do so.

Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee.
Boyet. Therefore, as heis, an ass, let him go. Cost. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern
And so adien, sweet Jude! nay, why dost thou stay? man; I'll flash; I'll do it by the sword:--
Dum. For the latter end of his name.

I pray you, let me borrow my arms again.
Biron. For the ass to the Jude; give it him :-Jud-as, Duin. Room for the incensed worthies !
away!

Cost. I'll do it in my shirt.
Hol. This is not generous, not gentle, not humble. Dum. Must resolute Pompey!
Boyet. A light for monsieur Judas : it grows dark, he Moth. Master, let me take you a button-hole lower.
may stumble.

Do you not see, Pompey is uncasing for the combat ? Prin. Alas, poor Machabaeus, how hath he been What mean you? you will lose your reputation. baited!

Arm. Gentlemen, and soldiers, pardon me, I will not Enter ARMADO arm’d, for Hector.

combat in

my

shirt.
Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector Dum. You may not deny it; Pompey hath made the
in arms.

challenge.
Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, I will now Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will.

Biron. What reason have

yon

for’t? King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of this. Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt; I go Boyet. But is this Hector ?

woolward for penance. Dum. I think, Hector was not so clean timber'd. Boyet. True, and it was enjoin'd him in Rome for Long. His leg is too big for Hector.

want of linen ; since when, I'll be sworn, he wore Dum. More calf, certain.

none, but a dish-clout of Jaquenetta's; and that ’a Boyet. No; he is best endued in the small.

wears next his heart, for a favour.
Biron. This cannot be Hector.

Enter Mercade.
Dum. He's a god or a painter; for he makes faces. Mer. God save you, madam!
Arm. The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Piin. Welcome, Mercade;
Gave Hector a gift,

But that thou interrupt'st our merriment.
Dum. A gilt nutmeg.

Mer. I am sorry, madam; for the news I bring,
Biron. A lemon.

Is heavy in my tongue. The king your father-
Long. Stuck with cloves.

Prin. Dead, for my life.
Dum. No, cloven.

Mer. Even so; my tale is told.
Arm. Peace!

Biron. Worthies, away! the scene begins to cloud.
The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Arm. For mine own part, I breathe free breath: I
Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion ;

have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of 4 man so breath'd, that certain he would fight, yea discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. From morn till night, out of his pavilion.

(Exeunt Worthies. lam that flower, –

King. How fares your majesty ?
Dum. That mint,

Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night.
Long. That columbine.

King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay.
Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongne ! Prin. Prepare, I say.--I thank you, gracious lords,
Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs against For all your fair endeavours; and entreat,
Hector.

Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe
Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound.

In your rich wisdom, to excuse, or hide, Arm. The sweet war-man is dead ard rotten ; sweet The liberal opposition of our spirits : chucks, beat not the bones of the buried : when he If over-boldly we have borne ourselves breath’d, he was a man-But I will forward with my In the converse of breath, your gentleness device: Sweet royalty, [To the Princess.] bestow on Was guilty of it.Farewell, worthy lord! me the sense of hearing. (Biron whispers Costard. A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue: Prin. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted. Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper.

For my great suit so easily obtain'd.
Boyet. Loves her by the foot.

King. The extreme parts of time extremely form
Dum. He may not by the yard.

All causes to the purpose of his speed;
Arm. This liector far surmounted Hannibal,– And often, at his very loose, decides
Cost. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; That, which long process could not arbitrate:
she is two months on her way.

And though the mourning brow of progeny
Arm. What meanest thou ?

Forbid the smiling courtesy of love,
Cost. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the The holy suit, which fain it would convince;
poor wench is cast away: she's quick; the child brags Yet, since love's argument was first on foot,
in her belly already; 'tis yours.

Let not the cloud of sorrow justle it Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates ? From what it purpos'd; since, to wail friends lost, thon shalt die.

Is not by much so wholesome, profitable, Cost. Then shall Hector be whipp'd for Jaquenetta As to rejoice at friends but newly found. that is quick by him; and hang’d, for Pompey that is Prin. I understand you not ; my griefs are double. dead by him.

Biron. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of Dum. Most rare Pompey!

grief;Boyet. Renowned Pompey!

And by these badges understand the king. Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pom- For your fair sakes have we neglected time, pey! Pompey the huge!

Play'd foul play with our oaths; your beauty, ladies, Dum, Hector trembles.

Had much deformed us, fashioving our humours
Biron. Pompey is mov’d. — More Ates, more Ates; Even to the opposed end of our intents:
stir them on! 'stir them on!

And what in us hath seem'd ridiculous,
Dum. Hector will challenge him.

As love is full of unbefitting strains;

All wanton as a child, skipping, and vain;

Dum, I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then.
Form’d by the eye, and, therefore, like the eye, Kath. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again.
Full of strange shapes, of habits, and of forms, Long. What says Maria?
Varying in subjects as the eye doth roll

Mar. At the twelvemonth's end,
To every varied object in his glance:

l'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. Which party-coated presence of loose love

Long. I'll stay with patience; but the time is Put on by lis, if, in your heavenly eyes,

long. Have misbecom'd our oaths and gravities,

Mar. The liker yon; few taller are so young.
Those heavenly eyes, that look into these faults, Biron, Studies my lady? mistress look on me,
Suggested us to make. Therefore, ladies,

Behold the window of my heart, mine eye,
Our love being yours, the error that love makes What humble suit attends thy answer there;
Is likewise yours: we to ourselves prove false, Impose some service on me for thy love.
By being onee false for ever to be true

Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón,
To those, that make us both, --fair ladies, you: Before I saw you: and the world's large tongue
And even that falsehood, in itself a sin,

Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks; Thus purifies itself, and turns to grace.

Full of comparisons and wounding flouts; Prin. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love; Which you on all estates will execute, Your favours, the embassadors of love;

That lie within the mercy of your wit: And, in our maiden council, rated them

To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain; At courtship, pleasant jest, and courtesy,

And, therewithal, to win me, if you please, As bombast, and as lining to the time :

(Without the which I am not to be won,) But more devout than this, in our respects,

You shall this twelvemonth term, from day to day,
Have we not been; and therefore met your loves Visit the speechless sick, and still converse
In their own fashion, like a merriment.

With groaning wretches; and your task shall be,
Dum. Our letters, madam, show'd much more than with all the fierce endeavour of your wit,
jest.

To enforce the pained impotent to smile. Long. So did our looks.

Biron. To move wild laughter in the throat of Ros. We did not quote them so.

death? King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, It cannot be; it is impossible: Grant us your loves.

Mirth cannot move a soulin agony. Prin. A time, methinks, too short

Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing spirit, To make a world-without-end bargain in :

Whose influence is begot of that loose grace, No, no, my lord, your grace is perjur'd much, Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: Full of deur guiltiness; and, therefore this,

A jest's prosperity lies in the ear If for my love (as there is no such cause)

of him that hears it, never in the tongue You will do aught, this shall yon do for me:

of him that makes it: then, if sickly ears, Your oath I will not trust; but go with speed Deafʼd with the clamours of their own dear groans, Du To some forlorn and naked hermitage, Will hear your idle scorns, continue then,

PMI Remote from all the pleasures of the world; And I will have you, and that fault withal ;

Pri There stay, until the twelve celestial signs But, if they will not, throw away that spirit, Have brought about their annual reckoning:

And I shall find you empty of that fault, If this austere insociable life

Right joyful of your reformation. Change not your ofler, made in heat of blood; Biron. A twelvemonth? well, befal what will befal,

bu If frosts, and fasts, hard lodging, and thin weeds, I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. Nip not the gaudy blossoms of your love,

Prin. Ay, sweet my lord; and so I take my leave. But that it bear this trial, and last love;

[To the King Then, at the expiration of the year,

King. No, madam: we will bring you on your way. Come challenge, challengeme by these deserts, Biron. Our wooing doth not end like an old play; And, by this virgin palm, now kissing thine,

Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy I will be thinc; and, till that instant, shut

Might well have made our sport a comedy, My woeful self up in a mourning house;

King. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a day, Raining the tears of lamentation

And then 'twill end.
For the remembrance of my father's death.

Biron. That's too long for a play.
If this thou do deny, let our hands part;
Neither intitled in the other's heart.

Enter ARMADO,
King. If this, or more than this, I would deny, Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me,--

To flatter up these powers of mine with rest, Prin. Was not that Hector?
The sudden hand of death close up mine eye!

Dum. The worthy knight of Troy.
Rence ever then my heart is in thy breast. Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger, and take leave: 1
Biron. And what to me, my love, and what to me? ama votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the
Ros. You must be purged too, your sins are rank; plough for her sweet love three years. But, most estce-
You are attaint with faults and perjury;

med greatness, will you hear the dialogue that thetwo Therefore, if you my favour mean to get,

learned men have compiled, in praise of the owl and A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, the cuckoo ? it should have followed in the end of our But seek the weary beds of people sick.

show.
Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? King. Call them forth quickly, we will do so.
Kath. A wife! A beard, fair health, and honesty; Arm. Holla! approach.
With three-fold love I wish you all these three.
Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? Enter Holofernes, NATHANIEL, Moth, CostaRD, and
Ka:h. Not so, my lord ;-a twelvemonth and a day,

others.
I'llivark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say: This side is Hiems, winter ; this Ver, the spring; the
Come, when the king doth to my lady come,
Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some.

one maintain'd by the owl, the other by the cuckoo.
Ver, begin.

is

SONG.

III.

Winter. When icicles hang by the wall,
I.

And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
Spring. When daisies pied, and violets blue,

And Tom bears logs into the hall,
And lady-smocks all silver white,

And milk comes frozen home in pail,
And cuckoo buds of yellow hue,

When blood is nipp’d, and ways be foul, Do paint the meadows with delight,

Then nightly sings the staring owl,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,

To-who;
Mocks ‘married men, for thus sings he,

Tu-whit, to-who, a merry note,
Cuckoo;

While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.
Cuckoo, cuckoo,-0 word of fear,

IV.
Unpleasing to a married ear!

When all aloud the wind doth blow,
II.

And coughing drowns the parson's saw,
When shepherds pipe on oaten straws,

And birds sit brooding in the snow,
And merry larks are ploughmen's clocks,

And Marian's nose looks red and raw,
When turtles tread, and rooks, and daws,

When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, And maidens bleach their summer smocks,

Then nightly sings the staring owl,
The cuckoo then, on every tree,

To-who;
Mocks married men, for thus sings he,

Tu-whit, to-who, a merry note,
Cuckoo;

While greasy

Joan doth keel the pot. Cuckoo, cuckoo,-0 word of fear,

Arm. The words of Mercury are harsh afterthe songs Unpleasing to a married ear?

(of Apollo. You, that way; we, this way. (Exeunt.

!

MERCHANT OF VENICE.

Per sons of the B r a m a.
Duke of Venice.

Launcelot Gobbo, a clown, servant to Shylock.
Prince of Morocca; } suitors to Portia.

OLD Gobbo, father to Launcelot.
Prince of Arragon,

SALERIO, a messenger from Venice.
Antonio, the Merchant of Venice:

LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio.
Bassanio, his friend.

BALTHAZAR,
SALANIO,

STEPHANO, )

servants to Portia.
Salarino, friends to Antonio and Bassanio. Portia, a rich heiress.
GRATIAXO,

Nerissa, her waiting-maid.
Lorenzo, in love with Jessica.

Jessica, daughtur iv Shylock.
SHYLOCK, a Jew.

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of
Tueal, a Jew, his friend.

Justice, Jailor, Servants, and other Attendants. Scene,-partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia, on the Continent.

-ACT I.
SCENE I.-Venice. A Street.
Enter Antonio, Salarino, and SalaniO.
Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad;
It wearies me; you say, it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
Whatstuff’tis made of, whereofit is born,
I am to learn;
And snch a want-wit sadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.
Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There, where your argosies with portly sail, -
Like signiors and rich burghers of the flood,
Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,–
Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
That curt'sy to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind;
Peering in maps for ports, and piers, and roads,

their

And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me sad.

Salar. 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 sandy hour-glass run,
But I should think of shallows and of flats;
And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand,
Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs,
To kiss her burial. Should go to church,
And see the holy edifice of stone,
And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks ?
Which touching but my gentle vessel'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 shall I lack the thought,
That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me sad?
But, tell not me;

know, Antonio
Is sad to think upon his merchandise.
Ant. Believe me, no : I thank my fortune forit,

dolow

a

TITE

a

My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, For Gratiano never lets me speak.
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more,
Upon the fortune of this present year:

Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Therefore, my merchandise makes me not sad. Ant. Farewell ; I'll grow a talker for this gear. Salan. Why then you are in love.

Gra.Thanks, i' faith; for silence is only commendable be, Ant. Fie, fie!

In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say, you

(Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo. are sad,

Ant. Is that any thing now?
Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing,

SC
For you to laugh, and leap, and say, you are merry, more than any man in all Venice: his reasons are as
Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you Per
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when you th
Some, that will evermore peep through their eyes, have them, they are not worth the search.

Ver And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper ;

Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is this same, And other of such vinegar aspect,

To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, That you to-day promised to tell me of?

art Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,

How much I have disabled mine estate, Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.

By something showing a more swelling port, Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kins- Than my faint means would grant continuance.

Р. man, Nor do I now make moan to be abrigd’d

de Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare you well; From such a noble rate; but my chief care

P We leave you now with better company.

Is, to come fairly off from the great debts, Salar. I would have staid till I had made you merry, Wherein my time, something too prodigal, If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Hath left me gaged: to you, Antonio, Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I owe the most, in money, and in love; I take it, your own business calls on you,

And from your love I have a warranty And you embrace the occasion to depart.

To unburthen all my plots, and purposes,
Salar. Good morrow, my good lords !

How to get clear of all the debts I owe.
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
Say, when?

And, if it stand, as you yourself still do,
You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? Within the eye of honour, be assur'd,
Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. My purse, my person, my extremest means,

[Exeunt Salarino and Salanio. Lie all unlock'd to your occasions, Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, Wetwo will leave you : but, at dinner time,

I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. The self-same way, with more advised watch,
Bass. I will not fail you.

To find the other forth; and by advent'ring both,
Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio ; I oft found both : Iurge this childhood proof,
You have too much respect upon the world : Because what follows is pure innocence.
They lose it, that do buy it with much care. I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth,
Believe me, you are marvellously chang’d.

That which I owe is lost; but if you please
Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano ; To shoot another arrow that self way,
A stage, where every man must play a part, Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
And mine a sad one.

As I will watch the aim, or to find both,
Gra. Let me play the fool:

Or bring your latter hazard back again, With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And thankfully rest debtor for the first. Ant let my liver rather heat with wine,

Ant. You know mewell, and herein spend but time, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.

To wind about my love with circumstance:
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?

In making question of my uttermost,
Sleep, when he wakes ? and creep into the jaundice Than if you had made waste of all I have.
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio, – Then do but say to me what I should do,
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ; That in your kvowledge may by me be done,
There are a sort of men, whose visages

And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak !
Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond;

Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, And do a wilful stillness entertain,

And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion

Of wond'rous virtues; sometimes from her eyes of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;

I did receive fair speechless messages : As who should say, I am Sir Oracle,

Her name is Portia ; nothing undervalued And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!

To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia. 0, my Antonio, I do know of these,

Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth ; That therefore only are reputed wise,

For the four winds blow in from every coast For saying nothing; who, I am very sure,

Renowned suitors : and her sunny locks If they should speak, would almost damn those cars, Hang on her temples like a golden fleece : Which hearing them, would call their brothers, fools. Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' strand, I'll tell thee more of this another time:

And many Jasons come in quest of her. But fish not, with this melancholy bait,

O, my Antonio, had I but the means For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.

To hold a rival place with one of them, Come, good Lorenzo:-— fare ye well, a while; I have a mind presages me such thrift, I'll end my exhortation after dinner.

That I should questionless be fortunate. Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time: Ant. Thou know'st, that all my fortunes are at sea ; I must be one of these same dumb wise men, Nor have I money, nor commodity

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