LOR. The moon shines bright:-In such a night as this,
When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise,-in such a night,
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls 29,
And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.

JES.

LOR.

In such a night,
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay'd away.

In such a night,

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand 30

LOR. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
STEPH. A friend.

LOR. A friend? what friend? your name, I
pray you, friend.
STEPH. Stephano is my name; and I bring word,
My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about
By holy crosses 32, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.

LAUN. Sola! Did you see master Lorenzo, and mistress Lorenzo? sola, sola! LOR. Leave hollaing, man; here.

LAUN. Sola! Where? where?

LOR. 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.

[Exit.

LOR. Sweet soul, 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 music forth into the air.

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank 33!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.

Sit, Jessica 34. Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines a of bright gold.
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
But in his motion like an angel sings,

Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins":
Such harmony is in immortal souls;

But whilst this muddy vesture of decay

Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.—

Enter Musicians.

Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;

With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.

JES. I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

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,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;

If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of music 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 music: Therefore, the poet

Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,

But music for the time doth change his nature;

The man that hath no music in himself 35,

Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,

[Exit STEPHANO.

[Music.

Patines. The word in the folio is spelt patens. A patine is the small flat dish or plate used in the service of the altar. Archbishop Laud bequeaths to the Duke of Buckingham his “chalice and patin of gold."

Cherubins. We follow the orthography of the old editions, though cherubim may be more correct. Spenser uses cherubins as the plural of cherubin; Milton, more learnedly, cherubim.

⚫ Close it in. In one of the quartos, and the folio, this is printed close in it; the verb in this case being probably compound-close-in. Close us in has crept into some texts,-for which there is no authority.

Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;

The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:

Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music.

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. When the moon shone we did not see the candle.
POR. So doth the greater glory dim the less:
A substitute shines brightly as a king,
Until a king be by; and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters. Music! hark!
NER. It is your music, madam, of the house.
POR. Nothing is good, I see, without respect;

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

POR. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo,

POR. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare,
Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.
Are they return'd?

[Music ceases.

"Peace! How the moon, &c. So all the old copies. Malone substituted, Peace! Hoa! the moon, thinking that Portia uses the words as commanding the music to cease. This would be a singularly unladylike act of Portia, in reality as well as in expression. We apprehend that, having been talking somewhat loudly to Nerissa as she approached the house, she checks herself as she comes close to it with the interjection-Peace!-equivalent to hush! and then gives the poetical reason for being silent:

"How the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awak'd!"

The stage-direction, Music ceases, is a coincidence with Portia's Peace! but not a consequence of it.

Give order to my servants, that they take

No note at all of our being absent hence;
Nor you, Lorenzo:-Jessica, nor you.

LOR. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet:

We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not.

POR. This night, methinks, is but the daylight sick 37.

It looks a little paler; 't is a day

Such as the day is when the sun is hid.

[A tucket sounds.

Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their Followers.

BASS. We should hold day with the antipodes,

If you
POR. Let me give light, but let me not be light;
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,

would walk in absence of the sun.

And never be Bassanio so for me;

But God sort all!-You are welcome home, my lord. BASS. I thank you, madam: give welcome to my friend.— This is the man, this is Antonio,

To whom I am so infinitely bound.

POR. You should in all sense be much bound to him,

For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.

ANT. No more than I am well acquitted of.
POR. Sir, you are very welcome to our house;

It must appear in other ways than words,
Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.

[GRATIANO and NERISSA seem to talk apart.

GRA. By yonder moon, I swear you do me wrong;
In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk:
Would he were gelt that had it, for my part,
Since you do take it, love, so much at heart.
POR. A quarrel, ho, already? what 's the matter?
GRA. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring

That she did give me; whose posy was
For all the world, like cutler's poetry
Upon a knife, "Love me, and leave me not."
NER. What talk you of the posy, or the value?
You swore to me, when I did give it you,

That you would wear it till the hour of death;
And that it should lie with you in your grave:
Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths,