Perhaps, I will return immediately;

Do, as I bid you.

66

Shut the doors after you; fast bind, fast find;"

A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.

[Exit.

JES. Farewell, and if my fortune be not croft,

I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

SCENE VII. The street.

Enter Gratiano and Salanio in masquerade.

GRA. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo der fired us to make a stand.

SAL. His hour is almost past.

GRA. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,

For lovers ever run before the clock.

SAL. O, ten-times fafter Venus' pigeons fly
To feal love's bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

GRA. That ever holds. Who rifeth from a feast,
With that keen appetite that he fits down?
Where is the horse, that doth untread again
His tedious measures with th'unbated fire,
That he did pace them firft? all things that are,
Are with more spirit chafed than enjoy'd.
How like a younker, or prodigal,

The skarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the ftrumpet wind!
How like a prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails,

Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the ftrumpet wind

Enter Lorenzo.

SAL. Here comes Lorenzo.-More of this hereafter.
LOR. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode--

Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait;
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then; come, approach;
Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within?
Jeffica, above, in boy's cloaths.

JES. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll fwear, that I do know your tongue.

LOR. Lorenzo, and thy love.

JES. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed; For whom love I fo much? and now who knows,

But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

LOR. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness, that thou art.

JES. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains

I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me;
For I am much asham'd of my exchange;
-But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy.

LOR. Defcend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
JES. What must I hold a candle to my fhames ?
They in themselves, goodfooth, are too, too, light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,
And I fhould be obscur'd.

LOR. So are you, fweet,

Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy.

But come at once,

For the clofe night doth play the run-away,

And we are staid for at Baffanio's feast.

JES. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself With fome more ducats, and be with you strait.

[Exit from above.

GRA. Now by my hood, a gentile, and no Jew.
LOR. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily;
For fhe is wife, if I can judge of her;
And fair fhe is, if that mine eyes be true;
And true fhe is, as the hath prov'd herself;
And therefore like herself, wife, fair, and true,
Shall she be plac'd in my constant soul.

Enter Jeffica, to them.

What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away;
Our masking mates by this time for us stay.

Enter Anthonio.

ANTH. Who's there?

GRA. Signior Anthonio,

ANTH. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the reft?
'Tis nine o'clock, our friends all stay for you-
No mafque to-night-the wind is come about,
Baffanio presently will go a-board;

I have fent twenty out to feek for you.

GRA. I'm glad on't; I defire no more delight Than to be under fail, and gone to-night.

SCENE VIII. Changes to Belmont.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains.
POR. Go, draw afide the curtains, and discover
The fev'ral caskets to this noble prince.

Now make your choice.

[Three caskets discovered. MOR. The firft of gold, which this infcription bears, "Who chuseth me shall gain what many men defire." The fecond filver, which this promise carries, "Who chuseth me, fhall get as much as he deferves." This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,

"Who chufeth me, muft give and hazard all he hath." How fhall I know, if I do chufe the right?

If

POR. The one of them contains my picture, prince; you chufe that, then I am yours withal.

MOR. Some god direct my judgment! let me fee, I will furvey th' infcriptions back again;

What fays this leaden casket;

"Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all he hath." Must give?-for what? for lead? hazard, for lead? This casket threatens. Men, that hazard all,

Do it in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind stoops not to shows of drofs;

I'll then not give, nor hazard aught for lead.
What fays the filver with her virgin hue?

"Who chuseth me, fhall get as much as he deferves." As much as he deferves ?-Paufe there, Morochius; And weigh thy value with an even hand.

If thou be'ft rated by thy eftimation,
Thou doft deferve enough; and yet enough
May not extend fo far as to the lady;
And yet to be afraid of my deserving,
Were but a weak difabling of myself.

As much as I deferve-why, that's the lady :
I do in birth deferve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding:
But more than thefe, in love I do deserve.
What if I ftray'd no farther, but chose here ?-
Let's fee once more this saying grav'd in gold,
"Who chuseth me, shall gain what many men defire.”
Why, that's the lady; all the world defires her;
From the four corners of the earth they come
To kiss this fhrine, this mortal breathing faint.

Th' Hircanian deserts, and the vastie wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia.
The wat'ry kingdom, whofe ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To ftop the foreign fpirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to fee fair Portia.

One of these three contains her heav'nly picture.

Is't like, that lead contains her? 'twere damnation,
To think fo bafe a thought: it were too grofs
To rib her fearcloth in the obfcure grave.
Or fhall I think, in filver fhe's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalu'd to try'd gold?
O finful thought, never fo rich a gem

Was fet in worse than gold! they have in England
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that's infculpt upon:
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lyes all within. Deliver me the key;

Here do I chufe, and thrive I as I may !

POR, There take it, prince, and if my form lye there,

Then I am yours.

[Unlocking the gold cafket.

MOR. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death

Within whose empty eye there is a scrowl;

I'll read the writing.

All that glifters is not gold,

Often have you heard that told.

Many a man his life hath fold,
But my outfide to behold.

Gilded wood may worms infold:

Had you been as wife as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Bb

VOL. I.