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. Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains:
Por. Go, draw afide the curtains and discover The fev'ral cafkets to this Noble Prince. Now make your choice. [Three cafkets are difcover'd. Mor. The first of gold, which this infcription bears, Who chufeth me, shall gain what many men defire. The fecond filver, which this promife carries, Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he defervés. 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 chuse the right?
Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; you chufe that, then I am your's withal.
Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me fee,
I will furvey th' infcriptions back again;
What fays this leaden cafket?
Who chufeth me, muft give and hazard all he hath.
Muft give, for what? for lead? hazard for lead?
This cafket threatens. Men that hazard all,
Do it in hope of fair advantages:
A golden mind ftoops not to shows of drofs
I'll then not give, nor hazard, aught for lead.
What fays the filver, with her virgin hue?
Who chufeth me, shall get as much as he deferves:
As much as he deferves? pause 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 deferving,
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 deferve.
What if I ftray'd no farther, but chofe here?
VOL. II.
Let's fee once more this faying grav'd in gold.
Who chufeth me, fhall 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 kifs this fhrine, this mortal breathing faint.
Th' Hyrcanian deferts, and the vafty 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 base a thought: it were too grofs
To rib her cerecloth 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 so 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
Lies 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 lie there,
[Unlocking the gold cafket. Mor. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death, Within whofe empty eye there is a scrowl:
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,
Your anfwer had not been inferol'd,
Fare you well, your fuit is cold.
Mor. Cold, indeed, and labour loft;
Then farewel heat, and welcome frost •
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus lofers part.
Por. A gentle riddance: draw the curtains; goLet all of his complexion chufe me fo.
Enter Solarino and Salanio.
Sal. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under fail; With him is Gratiano gone along;
And in their fhip. I'm fure Lorenzo is not.
Sola. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the Duke,
Who went with him to search Baffanio's fhip.
Sal. He came too late, the ship was under fail;
But there the Duke was given to understand,
That in a gondola were feen together
Lorenzo and his am'rous Jeffica:
Befides, Anthonio certify'd the Duke,
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
Sola. I never heard a paflion fo confus'd,
So ftrange, outrageous, and fo variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets;
My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter,
Fled with a Christian? O my Christian ducats!
Juftice, the law, my ducats, and my daughter !
A fealed bag, two fealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats, ftol'n from me by my daughter !
And jewels too, ftones, rich and precious ftones,
Stol'n by my daughter! Juftice! find the girl;
She hath the ftones upon her, and the ducats.
Sal. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying his ftones, his daughter, and his ducats.
Sola. Let good Anthonio look he keep his day;
Or he fhall pay for this.
Sal. Marry, well remember'd.
I reafon'd with a Frenchman yesterday,
Who told me, in the narrow feas that part
The French and English, there miscarried
A veffel of our country richly fraught:
I thought upon Anthonio, when he told me,
And wifh'd in filence that it were not his.
Sola. You were beft to tell Anthonio what you hear;
Yet do not fuddenly, for it may grieve him.
Sal. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth.
I faw Baffanio and Anthonio part.
Baffanio told him, he would make fome speed
Of his return. He anfwer'd, Do not fo;
Slubber not bufinefs for my fake, Baffanio ;
But stay the very riping of the time :
And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love :
Be merry, and employ your chiefeft thoughts
To courtship, and fuch fair oftents of love,
As fhall conveniently become you there.
And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And, with affection wond'rous fenfible,
He wrung Baffanio's hand, and so they parted.
Sola. I think he only loves the world for him.
I pray thee, let us go and find him out,
And quicken his embraced heaviness
With fome delight or other.
Enter Neriffa with a fervant.
Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain The Prince of Arragon has ta'en his oath,
And comes to his election prefently.
Enter Arragon, his train, Portia. Flor. Cornets. The cafkets are difcover'd.
Por. Behold, there ftand the cafkets, Noble Prince': If you chufe that wherein I am contain'd,
Strait fhall our nuptial rites be folemniz'd;
But if you fail, without more fpeech, my Lord,
You must be gone from hence immediately.
Ar. I am injoin'd by oath t' obferve three things:
First, never to unfold to any one
Which cafket 'twas I chofe; next, if I fail
Of the right cafket, never in my life
To woo a maid in way of marriage;
Laft, if I fail in fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave you, and be gone.
Por. To thefe injunctions every one doth fwear, That comes to hazard for my worthless felf.
Ar. And fo have I addrefs'd me; fortune now To my heart's hope! gold, filver, and base lead. Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all he hath. You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard.
What fays the golden cheft? ha, let me fee;
Who chufeth me, shall gain what many men defire.
What many men defire- -that may be meant
Of the fool-multitude, that chufe by show,
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
Which pry not to th' interior, but, like the martlet,
Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Ev'n in the force and road of casualty.
I will not chufe what many men defire,
Because I will not jump with common spirits,
And rank me with the barb'rous multitudes.
Why, then, to thee, thou filver treasure-house ;
Tell me once more, what title thou dost bear.
Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he deferves 3
And well faid too, for who fhall go about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit? Let none prefume
To wear an undeferved dignity:
O that eftates, degrees, and offices,
Were not deriv'd corruptly, that clear honour
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
How many then fhould cover, that ftand bare!
How many be commanded, that command?
How much low peafantry would then be gleaned
From the true feed of honour? how much honour
Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be new vanned? Well, but to my choice:
Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he deferves:
I will affume defert; give me a key for this,
And inftantly unlock my fortunes here.
Por. Too long a paufe for that which you find there. [Unlocking the filver cafket. Ar. What's here! the portrait of a blinking idiot, Prefenting me a schedule? I will read it.
How much unlike art thou to Portia?
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