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ANTONIO. 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,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn;
And such a want-wit2 sadness makes of me
That I have much ado3 to know myself.
SALARINO. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There, where your argosies with portly sail,
SALANIO. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still 9
Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind,
Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads;
Would make me sad.
My wind cooling my broth
Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
And not bethink me straight 13 of dangerous rocks,
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
That such a thing bechanc'd would make me sad?
Is sad to think upon his merchandise.
ANTONIO. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it,
SALARINO. Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy
For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry,
And other of such vinegar aspect
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile,
Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.
SALANIO. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well:
We leave you now with better company.
SALARINO. I would have stay'd till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented 20 me.
ANTONIO. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
I take it, your own business calls on you
And you embrace the occasion to depart.
Good morrow, my good lords.
Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when?
You grow exceeding strange : 21 must it be so?
We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.
[Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO.
LORENZO. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
We two will leave you: but at dinner-time,
I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.
BASSANIO. I will not fail you.
GRATIANO. You look not well, Signior Antonio;
You have too much respect upon
22 the world:
They lose it that do buy it with much care:
Believe me, you are marvellously changed.
ANTONIO. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano: A stage where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.
Let me play the fool:
And when I ope my lips let no dog bark!"
That therefore only are reputed wise
For saying nothing, who, I am very sure,
If they should speak, would almost damn those ears
Fare ye well awhile:
I'll end my exhortation after dinner.
LORENZO. 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.
GRATIANO. Well, keep me company but two years moe,31 Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
ANTONIO. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear.32 GRATIANO. Thanks, i̇' faith, for silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried. [Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO.
ANTONIO. Is that any thing now?
BASSANIO. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as 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.
ANTONIO. Well, tell me now what lady is the same
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
That you to-day promised to tell me of?
BASSANIO. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
How much I have disabled mine estate,
By something 33 showing a more swelling port
To unburden all my plots and purposes
How to get clear of all the debts I owe.
ANTONIO. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; And if it stand, as you yourself still 37 do, Within the eye of honour,38 be assured,
My purse, my person, my extremest means,
Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.
BASSANIO. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft
I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
The self-same way, with more advised 4° watch,
To find the other forth,11 and by adventuring both
I owe you much, and like a wilful 43 youth,
To shoot another arrow that self 44
Which you 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 rest debtor for the first.
ANTONIO. You know me well, and herein spend but time
To wind about my love with circumstance;
And out of doubt you do me now more wrong
In making question of my uttermost
Than if you had made waste of all I have:
BASSANIO. In Belmont is a lady richly left;
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her seat of Belmont Colchos' strand,52