I will not shame myself to give you this.
Por. I will have nothing else but only this;
And now, methinks, I have a mind to it.

Bass. There's more depends on this, than on the value.

The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,
And find it out by proclamation;
Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.

Por. I see, sir, you are liberal in offers;
You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks,
You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.
Bass. Good sir, this ring was given me by my wife:
And, when she put it on, she made me vow,
That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it.
Por. That 'scuse serves many men to save their
gifts;

An if your wife be not a mad woman,

And know how well I have deserved this ring,
She would not hold out enemy for ever,
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
[Exeunt PouTIA and NERISSA.
Ant. My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring;
Let his deservings, and my love withal,
Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.
Bass. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him,
Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou canst,
Unto Antonio's house:-away, make haste.
[Exit GRATIANO.
Come, you and I will thither presently;
And in the morning early will we both

Fly toward Belnout: Come, Antonio. [Exeunt. SCENE II-A Street.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.

Por. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him this deed,

And let him sign it: we'll away to-night,
And be a day before our husbands home:
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.
Enter GRATIANO,

Gra Fair sir, you are well overtaken :
My lord Bassanio, upon more advice,
Hath sent you here this ring; and doth entreat
Your company at dinner.
That cannot be:

I

Por.

This ring I do accept most thankfully,
And so, I pray you, tell him: Furthermore,
pray you show my youth old Shylock's house.
Gra. That will I do.
Ner.
Sir, I would speak with you:-
I'll see if I can get my husband's ring, To PORTIA.
Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.

Por. Thou may'st, I warrant: We shall have old swearing,

That they did give the rings away to men; But we'll outface them, and outswear them too. Away, make haste thou know'st where I will tarry. Ner. Come, good sir, will you show me to this house? [Exeunt.

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

In such a night,
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea-banks, and wav'd her love
To come again to Carthage.
Jes.

In such a night,
Medea gathered the enchanted herbs
That did renew old son.

Lor.

In such a night,

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew;
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.

Jes.

And in such a night,
Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well;
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a truc one.
Lor.

And in such a night,
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgive it her.
Jes. I would out-night you, did no body come:
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter STEPHANO.

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, where she kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours. Lor.

Who comes with her? Steph. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid. I pray you, is my master yet return'd? Lor. He is not, nor we have not heard from himBut go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, Ard ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

Enter LAUNCELOT

Laun. Sola, sola, wo, ha, ho, sola, sola!
Lor. Who calls!

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.-
Exit STEPHANO.

How sweet the moon-light sleeps upon this bank?
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: Look, how the floor of heaven

Is thick inlaid with patines 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-ey'd cherubims:
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.
[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 purchance 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,
2 Reflection.

Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
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 fair 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;
Methinks, it sounds much sweeter than by day.
Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.
Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark,
When neither is attended; and, I think,
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought

No better a musician than the wren.
How many things by season season'd are
To their right praise and true perfection!-
Peace, hoa! the moon sleeps with Endymion,
And would not be awak'd!

Lor.

[Music ceases. That is the voice,

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.
Por. He knows me as the blind man knows the
cuckoo,
By the bad voice.
Lor.

Dear lady, welcome home.

Por. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare,

Which speed we hope, the better for our words: Are they return'd?

Lor. Madam they are not yet;

But there is come a messenger before,
To signify their coming.
Por.

Go in, Nerissa,

Give order to my servants that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence;
Nor you Lorenzo;-Jessica nor you.

[A tuckets sounds.
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 day-light sick,
It looks a little paler; 'tis a day,
Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their

Followers.

This is the man, this is Antonio.

To whom I am so infinitely bound.

You should have been respective, and have kept it.
Give it a judge's clerk !—but well I know,
The clerk will ne'er wear hair on his face, that had it.
Gra. He will, and if he live to be a man.
Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man.

Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,-
A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy,
No higher than myself, the judge's clerk;
A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee:
I could not for my heart deny it him.

Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, To part so slightly with your wife's first gift; A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger, And riveted so with faith upon your flesh. I gave my love a ring, and made him swear Never to part with it; and here he stands; I dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it, Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief; And 'twere to me, I should be mad at it. Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, And swear I lost the ring defending it. [Aside. Gra. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away Unto the judge that begg'd it, and, indeed, Deserv'd it too; and then the boy his clerk, That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine: And neither man, nor master, would take aught But the two rings. What ring gave you, my lord? Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me. Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault,

Por.

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honor to contain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring.
What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd, to have defended it
With any terms of zeal wanted the modesty
To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe;
I'll die for t, but some woman had the ring.

Buss. No, by mine honor, madam, by my soul,
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,
Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,
And begged the ring: the which I did deny him,
And sutler'd him to go displeas'd away:
Even he that had held up the very life
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady?
I was enforced to send it after him;

I was beset with shame and courtesy ;
My honor would not let ingratitude

So much besmear it: Pardon me, good lady;

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 seen 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 wear gilt 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 your hour of death; And that it should lie with you in your grave: Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, A flourish on a trumpet. Verbal, complimentary form.

4

Had you been there, I think, you would have begg'd The ring of me to give the worthy doctor.

Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my house: Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, And that which you did swear to keep for me, I will become as liberal as you: I'll not deny him any thing I have, No, not my body, nor my husband's bed: Know him I shall, I am well sure of it: Lie not a night from home; watch me, like Argus. Now, by mine honor, which is yet my own, If you do not, if I be left alone, I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd, How you do leave me to mine own protection. Grd. Well, do you so: let not me take him then; For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen.

Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwithstanding.

Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong; • Regardful.

Bass.

Nay, but hear me : Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear, I never more will break an oath with thee. Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth: Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, To PORTIA. Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again, My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord Will never more break faith advisedly. Por. Then you shall be his surety: Give him this; And bid him keep it better than the other.

Ant. Here, lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor! Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; For by this ring the doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserved it? Por. Speak not so grossly.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure; It comes from Padua, from Bellario: There you shall find that Portia was the doctor; Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you, And but even now return'd; I have not yet Enter'd my house.-Antonio, you are welcome; And I have better news in store for you, • Advantage.

Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you not? Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold?

Ner. Ay; but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man.

Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow;
When I am absent, then lie with my wife.
Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life, and
living:

For hear I read for certain that my ships
Are safely come to road.

Por.

How now, Lorenzo?
My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.
Ner. Ay and I'll give them him without a fee.-
There do I give to you and Jessica,

From the rich Jew a special deed of gift,
After his death, of all he dies possess d of.

Lor. Fair ladies, you drop inanna in the way
Of starved people.
It is almost morning.

Por.

And yet, I am sure, you are not satisfied
Of these events at full: Let us go in;
And charge us there upon inter gatories,
And we will answer all things faithfully.

Gra. Let it be so: The first inter gatory,
That my Nerissa shall be sworn on, is,
Whether till the next night she had rather stay;
Or go to bed now, being two hours to-day:
But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
That I were couching with the doctor's clerk.
Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing

So sore, as keening safe Nerissa's ring. [Exeunt.