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For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.-
more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
Ant. Farewel: I'll grow a talker for this gear.
mendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
[E.xeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo. Ant. Is that any thing now?
Bass. 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.
Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is this same
Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
my faint means would grant continuance:
Hath left me gaged: To you, Antonio,
Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
shaft, I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by advent'ring both, I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof, Because what follows is
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: Then do but say to me what I should do, That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak.
Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left, And she is fair, and, fairer than that word, Of wond'rous virtues; sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages: Her name is Portia; nothing undervalued To Cato's daughter, Brutus’ Portia. Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth; For the four winds blow in from every coast Renowned suitors: and her sunny locks Hang on her temples like a golden fleece; Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' strand, And many Jasons come in quest of her. O my Antonio, had I but the means To hold a rival place with one of them, I have a mind presages me such thrift, That I should questionless be fortunate. Ant. Thou know'st, that all my fortunes are at
sea; Nor have I money, nor commodity To raise a present sum: therefore go forth, Try what my credit can in Venice do; That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost, To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia. Go, presently inquire, and so will I, Where money is; and I no question make, To have it of my trust, or for my sake. [Exeunt. SCENE II.
A ROOM IN PORTIA'S HOUSE,
Enter Portia and Nerissa. Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world.
Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: And, yet, for aught I see, they are as sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing: It is no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.
Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced.
Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages, princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done, than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree: such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband:-0 me, the word choose! I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the will of a live ing daughter curb’d by the will of a dead father:Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, por refuse none?
Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men, at their death, have good inspirations; therefore, the lottery, that he hath devised in these three chests, of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who chooses his meaning, chooses you,) will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you
shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?
Por, I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them; and, according to my description, level at my affection.
Ner. First there is the Neapolitan prince.
Por. Ay, that's a colt, indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts, that he can shoe him himself: I am much afraid, my lady his mother played false with a smith.
Ner. Then, is there the county Palatine.
Por. He doth nothing but frown; as who should say, An if you will not have me, choose :- he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear, he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, than to either of these. God defend me from these two!
Ner. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon ?
Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker; But, he! why, he hath a horse better than