Sola. Believe me, Sir, had I fuch venture forth,
The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I fhould be ftill
Plucking the grafs, to know where fits the wind;
Peering in maps for ports, and peers, and roads;
And every object, that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me fad.

Sal. My wind, cooling my broth, Would blow me to an ague, when I thought What harm a wind too great might do at fea. I should not fee the fandy hour-glass run, But I thould think of fhallows and of flats; And fee my wealthy Andrew dock'd in fand, Vailing her high top lower than her ribs, To kifs her burial. Should I go to church, And fee the holy edifice of ftone, And not bethink me strait of dang'rous rocks? Which, touching but my gentle veffel's fide, Would scatter all the spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks; And in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought To think on this, and fhall I lack the thought, That fuch a thing, bechanc'd, would make me fad? But tell not me; I know, Anthonio Is fad to think upon his merchandize.

Anth. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this prefent year: Therefore, my merchandize makes me not fad. Sola. Why then you are in love.

Anth. Fie, fie! ·

Sola. Not in love neither! then let's fay, you're fad, Because you are not merry; and 'twere as eafy For you to laugh and leap, and fay, you're merry, Because you are not fad. Now by two-headed Janus, Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,

And

And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper;
And others of fuch vinegar-afpect,
That they'll not fhow their teeth in way of fmile,
Though Neftor fwear, the jest be laughable.

Enter Baffanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano.

Sal. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinfman, Gratiano and Lorenzo: fare ye well; We leave ye now with better company.

Sola. I would have ftaid 'till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard :

I take it, your own bufinefs calls on you,
And you embrace th' occafion to depart.

Sal. Good morrow, my good lords..

Baff. Good Signiors both, when shall we laugh? fay, when?

You grow exceeding strange; must it be fo?

Sal. We'll make our leifures to attend on yours. Sola. My lord Baffanio, fince you've found Anthonie, We two will leave you; but at dinner-time,

I

pray you, have in mind where we must meet. Baff. I will not fail you. [Exeunt Solar, and Sala: Gra. You look not well, Signior Abonio; You have too much refpect upon the world: They lose it, that do buy it with much care. Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.

Anth. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano, A ftage, where every man must play his part, And mine's a fad one.

Gra. Let me play the fool;

With mirth, and laughter, let old wrinkles come;
And let my liver rather heat with wine,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man, whofe blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandfire cut in Alabafter?
Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Anthonio,
(I love thee, and it is my love that speaks :)
There are a fort of men, whofe vifages

Do

Do cream and mantle like a standing pond;
And do a wilful ftillness entertain,
With purpose to be dreft in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who fhould fay, I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
O my Anthonio, I do know of those,
That therefore only are reputed wife,
For faying nothing; who, I'm very sure,
If they should fpeak, would almost damn thofe ears, (1)
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
I'll tell thee more of this another time:
But fish not with this melancholy bait,
For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.
Come, good Lorenzo; fare ye well a while;
I'll end my exhortation after dinner.

Lor. Well, we will leave you then 'till dinner-time.
I must be one of these fame dumb wife men;
For Gratiano never lets me speak.

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the found of thine own tongue.

Anth. Fare well; I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for filence is only commendable In a neats tongue dry'd, and a maid not vendible. [Exeunt Gra. and Loren.

Anth. Is that any thing now?

Baff. Gratiano fpeaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice: his reafons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall

(1) would almost damn thofe Ears,] Several Old Editions have it, dam, damme, and daunt. Some more correct Copies, damn. The Author's Meaning is this; That fome People are thought wife, whilft they keep Silence; who, when they open their mouths, are fuch ftupid Praters, that their Hearers cannot help calling them Fools, and fo incur the Judgment denounc'd in the Gospel. The Allufion is to St. Matthew, Chap. v. ver. 22. And whofever shall fay to his Brother, Raca, fhall be in danger of the Council: but whosoever shall Say, thou Fool, shall be in danger of Hell-fire.

feek

feek all day ere you find them, and when you have them, they are not worth the fearch.

Anth. Well; tell me now, what lady is the fame,
To whom you fwore a fecret pilgrimage,
That you to day promis'd to tell me of?

Baff. 'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio,
How much I have difabled mine estate,
By fhewing fomething a more fwelling port,
Than my faint means would grant continuance ;
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
From fuch a noble rate; but my chief care
Is to come fairly off from the great debts,
Wherein my time, fomething too prodigal,
Hath left me gaged to you, Anthonio,
I owe the most in mony, and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty
T'unburthen all my plots and purposes,
How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

Anth. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
And if it ftand, as you yourself still do,
Within the eye of honour; be affur'd,
My purfe, my perfon, my extreamest means
Lye all unlock'd to your occafions.

Baff. In my fchool-days, when I had lost one shaft, I fhot his fellow of the self-fame flight The felf-fame way, with more advised watch, To find the other forth; by ventring both, I oft found both. I urge this child-hood proof, Because what follows is pure innocence. I owe you much, and, like a wilful youth, That which I owe is loft; but if you please To shoot another arrow that felf way 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 reft debtor for the firft.

Anth. You know me well; and herein spend but time, To wind about my love with circumftance; And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong, In making question of my uttermoft,

Than

Than if you had made waste of all I have.
Then do but fay to me, what I should do,
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am preft unto it: therefore, speak.

Baff. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wond'rous virtues; sometime, from her eyes (2)
I did receive fair fpeechlefs meffages;
Her name is Portia, nothing undervalu'd
To Cato's daughter, Brutus Portia :
Nor is the wide world ign'rant of her worth;
For the four winds blow in from every coast
Renowned fuitors; and her funny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her feat of Belmont, Colchos' ftrond;
And many Jafons come in queft of her.
O my Anthonio, had I but the means
To hold a rival place with one of them,
I have a mind prefages me fuch thrift,
That I fhould queftionless be fortunate.

Anth. Thou know'ft, that all my fortunes are at fea Nor have I mony, nor commodity To raise a prefent fum; therefore, go forth; Try what my credit can in Venice do; That shall be rack'd even to the uttermoft, To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia : Go, presently enquire, and fo will I, Where mony is; and I no queftion make, To have it of my truft, or for my fake.

[Exeunt.

(2) fometimes from her Eyes.] So all the Editions ; but it certainly ought to be, fometime, (which differs much more in Signification, than seems at firft View :) i. e. formerly, fome time ago, at a certain time: and it appears by the fubTequent Scene, that Baffanio was at Belmont with the Marquis de Mountferrat, and faw Portia in her Father's life-time. And our Author, in several other Places, uses the Word in such Acceptation,

SCENE