« VorigeDoorgaan »
Belmont. A Room in Portia's House.
Flourish of Cornets. Enter PortiA, with the Prince
of Morocco, and both their Trains. Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince:Now make your choice. Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription
bears; Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. The second, silver, which this promise carries;Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt;-Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. How shall I know if I do choose the right? Por. The one of them contains my picture,
prince; If you choose that, then I am yours withal.
Mor. Some god direct my judginent! Let me see, I will survey the inscriptions back again: What says this leaden casket? Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. Must give-For what? for lead? hazard for lead? This casket threatens: Men, that hazard all, Do it in hope of fair advantages: A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross; I'll then nor give, nor hazard, aught for lead. What says the silver, with her virgin hue? Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves. As much as he deserves - Pause there, Morocco, And weigh thy value with an even hand: If thou be'st rated by thy estimation, Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
$ To rib---] i. e. inclose, as the ribs inclose the viscera.
insculp'd upon;] To insculp is to engrave. The meaning is, that the figure of the angel is raised or embossed on the coin not engraved on it.
Por. There, take it, prince, and if my form lie
there, Then I am yours.
[He unlocks the golden casket. Mor. O hell! what have we here? A carrion death, within whose empty eye There is a written scroll? I'll read the writing.
All that glisters is not gold,
been as wise as bold,
Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewell, heat; and, welcome, frost. Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. [Exit. Por. A gentle riddance:-Draw the curtains,
go; Let all of his complexion choose me so. [Exeunt.
Venice. A Street.
Enter SALARINO and SALANIO. Salar. Why man, I saw Bassanio under sail; · With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship, I am sure, Lorenzo is not. Salan. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the
duke; Who went with him to search Bassanio's ship.
Salar. He came too late, the ship was under sail : But there the duke was given to understand, That in a gondola were seen together Lorenzo and his ainorous Jessica: Besides, Antonio certify’d the duke, They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
Salan. I never heard a passion so confusid, So strange, outrageous, and so variable, As the dog Jew did utter in the streets: My daughter != my ducats ! — my daughter ! Fled with a Christian?-O my christian ducats !-
!! Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter! A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, Of double ducats, stoln from me by my daughter ! And jewels; two stones, two rich and precious stones, Stoln by my daughter !~ Justice! find the girl! She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats!
Salar. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying,—his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
Salan. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, Or he shall pay for this. Salar.
Marry, well remember'd: I reason'd with a Frenchman yesterday ;' Who told me,—in the narrow seas, that part The French and English, there miscarried A vessel of our country, richly fraught: I thought upon Antonio, when he told me; And wish'd in silence, that it were not his. Salan. You were best to tell Antonio what you
hear; Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
Salar. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. I saw Bassanio and Antonio part: Bassanio told him, he would make some speed Of his return; he answer'd-Do not so,
· I reason'd with a Frenchman yesterday ;] i. e. I conversed.
Slubber not? business for my sake, Bassanio,
Salan. I think, he only loves the world for him.
Do we so,
Belmont. A Room in Portia's House,
Enter Nerissa, with a Servant.
2 Slubber not-] To slubber is to do any thing carelessly, imperfectly. 3 And even there, his eye being big uith tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, &c.] So curious an observer of nature was our author, and so minutely had lie traced the operation of the passions, that many passages of his works might furnish hints to painters. It is indeed surprizing that they do not study his plays with this view. In the passage before us, we have the outline of a beautiful picture. MALONE.
embraced heaviness-] The heaviness which he indulges, and is fond of.