There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit LAUN. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jes. His words were, Farewell, mistress; nothing else. Shy. The patch1 is kind enough; but a huge feeder, Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day More than the wild cat. Drones hive not with me; His borrowed purse. Well, Jessica, go in; Do, as I bid you, Shut doors after you; fast bind, fast find; A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit. Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crossed, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit. SCENE VI. The same. Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masked. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Desired us to make stand. Salar. His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he outdwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly Gra. That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast That he did pace them first? All things that are, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 1 i. e. fool or simpleton. Hugged and embraced by the strumpet wind! Enter LORENZO. Salar. Here comes Lorenzo;-more of this hereafter. Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode. Not I, but my affairs have made you wait; When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, I'll watch as long for you then.-Approach! Here dwells my father Jew.-Ho! Who's within? Enter JESSICA above, in Boy's Clothes. Jes. Who are you? Tell me for more certainty, Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue. Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love. Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love indeed; For who love I so much? And now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou art. Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much ashamed of my exchange; But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit; For, if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy. Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too, too light. Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love; And I should be obscured. Lor. For the close night doth play the runaway, Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself With some more ducats, and be with you straight. [Exit from above. Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew. Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily. For she is wise, if I can judge of her; And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true; And true she is, as she hath proved herself; And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Shall she be placed in my constant soul. Enter JESSICA, below. What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away; [Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO. Enter ANTONIO. Ant. Who's there? Gra. Seignior Antonio? Ant. Fie, fie, Gratiano! Where are all the rest? 'Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you.No mask to-night: the wind is come about; Bassanio presently will go aboard. I have sent twenty out to seek for you. Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail and gone to-night. SCENE VII. Belmont. [Exeunt. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. 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. 1 A jest arising from the ambiguity of Gentile, which signifies both a heathen and one well born. Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears; Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince; If you choose that, then I am yours withal. Mor. Some god direct my judgment! 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. A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross; For princes to come view fair Portia. To stop the foreign spirits; but they come, One of these three contains her heavenly picture. To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave. Was set in worse than gold. They have in England Lies all within.-Deliver me the key; Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may! 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; Often have you heard that told; Cold, indeed; and labor lost. Then, farewell, heat; and welcome, frost. Portia, adieu! I have too grieved a heart To take a tedious leave; thus losers part. [Exit. 1 This is the reading of all the old copies, which Mr. Rowe altered to wood, and Dr. Johnson to tombs. VOL. II. 26 |