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 asham'd of my exchange; But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit; 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 obscur'd. Lor. So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. But come at once; For the close night doth play the run-away, And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast. 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 Gentile1, and no Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily: For she is wise, if I can judge of her; And true she is, as she hath proved herself; Jew. 4 A jest arising from the ambiguity of Gentile, which signifies both a heathen and one well born. And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Enter JESSICA, below. What, art thou come?-On, gentlemen, away; Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. [Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO. Enter ANTONIO. Ant. Who's there? Gra. Signior Antonio? Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano! where are all the rest? "Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you:No masque 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. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. 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 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; As much as I deserve!-Why, that's the lady: One of these three contains her heavenly picture. Is't like, that lead contains her? "Twere damnation, Was set in worse than gold. They have in England Lies all within.-Deliver me the key; Por. There, take it, prince, and if my form lie there, Then I am yours. Mor. [He unlocks the golden casket. O hell! what have we here? A carrion death, within whose empty eye Often have you heard that told: Then, farewell, heat; and welcome, frost.- 1 Enclose. [Exit. 2 i. e. if compared with tried gold. So before in Act i. Sc. 1, 'Her name is Portia, nothing undervalued To Cato's daughter.' 3 Engraven. 4 i. e. the answer you have got; namely, Fare you well!' VOL. III. F Por. A gentle riddance go; Draw the curtains, Let all of his complexion choose me so. [Exeunt. SCENE VIII. 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 amorous Jessica : Besides, Antonio certify'd the duke, They were not with Bassanio in his ship. Salan. I never heard a passion so confus'd, So strange, outrageous, and so variable, As the dog Jew did utter in the streets: My daughter!-O my ducats!-O 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, stol'n from me by my daughter! And jewels; two stones, two rich and precious stones, Stol'n 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'd1 with a Frenchman yesterday; Who told me,-in the narrow seas, that part 1 Conversed. |