SCENE IX. Belmont. An Apartment in PORTIA's House. Enter NERISSA, with a Servitor. Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee; draw the curtain straight. The Prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath, Enter the PRINCE of Arragon, PORTIA, and their Trains. Flourish of Cornets. Por. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble Prince: If you choose that wherein I am contain❜d, Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd ; But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, You must be gone from hence immediately. Arragon. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things: First, never to unfold to any one Which casket 'twas I chose: next, if I fail Of the right casket, never in my life To woo a maid in way of marriage: Lastly, if I do fail in fortune of my choice, Por. To these injunctions every one doth swear, That comes to hazard for my worthless self. Ar. And so have I address'd me. Fortune now To my heart's hope! Gold, silver, and base lead. Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath : You shall look fairer, ere I give, or hazard. What says the golden chest? ha! let me see : — Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire. What many men desire: that many may be meant By the fool multitude, that choose by show, Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach; Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume O! that estates, degrees, and offices, Were not deriv'd corruptly! and that clear honour Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there. Ar. What's here? the portrait of a blinking idiot, Presenting me a schedule? I will read it. How much unlike art thou to Portia ! Is that my prize? are my deserts no better? Por. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices, And of opposed natures. Ar. Por. What is here? "The fire seven times tried this : Still more fool I shall appear By the time I linger here: With one fool's head I came to woo ; But I go away with two. Sweet, adieu. I'll keep my oath, Patiently to bear my wroth. [Exeunt ARRAGON and Train. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. O, these deliberate fools, when they do choose, Ner. Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. Por. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa. Enter a Messenger. Mess. Where is my lady? Por. Here; what would my lord? Mess. Madam, there is alighted at your gate A young Venetian, one that comes before To signify th' approaching of his lord, From whom he bringeth sensible re-greets; L2 To wit, (besides commends, and courteous breath,) A day in April never came so sweet, Por. No more, I pray thee: I am half afeard Quick Cupid's post, that comes so mannerly. [Exeunt. ACT III. SCENE I. Venice. A Street. Enter SALANIO and SALARINO. SALANIO. OW, what news on the Rialto? N° NOW; Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wrack'd on the narrow seas; the Goodwins, I think they call the place a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip, report, be an honest woman of her word. Salan. I would she were as lying a gossip in that, as ever knapp'd ginger, or made her neighbours believe she wept for the death of a third husband. But it is true, without any slips of prolixity, or crossing the plain high-way of talk, that the good Antonio, the honest Antonio, O, that I had a title good enough to keep his name company! Salar. Come, the full stop. Salan. Ha! what say'st thou? is, he hath lost a ship. - Why, the end Salar. I would it might prove the end of his losses. Salan. Let me say Amen betimes, lest the Devil cross my prayer; for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. Enter SHYLOCK. How now, Shylock? what news among the merchants? Shy. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my daughter's flight. Salar. That's certain: I, for my part, knew the tailor that made the wings she flew withal. Salan. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledg'd; and then, it is the complexion of them all to leave the dam. Shy. She is damn'd for it. Salar. That's certain, if the 'Devil may be her judge. Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel! Salan. Out upon it, old carrion! rebels it at these years? Shy. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. Salar. There is more difference between thy flesh and hers, than between jet and ivory; more between your bloods, than there is between red wine and Rhenish. But tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had any loss at sea or no? Shy. There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on |