Sola. Believe me, Sir, had I such venture forth,

The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grass, 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 sea.
I should not see the fandy hour-glass run,
But I thould think of shallows and of flats;
And fee my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand,
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs,
To kifs her burial. Should I go to church,
And fee the holy edifice of stone,
And not bethink me strait of dang'rous rocks?
Which, touching but my gentle vessel'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 shall I lack the thought,
That such 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 eftate Upon the fortune of this present 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 say, you're fad, Because you are not merry; and 'twere as eafy

And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper;
And others of such vinegar-aspect,
That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile,
Though Neftor swear, the jest be laughable.

Enter Bassanio, 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 staid '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 business calls on you,
And you embrace th' occafion to depart.

Sal. Good morrow, my good lords.

Baf. 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 Bassanio, fince you've found Anthonio,

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 Anthonio;
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 stage, 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, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandfire cut in Alabaster?

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, whose visages

Do

Do cream and mantle like a standing pond;
And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be drest in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say, 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 fure,
If they should speak, would almost damn those 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, goed 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 same dumb wise 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 speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice: his reasons are as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff; you shall

(1) - would almost damn those Ears,] Several Old Editions have it, dam, damme, and daunt. Some more corre Copies, daren. The Author's Meaning is this; That fome People are thought wife, whilst they keep Silence; who, when they open their mouths, are such stupid Praters, that their Hearers cannot help calling them Fools, and so incur the Judgment denounc'd in the Gospel. The Allusion is to St. Matthew, Chap. v. ver. 22. And whosever shall say to his Brether, Raca, shall be in danger of the Council: but whosoever shall fay, thou Fool, shall be in danger of Hell-fire,

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

Anth. Well; tell me now, what lady is the same,
To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage,
That you to day promis'd to tell me of ?
Baff. 'Tis not unknown to you, Anthonio,
How much I have disabled mine estate,
By shewing something a more swelling port,
Than my faint means would grant continuance;
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
From such a noble rate; but my chief care
Is to come fairly off from the great debts,
Wherein my time, something 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 stand, as you yourself still do,
Within the eye of honour; be assur'd,
My purse, my person, my extreamest means
Lye all unlock'd to your occafions.

Baf. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
I shot 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 lost; but if you please
To shoot another arrow that self 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 rest debtor for the firft.

Anth. You know me well; and herein spend but time,

To wind about my love with circumstance;
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 say to me, what I should do,
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak.

Baff. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And the is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wond'rous virtues; sometime, from her eyes (2)
I did receive fair speechless messages;
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 coaft
Renowned suitors; and her funny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her feat of Belmont, Colchos' strond;
And many Jafons come in quest of her.
O my Anthonio, had I but the means
To hold a rival place with one of them,
I have a mind presages me such thrift,
That I should questionless be fortunate.

Anth. Thou know'st, that all my fortunes are at sea, Nor have I mony, nor commodity To raise a present sum; 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 question make, 'To have it of my trust, or for my fake.

[Exeunt.

(2) - sometimes from her Eyes.] So all the Editions; but it certainly ought to be, sometime, (which differs much more in Signification, than seems at first View:) i. e. former ly, some time ago, at a certain time: and it appears by the fubfequent Scene, that Bassanio was at Belmont with the Marquis de Mountserrat, and faw Portia in her Father's life-time. And our Author, in several other Places, uses the Word in such Acceptation,

SCENE