His borrow'd purse.

Well, Jeffica, go in ; Perhaps, I will return immediately;

Do, as I bid you..

Shut the doors after you; faft bind, faft find;
A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind.

[Exit:

Jef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft,

I have a father, you a daughter, loft.

[Exit:

SCENE, the STREET.

Enter Gratiano and Salanio in masquerade.

Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo` defired us to make a stand.

Sal. His hour is almost past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells this hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pidgeons fly (7)
To feal love's bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds. Who rifeth from a feaft,
With that keen appetite that he fits down?
Where is the horse, that doth untread again
His tedious measures with th' unbated fire,
That he did pace them firft? all things that are,
Are with more fpirit chased than enjoy'd,
How like a younker, or a prodigal,
The skarfed bark puts from her native bay,

(7) 0, ten times fafter Venus' Pidgeons fly.] This is a very odd Image, of Venus's Pidgeons flying to feal the Bonds of Love. The Senfe is obvious, and We know the Dignity due to Venus's Pidgeons. There was certainly a Joke intended here, which the Ignorance, or Boldness, of the first Transcribers have murder'd: I doubt not, but Shakespear wrote the Line thus:

O, ten times fafter Venus' Widgeons fly
To feal, &c.

For Widgeon is not only the filly Bird fo call'd, but fignifies likewife, metaphorically, a filly Fellow, as Goofe, or Gudgeon, does now.

Mr. Warburton.
Hugg'd

Hugg'd and embraced by the ftrumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth fhe return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the ftrumpet wind!

Enter Lorenzo.

Sal. 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 fhall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then; come, approach;
Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within ?
Jeftica above, in boy's cloaths.

Jef. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I fwear, that I do know your tongue.
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jef. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed;
For who love I fo much? and now who knows,
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness, that thou

art.

Jef. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains.
I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me;
For I am much afham'd of my exchange;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To fee me thus transformed to a boy,

Lor. Defcend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jef What must I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, goodfooth, are too, too, light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,

And I fhould be obfcur'd.

Lor. So are you, sweet,

Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy.

But come at once

For the close night doth play the run-away,

And we are ftaid for at Baffanio's feast.

Jef. I will make faft the doors, and gild my felf

With fome more ducats, and be with you strait.

[Exit from above. Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no few. Lor. Bethrew me, but I love her heartily; For the is wife, if I can judge of her; And fair fhe is, if that mine eyes be true; And true she is as the hath prov'd her felf; And therefore like her felf, wife, fair, and true, Shall he be placed in my conftant foul.

Enter Jeffica, to them."

What, art thou come ? on, gentlemen, away;
Our mafquing mates by this time for us stay.

Enter Anthonio.

Anth. Who's there?

Gra. Signior Anthonio,

Anth. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the reft ?
'Tis nine o' clock, our friends all stay for you;
No mafque to night; the wind is come about,
Baffanio prefently will go aboard;

I have fent twenty out to feek for you.
Gra. I'm glad on't; I defire no more delight
Than to be under fail, and gone to night.

SCENE changes to Belmont.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains.

Por.

and the curtains, and difcover

The fev'ral caskets to this noble Prince. Now make your choice. [Three caskets are discover'd. Mor. The firft of gold, which this infcription bears,

Who chufeth me, fhall gain what many men defire.

The fecond filver, which this promise carries,
Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he deferves.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
Who chufeth me, muft give and hazard all he bath.
How fhall I know, if I do chufe the right?

Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; If you chufe that, then I am yours withal.

Mor.

Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me fee,
I will furvey th' infcriptions back again;
What fays this leaden casket?

Who chufeth me, muft give and hazard all be bath.
Muft 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 ftoops not to fhows of drofs;
I'll then not give, nor hazard, aught for lead.
What fays the filver, with her virgin hue?
Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as he deferves.
As much as he deserves? pause there, Morochius ;
And weigh thy value with an even hand.
If thou be'ft rated by thy eftimation,
Thou doft deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend fo far as to the lady;
And yet to be afraid of my deserving,
Were but a weak difabling of my self.
As much as I deferve

why, that's the lady:

I do in birth deferve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding:
But more than thefe, in love I do deserve.
What if I ftray'd no farther, but chose here ?
Let's fee once more this faying grav'd in gold.
Who chufeth me, shall gain what many men defire.
Why, that's the lady; all the world defires her;
From the four corners of the earth they come
To kifs this fhrine, this mortal breathing faint.
Th' Hyrcanian deferts, and the vaftie wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as thorough-fares now,
For Princes to come view fair Portia.
The wat'ry kingdom, whofe ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To ftop the foreign fpirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to fee fair Portia.

One of these three contains her heav'nly picture.
Is't like, that lead contains her? 'twere damnation,
To think fo base a thought: it were too grofs
To rib her fearcloth in the obfcure grave.
Or fhall I think, in filver fhe's immur'd,

Being ten times undervalu'd to try'd gold ?
O finful thought, never fo rich a gem

Was fet in worse than gold! they have in England
A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that's infculpt upon :
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lyes all within. Deliver me the key;
Here do I chufe, and thrive I as I may !

Por. There take it, Prince, and if my form lye

there,

Then I am yours.

[Unlocking the gold casket.

Mor. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death, Within whofe empty eye there is a scrowl:

I'll read the writing.

All that glifters is not gold,

Often barve you heard that told;
Many a man his life hath fold,
But my outfide to behold.
Gilded wood may worms infold:
Had you been as wife as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been infcrol'd;
Fare you well, your fuit is cold.

Mor. Cold, indeed, and labour loft:
Then farewel, heat; and welcome, frost:
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus lofers part.
Por. A gentle riddance: draw the curtains; go
Let all of his complexion chufe me so.

Sal.

SCENE changes to Venice.

Enter Solarino and Salanio.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

HY, man, I faw Baffanio under fail;
With him is Gratiano gone along ;

WH

And in their fhip, I'm fure, Lorenzo is not.

Sola. The villain Few with outcries rais'd the Duke, Who went with him to fearch Bassanio's fhip.

Sal.