Of my dear friend. What fhould I fay, fweet lady? I was befet with shame and courtefie; So much befmear it. Pardon me, good lady, And by these bleffed candles of the night, Had you been there, I think, you would have begg'd The ring of me, to give the worthy Doctor. Por. Let not that Doctor e'er come near my house, Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, And that which you did fwear to keep for me: I'll not deny him any thing I have, No, not my body, nor my husband's bed; Lye not a night from home; watch me, like Argus: Now, by mine honour, which is yet my own, Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd, Gra. Well, do you fo; let me not take him then; For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen. Ant. I am th' unhappy fubject of these quarrels. Baff. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong. I swear to thee, ev'n by thine own fair eyes, Por. Mark you but that! In both mine eyes he doubly fees himself; Baff. Nay, but hear me : Pardon this fault, and by my foul I fwear, Ant. I once did lend my body for his weal; Which but for him, that had your husband's ring, [To Portia. Had Had quite mifcarry'd. I dare be bound again, Por. Then you fhall be his furety; give him this, Ant. Here, lord Bafanio, twear to keep this ringBaff. By heav'n, it is the fame I gave the Doctor. Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Baffanio; For by this ring the Doctor lay with me. Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano, Gra. Why, this is like the mending of high-ways It comes from Padua, from Bellario: There you fhall find that Portia was the Doctor; Ant. I am dumb. Baff. Were you the Doctor, and I knew you not? Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me cuckold? Ner. Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man. Baff. Sweet Doctor, you fhall be my bedfellow ; When I am absent, then lye with my wife. Ant. Sweet lady, you have giv'n me life and living; For here I read for certain, that my ships Are fafely come to road. Por. How now, Lorenzo ? My My clerk hath fome good comforts too for you. From the rich Jew, a fpecial Deed of Gift, Lor. Fair ladies, you drop Manna in the way Por. It is almost morning, And yet, I'm fure, you are not fatisfy'd Gra. Let it be fo: the first interr'gatory, [Exeunt omnes. |