His borrow'd purfe. 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-houfe, defired us to make a ftand.

Sal. His hour is almoft paft.

under which Lorenzo

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

Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pigeons 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 horfe, 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 chafed than enjoy'd.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,

The fkarfed bark puts from her native bay,

(7) O, ten times fafter Verus' Pigeons fly.] This is a very odd Image, of Venus's Pigeons flying to feal the Bonds of Love. The Senfe is obvious, and we know the Dignity due to Venus's Pigeons. There was certainly a Joke intended here, which the Ignorance, or Boldness, of the firft Tranfcribers have murdered: I doubt not, but Shakespeare 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

Mr. Warburton.

Hugg'd

Hugg'd and embraced by the ftrumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth the 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 pleafe 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 ♪

Jefica above, in boy's cloaths.

Jef. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll 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 cafket, 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 themfelves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himfelf 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 fhames? They in themfelves, good footh, are too, too, light. Why, 'tis an office of difcovery, 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 clofe night doth play the run away,

And we are ftaid for at Bafanio's feast.

Jef. I will make faft the doors, and gild myself

With fome more ducats, and be with you ftrait.

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

Enter Jeffica, to them.

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

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 change to Belmont.

[Exit.

[Exeunt

Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains. O, draw afide the curtains, and discover

Por-G The dev'ral cafkets to this noble Prince.

Now make your choice. [Three cafkets are difcover'd.
Mor. The firft of gold, which this infcription bears,
Who chufeth me, shall gain what many men defire.
The fecond filver, which this promife carries,

Who chufeth me, fall get as much as he deferves.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all be bath.
How fhall I know, if I do chuse 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, must give and hazard all he hath.
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 stoops not to fhows of dross;
I'll then not give, nor hazard aught for lead.
What fays the filver with her virgin hue?
Who chufeth me, shall get as much as he deferves.
As much as he deferves? 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 deferving,
Were but a weak difabling of myself.
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 deferve.
What if I ftray'd no farther, but chofe 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 kiss this fhrine, this mortal breathing faint.
Th' Hyrcanian deferts, and the vallie 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 bafe a thought: it were too grofs
To rib her fearcloth in the obfcure grave.
Or fhall I think, in filver she'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

Lies 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 lie there,

Then I am yours.

[Unlocking the gold casket. Mor. O hell! what have we here? a carrion death, Within whose empty eye there is a fcrowl:

I'll read the writing.

All that glifters is not gold,

Often have you heard that told;
Many a man his life bath 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 anfwer had not been inferol'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 fo.

Sal.

SCENE changes to Venice

Enter Solarino and Salanio.

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

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

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

Sola. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the Duke, Who went with him to fearch Baffanio's thip.

Sal.