Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Ev'n in the force and road of cafualty.
I will not chufe what many men defire,
Because I will not jump with common fpirits,
And rank me with the barb'rous multitudes.
Why then to thee, thou filver treasure-house:
Tell me once more, what title thou doft bear.
Who chufeth me, shall get as much as he deferves;
And well faid too, for who fhall go about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the ftamp of merit? let none prefume
To wear an undeserved dignity:

O that eftates, degrees, and offices,

Were not deriv'd corruptly, that clear honour
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
How many then should cover, that stand bare?
How many be commanded, that command?
How much low peafantry would then be gleaned
From the true feed of honour? how much honour (13}
Pickt from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be new varnish'd? well, but to my choice:
Who chufeth me, fhall get as much as be deferves.
I will affume defert; give me a key for this,
And inftantly unlock my fortunes here.

Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there: [Unlocking the filver cafket.

(13)

how much bonour

Pick'd from the Chaff and ruin of the times,

To be new varnifh'd.] Mr. Warburton very juftly obferv'd to me upon the confufion and disagreement of the Metaphors here; and is of opinion, that Shakespeare might have wrote;

To be new vanned.

i. e. winnow'd, purged: from the French word, vanner; Which is deriv'd from the Latin, Vannus, ventilabrum, the Fann ufed for winnowing the chaff from the corn. This alteration, as he obferves, reftores the metaphor to its integrity: and our poet frequently uses the fame thought. So, in the 2d part of Henry IV.

We fhall be winnow'd with fo rough a wind, That ev'n our corn fhall feem as light as chaff. And, again, in K. Henry V.

Such, and fo finely boulted did't thou seem,

for boulted fignifies fifted, refin'd. The correction is truly ingenious, and probable: But as Shakespeare is so loose and licentious in the blending of different metaphors, I have not ventur'd to disturb the text.

F 2

Ar.

Ar. What's here! the portrait of a blinking idiot,
Presenting me à schedule? I will read it :
How much unlike art thou to Portia?

How much unlike my hopes and my defervings?
Who chufes me, shall have as much as he deferves.
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize? are my deferts no better?
Por. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices,
And of oppofed natures.

Ar. What is here?

The fire fev'n times tried this;

Sev'n times tried that judgment is,
That did never chuse amifs.

Some there be, that fhadows kiss;
Such have but a fhadow's blifs:
There be fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd o'er, and fo was this:
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your

head :

So be gone, Sir, you are sped.

Ar. Still more fool I fhall 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.

Por. Thus hath the candle fing'd the moth :
O thefe deliberate fools! when they do chufe,
They have the wifdom by their wit to lofe.
Ner. The ancient faying is no herefy,
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Neriffa.

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Where is my lady?

Por. Here, what would my lord?

Serv. Madam, there is alighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before
To fignify th' approaching of his lord,

[Exit.

From

From whom he bringeth fenfible regreets ;
To wit, befides commends and courteous breath,
Gifts of rich value; yet, I have not seen
So likely an ambassador of love.

A day in April never came fo fweet,
To show how coftly fummer was at hand,
As this fore-fpurrer comes before his lord.

Por. No more, I pray thee; I am half afraid,
Thou'lt fay anon, he is fome kin to thee;
Thou spend'ft fuch high-day wit in praifing him:
Come, come, Neriffa, for I long to fee
Quick Cupid's poft, that comes fo mannerly.
Ner. Baffanio, lord Love, if thy will it be! (14)

}

[Exeunt.

A C T III.

SCENE,

a Street in Venice.

Enter Salanio and Solarino.

SOLARINO.

N

WOW, what news on the Ryalto?

Sal. Why yet it lives there uncheck'd, that Anthonio hath a fhip of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow feas; the Godwins, I think, they call the place; à very dangerous flat and fatal, where the carcafes of many a tall ship lye bury'd, as they fay, if my goffip Report be an honeft woman of her word.

Sola. I would fhe were as lying a goffip in that, as ever knapt ginger; or made her neighbours believe, the wept for the death of a third hufband. But it is true,

(14) Baffanio Lord, love, if] Mr. Pope, and all the preceding editions have follow'd this pointing; as imagining, I fuppofe, that Baffanio lord-means, Lord Bassanio; but Lord must be coupled to Love: as if fhe had faid, imperial love, if it be thy will, let it be Bassanie ⚫ whom this messenger fore-runs.

<

F 3

without

without any flips of prolixity, or croffing the plain high-way of talk, that the good Anthonio, the honest Anthonio O that I had a title good enough to

keep his name company.

Sal. Come, the full stop.

Sola. Ha, what fay' ft thou? why the end is, he hath loft a ship.

Sal. I would, it might prove the end of his loffes.

Sola. Let me fay Amen betimes, left the devil cross thy prayer, (15) for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. How now, Shylock, what news among the mes chants ?

Enter Shylock.

Shy. You knew (none fo well, none fo well as you} of my daughter's flight.

Sal. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the taylor that made the wings fhe flew withal.

Sola. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledg'd, and then it is the complection of them all to leave the dam.

Sky. She is damn'd for it.

Sal. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge. Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel!

Sola. Out upon it, old carrion, rebels it at thefe years? Shy. I fay, my daughter is my flesh and blood.

Sal. 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 Anthonio have had any lofs at fea or no?

Shy. There I have another bad match; a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dares fcarce fhew his head on the Ryalto; a beggar, that us'd to come fo fmug upon the mart! let him look on his bond; he was wont to call me ufurer; let him look to his bond; he was wont to lend money for a christian courtefy; let him look to his bond.

(15). -left the devil crofs my prayer,] But the prayer was Salanio's. The other only, as clerk, fays Amen to it. We muft therefore read Mr. Warburton.

-thy prayer.

Sal. Why, I am fure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not take his flesh what's that good for?

Shy. To bait fish withal. If it will feed nothing elfe, it will feed my revenge; he hath difgrac'd me, and hinder'd me half a million, laught at my loffes, mock'd at my gains, fcorn'd my nation, thwarted my bargains, cool'd my friends, heated mine enemies; and what's his reafon? I am a few. Hath not a few eyes? hath not a few hands, organs, dimenfions, fenfes, affections, paffions? fed with the fame food, hurt with the fame weapons, fubject to the fame difeafes, heal'd by the fame means, warm'd and cool'd by the faine winter and fummer, as a chriftian is if you prick us, do we not bleed? if y you tickle us, do we not laugh? if you poifon us, do we not die? and if you wrong us, shall we if we are like you in the reft, we will refemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a chriftian, what is his humility? Revenge. If a chriftian wrong a Jew, what fhould his fufferance be by chriftian example ? why Revenge. The villany, you teach me, I will execute; and it shall go hard, but I will better the inftruction.

not revenge

Enter a Servant from Anthonio.

Ser. Gentlemen, my mafter Anthonio is at his house, and defires to fpeak with you both.

Sal. We have been up and down to seek him.

Enter Tubal.

Sola. Here comes another of the tribe; a third cannot be match'd, unlefs the devil himfelf turn Jew.

[Exeunt Sala. und Solar.

Shy. How now, Tubal, what news from Genoua ? hast thou found my daughter? →Tub. I often came where I did hear of her, but cannot find her.

Shy. Why there, there, there, there! a diamond gone, coft me two thousand ducats in Frankfort! the curfe never fell upon our nation 'till now, I never felt it 'till now; two thousand ducats in that, and other precious, precious jewels! I would, my daughter were dead at