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MERCHANT of VENICE.
Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad ;
SALAR. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
petty traffickers, That curt'sy to them, do them reverence, As they fly by them with their woven wings.
Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part my
affections would Be with my hopes abroad.
abroad. I should be still Plucking the grass, to know where fits the wind; Peering in maps, for ports, and piers, and roads;
And every object, that might make me fear
SALAR. My wind, cooling my broth,
Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it,
SALAN. Why then you are in love,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time :
, Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
Enter BASSÀNIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsGratiano, and Lorenzo : Fare you well ;
[man, We leave you now with better company.
Salar. I would have staid till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me.
Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
[Exeunt SalariNO and SALANIO. Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, We two will leave you : but, at dinner-time, I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.
Bass. I will not fail you.
Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio;
Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;
Gra. Let me play the Fool:
And let my liver rather heat with wine, ,
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, Antonio,I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ;There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond; And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress’d 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 Antonio, I do know of these, That therefore only are reputed wise, For saying nothing'; who, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, 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, good 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 fame dumb wise men, For Gratiano never lets me speak.
Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
Ant. Farewell : I'll grow a talker for this gear.
Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
[Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO.
Ant. Is that any thing now?
Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is this same
you to-day promis'd to tell me of?
faint means would grant continuance :
Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it ;
of honour, be assur'd,
Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft,
with more advised watch,