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Duke of Venice.
MOROCRIUS, a Moorish prince.
Prince of Arragon.
ANTHON 10, the merchant of Venice.
BASSANIO, his friend.
SOLARINO, I friends to Anthonio and Bafanio.
LORENZO, in love with Jessica.
SAYLOCK, a Jew.
TUBAL, a Jew..
LAUNCELOT, a clown, fervant to the Jew.
COBBO, father to Launcelot.
LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio.
BALTHAZAR, Z fervants to Portia,
PORTIA, an heiress.
Jessica, daughter to Shylock.
NERISSA, waiting maid to Portia.
Senators of Venice, officers, jailer, servants and other
SCENE, partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the seat
A ftreet in Venice.
Enter Anthonio, Solarino, and Salanio.
T N footh, I know not why I am so sad :
| It wearies me ; you say, it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.
SAL. Your mind is coffing on the ocean ;
There, where your argofies with portly fail,
Like Signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
Or as it were the pageants of the sea,
Do over-peer the petty traffickers,
That curtsie to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
Sola. Believe me, fir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grass to know where fits the wind ;
Peering in maps for ports, for piers, and roads.
And every object, that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me fad.
SAL. My wind, cooling my broth,
Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at sea.
I should not see the sandy hour-glass run,
But I should think of shallows and of flats;
And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand,
Vailing her high top lower than her ribs,
To kils her burial. Should I go to church,
And see the holy edifice of stone,
And not bethink me ftreight of dangorous rocks 2 .
Which, touching but my gentle vefsel's side,
Would scatter all the spices on the stream,
Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks ;
And in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought
To think on this, and shall I lack the thought,
That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me fad?
But tell not me; I know, Anthonio
Is fad to think upon his merchandize.
ANT.h. Believe me, no; I thank my fortune for it
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
Nor to one place ; nor is my whole eftate
Upon the fortune of the prefent year:
Therefore, my merchandize makes me not fada
Sola. Why then you are in love.
Anth. Fie, fie!
Sola. Not in love neither ! then let's fay, you're fad,
Because you are not merry ; and 'twere as ealy
For you to laugh and leap, and fay, you're merry,
Because you are not fad. Now by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper ;
And others of such vinegar aspect,
That they'll not shew their teeth in way of smile,
Though Nestor swear, the jest be laughable.
Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo and Gratiano.
SAL. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well;
We leave you now with better company.
SOLA. I would have staid 'till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented me.
Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
I take it, your own business calls on you,
And you embrace th’occasion to depart.
Sal. Good morrow my good lords.
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when? You grow exceeding strange; must it be so ?
Sal. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.
SOLA. My lord Bassanio, since you've found Anthonio,
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.. [Exeunt Solar. and Sala.
Gra. You look not well, signior Anthonio;
You have too much respect upon the world:
They lose it, that do buy it with much care.
Believe me, you are marvelously chang'd.
Anth. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano,
A stage, where every man must play his part,
And mine a sad one.
Gra. Let me play the fool;
With mirth and laughter, let old wrinkles come ;
And let my liver rather heat with wine,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.