Imágenes de páginas


[merged small][merged small][graphic][merged small]

Lorenzo, in love with Jessica,
Shylock, a rich Jew.
Tubal, a Jew, his friend.

Launcelot Gobbo, the clown, servant to Shylock.
Old Gobbo, father to Launcelot.
Leonardo, servant to Bassanio.

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants.'

Scene: Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont,1 the seat
of Portia, on the Continent.

1 "Dr. Karl Elze maintains that Belmont must have been on the banks oftheBrenta; and Th. Elze . . . narrows the locality to the neighborhood of Dolo, around which, from La Mira to Stra, on both banks of the Brenta, the magnificoes of Venice had, and still have, their palatial residences. . . . Belmont must be supposed to have been not far from the high road between Padua and Fusina." — Dr. Furness.

[graphic][merged small][merged small]
[ocr errors]



Scene I. Venice. A street

Enter Antonio, Salarino, and Salanio.

Ant. In sooth, 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,

5 I am to learn;
And such a want-wit sadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.

Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;
There where your argosies with portly sail,

10 Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,
Or, as it were, the pageants of the sea,
Do overpeer the petty traffickers,
That curtsy to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.

15 Salan. Believe me, sir, 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 sits the wind,
Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads;

20 And every object that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
Would make me sad.

Solar. My wind cooling my broth

Would blow me to an ague, when I thought B 3

What harm a wind too great at sea might do. 25 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 kiss her burial. Should I go to church 30 And see the holy edifice of stone,

And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks,

Which touching but my gentle vessel's side,

Would scatter all her spices on the stream,

Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, 35 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 bechanced would make me sad?

But tell not me; I know, Antonio 40 Is sad to think upon his merchandise.

Ant. 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 estate

Upon the fortune of this present year:
45 Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad.
Salar. Why, then you are in love.
Ant. Fie, fie!

Solai: Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad,

Because you are not merry: and 'twere as easy

For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry, 50 Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus,

Nature hath framed strange fellows in her time:

Some that will evermore peep through their eyes

And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper,

And other of such vinegar aspect 55 That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile,

Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.

Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.

Salmi. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well:
We leave you now with better company.
Go Salar. I would have stay'd till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
I take it, your own business calls on you
And you embrace the occasion to depart.
65 Salar. Good morrow, my good lords.

Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say,

You grow exceeding strange: must it be so?

Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours.

[Exeunt Salarino and Salanio.
Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
70 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;
You have too much respect upon the world:
75 They lose it that do buy it with much care:
Believe me, you are marvellously changed.

Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;
A stage where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.

Gra. Let me play the fool:

80 With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come,
And let my liver rather heat with wine
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
85 Sleep when he wakes and creep into the jaundice

« AnteriorContinuar »