Chapter XXVI: Act II

SCENE I. _Belmont. A room in_ PORTIA’S _house_.

_Flourish of cornets. Enter the_ PRINCE OF MOROCCO _and his train:_ PORTIA, NERISSA, _and others attending_.

_Mor._ Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun, To whom I am a neighbour and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phœbus’ fire scarce thaws the icicles, 5 And let us make incision for your love, To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine Hath fear’d the valiant: by my love, I swear The best-regarded virgins of our clime 10 Have loved it too: I would not change this hue, Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.

_Por._ In terms of choice I am not solely led By nice direction of a maiden’s eyes; Besides, the lottery of my destiny 15 Bars me the right of voluntary choosing: But if my father had not scanted me And hedged me by his wit, to yield myself His wife who wins me by that means I told you, Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair 20 As any comer I have look’d on yet For my affection.

_Mor._ Even for that I thank you: Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets. To try my fortune. By this scimitar That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince 25 That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, I would outstare the sternest eyes that look, Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, 30 To win thee, lady. But, alas the while! If Hercules and Lichas play at dice Which is the better man, the greater throw May turn by fortune from the weaker hand: So is Alcides beaten by his page; 35 And so may I, blind fortune leading me. Miss that which one unworthier may attain, And die with grieving.

_Por._ You must take your chance; And either not attempt to choose at all, Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong, 40 Never to speak to lady afterward In way of marriage: therefore be advised.

_Mor._ Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance.

_Por._ First, forward to the temple: after dinner Your hazard shall be made.

_Mor._ Good fortune then! 45 To make me blest or cursed’st among men.

[_Cornets, and exeunt._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 1.

Flourish...attending.] Enter Morochus a tawny Moore all in white and three or foure followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerrissa and their traine. Qq. Enter...traine. Flo. Cornets. F1. Enter Morochius...all white...traine. Flo. Cornets. F2 F3 F4.

2: _burnish’d_] _burning_ Collier MS.

4: _me_] om. Q1.

11: _Have_] _Hath_ Q1.

13: _solely_] Q3 Q4. _soly_ Q1 Q2 F2 F3. _solie_ F1. _soelly_ F4.

18: _wit_] _will_ Capell (Grey conj.).

24: _scimitar_] _semitaur_ Q1. _symitare_ Q2 F1 Q3 Q4. _symitar_ F2 F3 F4.

27: _outstare_] Q1. _ore-stare_ Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

30: _he_] Q1 Ff. _a_ Q2 Q3 Q4.

31: _thee, lady_] Rowe (ed. 2). _the lady_ Qq Ff.

35: _page_] Theobald. _rage_ Qq Ff.

43: _Come...unto_] _Therefore...to_ Pope.

_unto_] _to_ Q1.

46: _blest_] _bless’t_ Steevens. ~~~~~

SCENE II. _Venice. A street._

_Enter_ LAUNCELOT.

_Laun._ Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow, and tempts me, saying to me, ‘Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot,’ or ‘good Gobbo,’ or ‘good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away.’ My conscience 5 says, ‘No; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo,’ or, as aforesaid, ‘honest Launcelot Gobbo; do not run; scorn running with thy heels.’ Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack: ‘Via!’ says the fiend; ‘away!’ says the fiend; ‘for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,’ 10 says the fiend, ‘and run.’ Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, ‘My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man’s son,’—or rather an honest woman’s son;—for, indeed, my father did something smack, something grow to, he had a kind of 15 taste;—well, my conscience says, ‘Launcelot, budge not.’ ‘Budge,’ says the fiend. ‘Budge not,’ says my conscience. ‘Conscience,’ say I, ‘you counsel well;’ ‘Fiend,’ say I, ‘you counsel well:’ to be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who, God bless the mark, is a 20 kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very devil incarnal; and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The 25 fiend gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are at your command; I will run.

_Enter_ Old GOBBO, _with a basket_.

_Gob._ Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew’s?

_Laun._ [_Aside_] O heavens, this is my true-begotten 30 father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not: I will try confusions with him.

_Gob._ Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew’s?

_Laun._ Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, 35 but, at the next turning of all, on your left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew’s house.

_Gob._ By God’s sonties, ’twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with 40 him, dwell with him or no?

_Laun._ Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [_Aside_] Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. Talk you of young Master Launcelot?

_Gob._ No master, sir, but a poor man’s son: his father, 45 though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

_Laun._ Well, let his father be what a’ will, we talk of young Master Launcelot.

_Gob._ Your worship’s friend, and Launcelot, sir. 50

_Laun._ But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk you of young Master Launcelot?

_Gob._ Of Launcelot, an’t please your mastership.

_Laun._ Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman, according to 55 Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings, the Sisters Three and such branches of learning, is indeed deceased; or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heaven.

_Gob._ Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop. 60

_Laun._ Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or a prop? Do you know me, father?

_Gob._ Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman: but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, God rest his soul, alive or dead? 65

_Laun._ Do you not know me, father?

_Gob._ Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I-know you not.

_Laun._ Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son: 70 give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man’s son may; but, at the length, truth will out.

_Gob._ Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not Launcelot, my boy. 75

_Laun._ Pray you, let’s have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be.

_Gob._ I cannot think you are my son.

_Laun._ I know not what I shall think of that: but 80 I am Launcelot, the Jew’s man; and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother.

_Gob._ Her name is Margery, indeed: I’ll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipped might he be! what a beard hast thou 85 got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.

_Laun._ It should seem, then, that Dobbin’s tail grows backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face when I last saw him. 90

_Gob._ Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present. How ’gree you now?

_Laun._ Well, well: but, for mine own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have 95 run some ground. My master’s a very Jew: give him a present! give him a halter: I am famished in his service; you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come: give me your present to one Master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries: if 100 I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. O rare fortune! here comes the man: to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer.

_Enter_ BASSANIO, _with_ LEONARDO _and other followers_.

_Bass._ You may do so; but let it be so hasted, that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See 105 these letters delivered; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.

[_Exit a Servant._

_Laun._ To him, father.

_Gob._ God bless your worship!

_Bass._ Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me? 110

_Gob._ Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy,—

_Laun._ Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew’s man; that would, sir,—as my father shall specify,—

_Gob._ He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve,— 115

_Laun._ Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a desire,—as my father shall specify,—

_Gob._ His master and he, saving your worship’s reverence, are scarce cater-cousins,—

_Laun._ To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, 120 having done me wrong, doth cause me,—as my father, being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you,—

_Gob._ I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship, and my suit is,—

_Laun._ In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, 125 as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father.

_Bass._ One speak for both. What would you?

_Laun._ Serve you, sir.

_Gob._ That is the very defect of the matter, sir. 130

_Bass._ I know thee well; thou hast obtain’d thy suit: Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, And hath preferr’d thee, if it be preferment To leave a rich Jew’s service, to become The follower of so poor a gentleman. 135

_Laun._ The old proverb is very well parted between my master Shylock and you, sir: you have the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough.

_Bass._ Thou speak’st it well. Go, father, with thy son. Take leave of thy old master and inquire 140 My lodging out. Give him a livery More guarded than his fellows’: see it done.

_Laun._ Father, in. I cannot get a service, no; I have ne’er a tongue in my head. Well, if any man in Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to swear upon a book, I 145 shall have good fortune. Go to, here’s a simple line of life: here’s a small trifle of wives: alas, fifteen wives is nothing! a’leven widows and nine maids is a simple coming-in for one man: and then to ’scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed; 150 here are simple scapes. Well, if Fortune be a woman, she’s a good wench for this gear. Father, come; I’ll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.

[_Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo._

_Bass._ I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this: These things being bought and orderly bestow’d, 155 Return in haste, for I do feast to-night My best-esteem’d acquaintance: hie thee, go.

_Leon._ My best endeavours shall be done herein.

_Enter_ GRATIANO.

_Gra._ Where is your master?

_Leon._ Yonder, sir, he walks. [_Exit._

_Gra._ Signior Bassanio,— 160

_Bass._ Gratiano!

_Gra._ I have a suit to you.

_Bass._ You have obtain’d it.

_Gra._ You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont.

_Bass._ Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano: 165 Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice; Parts that become thee happily enough, And in such eyes as ours appear not faults; But where thou art not known, why, there they show Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain 170 To allay with some cold drops of modesty Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild behaviour, I be misconstrued in the place I go to, And lose my hopes.

_Gra._ Signior Bassanio, hear me: If I do not put on a sober habit, 175 Talk with respect, and swear but now and then, Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely; Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say ‘amen;’ Use all the observance of civility, 180 Like one well studied in a sad ostent To please his grandam, never trust me more.

_Bass._ Well, we shall see your bearing.

_Gra._ Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me By what we do to-night.

_Bass._ No, that were pity: 185 I would entreat you rather to put on Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends That purpose merriment. But fare you well: I have some business.

_Gra._ And I must to Lorenzo and the rest: 190 But we will visit you at supper-time. [_Exeunt._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 2.

Enter L.] Enter the Clown alone. Qq Ff.

1: _will_] _will not_ Halliwell.

3, 4, 7: _Gobbo_] Q1. _Iobbe_ Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4. _Job_ F3 F4.

_Launcelot_] _Launcelet_ Qq Ff.

8: _running with_] _running; withe_ Anon. ap. Steevens conj.

_courageous_] _contagious_ Collier MS.

9: _Via_] Rowe. _fia_ Qq Ff.

10: _for the_] _fore the_ Collier MS.

_heavens._] _heavens:_ Capell. _haven_ Mason conj.

19: _well_] _ill_ Q1.

23: _incarnal_] Q1. _incarnation_ Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

24: _but_] om. Ff.

27: _command_] Q1 _commandment_ Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

28: _young man_] _young-man_ Q2 Q3 Q4 F3 F4. _yong-man_ F1 F2.

32: _confusions_] Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. _conclusions_ Q1.

35: _up on_] Qq. _upon_ Ff.

38: _to_] _unto_ Q1.

39: _By_] F4. _Be_ Qq F1 F2 F3.

_sonties_] _bonties_ Jackson conj.

46: _say it_] Q1. _say’t_ Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

50: _Launcelot_] _Gobbo_ Farmer conj.

_sir_] Qq. om. Ff.

52: _Launcelot?_] _Launcelet?_ Q3 Q4 F4. _Launcelet._ Q1 Q2 F1 F2 F3. See note (III).

57: _is_] _in_ F2.

62: _know_] _not know_ Dyce conj.

71: _murder_] _muder_ Q2.

72: _at the length_] Q1. _in the end_ Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

73: _will out_] Qq F1. _will not_ F2 F3 F4.

85: _might_] om. Capell (corrected in MS.).

87: _fill-horse_] Pope (ed. 2). _pil-horse_ Q1. _philhorse_ Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. _thill-horse_ Theobald.

90: _of my_] Qq F1. F2. _on my_ F3 F4.

_last_] _lost_ Q2 F1.

93: _’gree_] _gree_ Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. _agree_ Q1.

98: _my_] _your_ Anon. conj.

101: _not him_] Qq Ff. _him not_ Rowe.

103: Enter...] Enter B. with a follower or two. Qq Ff.

107: [Exit...] om. Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. Exit one of his men. Q1.

122: _frutify_] _fortify_ Lloyd conj.

139: _speak’st_] _split’st_ Warburton conj.

143: _no;_] _no?_ Rowe (ed. 2).

_have_] _ha_ Q1.

144: _head._] _head?_ Rowe (ed. 2).

looking on his own hand. Hanmer.

_head. Well,_] Q1. _head, wel:_ Q2. _head, well:_ F1 F2.
_head: well,_ Q3 Q4. _head well:_ F3 F4.

145: _doth_] Here Warburton thinks a line has been lost.

_table which...book_] _table (which...book)_ Jackson conj.
_table—why, it doth...book_ Kenrick conj.

_book, I_] _book.—I_ Johnson (Heath conj.).

146: _good_] _no good_ Malone conj.

_fortune._] _fortune,—_ Tyrwhitt conj.

148: _a’leven_] _a leven_ Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4. _a leaven_ F3 F4. _eleven_ Q1.

149: _’scape_] _escape_ Q1.

153: _of an eye_] Q1 om. Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

[Exeunt...] Exit Clown. Qq Ff.

157: _go_] Q1. _goe_ Q2 F1 Q3 Q4. _gon_ F2. _gone_ F3 F4.

159: SCENE III. Pope.

[Exit.] Put after line 158 in Qq Ff.

162: _a_] om. Q2.

163: _You must_] _Nay, you must_ Hanmer, reading as verse.

165: _thee_] _me_ Q3 Q4.

168, 169: _faults; But...known,_] Ff Q3 Q4. _faults, But...knowne._ Q1. _faults But...knowne;_ Q2.

170: _Pray thee_] _prethee_ Q1.

173: _misconstrued_] _misconstred_ Qq. _misconsterd_ F1 F2 F3. _misconster’d_ F4.

174: _hopes_] _hope_ Q3 Q4.

175: _I_] om. F2.

177: _pocket_] _pockets_ Rowe.

188: _fare you well_] _faryewell_ Q1. ~~~~~

SCENE III. _The same. A room in_ SHYLOCK’S _house_.

_Enter_ JESSICA _and_ LAUNCELOT.

_Jes._ I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so: Our house is hell; and thou, a merry devil, Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness. But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee: And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see 5 Lorenzo, who is thy new master’s guest: Give him this letter; do it secretly; And so farewell: I would not have my father See me in talk with thee.

_Laun._ Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful 10 pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian did not play the knave, and get thee, I am much deceived. But, adieu: these foolish drops do something drown my manly spirit: adieu.

_Jes._ Farewell, good Launcelot. [_Exit Launcelot._ 15 Alack, what heinous sin is it in me To be ashamed to be my father’s child! But though I am a daughter to his blood, I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo, If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife, 20 Become a Christian, and thy loving wife. [_Exit._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 3.

SCENE III.] SCENE IV. Pope.

Enter...] Enter J. and the Clown. Qq Ff.

1: _I am_] _I’m_ Pope.

9: _in talk_] Qq. _talk_ Ff.

11: _did_] F2 F3 F4. _doe_ Qq F1.

11, 12: _did...get thee_] _do...get thee—_ Steevens.

13: _something_] Qq. _somewhat_ Ff.

17: _child!_] _child?_ Rowe. _child,_ Qq Ff. ~~~~~

SCENE IV. _The same. A street._

_Enter_ GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, _and_ SALANIO.

_Lor._ Nay, we will slink away in supper-time, Disguise us at my lodging, and return All in an hour.

_Gra._ We have not made good preparation.

_Salar._ We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. 5

_Salan._ ’Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order’d, And better in my mind not undertook.

_Lor._ ’Tis now but four o’clock: we have two hours To furnish us.

_Enter_ LAUNCELOT, _with a letter_.

Friend Launcelot, what’s the news?

_Laun._ An it shall please you to break up this, it shall 10 seem to signify.

_Lor._ I know the hand: in faith, ’tis a fair hand; And whiter than the paper it writ on Is the fair hand that writ.

_Gra._ Love-news, in faith.

_Laun._ By your leave, sir. 15

_Lor._ Whither goest thou?

_Laun._ Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian.

_Lor._ Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica I will not fail her; speak it privately. 20 Go, gentlemen, [_Exit Launcelot._ Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? I am provided of a torch-bearer.

_Salar._ Ay, marry, I’ll be gone about it straight.

_Salan._ And so will I.

_Lor._ Meet me and Gratiano 25 At Gratiano’s lodging some hour hence.

_Salar._ ’Tis good we do so. [_Exeunt Salar. and Salan._

_Gra._ Was not that letter from fair Jessica?

_Lor._ I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed How I shall take her from her father’s house; 30 What gold and jewels she is furnish’d with; What page’s suit she hath in readiness. If e’er the Jew her father come to heaven, It will be for his gentle daughter’s sake: And never dare misfortune cross her foot, 35 Unless she do it under this excuse, That she is issue to a faithless Jew. Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest: Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [_Exeunt._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 4.

SCENE IV.] SCENE V. Pope.

5: _us yet_] _as yet_ F4.

8: _o’_] _a_ Q1 F3 F4. _of_ Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4.

9: Enter...] Ff. Enter L. Qq.

10: _An it shall_] _And it shall_ Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. _If it_ Q1.

10, 11: _it shall seem_] _shall it seeme._ F1.

13: _whiter_] _whither_ F2.

14: _Is_] Qq. _I_ Ff.

21: _Go, gentlemen_] _go. Gentlemen_ Capell.

[Exit L.] Exit Clown. Qq Ff, placing it after line 23.

23: _you_] om. Q1.

_this_] _th’_ Hanmer.
~~~~~

SCENE V. _The same. Before_ SHYLOCK’S _house_.

_Enter_ SHYLOCK _and_ LAUNCELOT.

_Shy._ Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:— What, Jessica!—thou shalt not gormandise, As thou hast done with me:—What, Jessica!— And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;— 5 Why, Jessica, I say!

_Laun._ Why, Jessica!

_Shy._ Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.

_Laun._ Your worship was wont to tell me that I could do nothing without bidding.

_Enter_ JESSICA.

_Jes._ Call you? what is your will? 10

_Shy._ I am bid forth to supper, Jessica: There are my keys. But wherefore should I go? I am not bid for love; they flatter me: But yet I’ll go in hate, to feed upon The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl, 15 Look to my house. I am right loath to go: There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

_Laun._ I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect your reproach. 20

_Shy._ So do I his.

_Laun._ And they have conspired together, I will not say you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-Monday last at six o’clock i’ the morning, falling out that year on 25 Ash-Wednesday was four year, in the afternoon.

_Shy._ What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica: Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile squealing of the wry-neck’d fife, Clamber not you up to the casements then, 30 Nor thrust your head into the public street To gaze on Christian fools with varnish’d faces; But stop my house’s ears, I mean my casements: Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter My sober house. By Jacob’s staff, I swear 35 I have no mind of feasting forth to-night: But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah; Say I will come.

_Laun._ I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this; 40 There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess’ eye. [_Exit._

_Shy._ What says that fool of Hagar’s offspring, ha?

_Jes._ His words were, ‘Farewell, mistress;’ nothing else.

_Shy._ The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder; 45 Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day More than the wild-cat: drones hive not with me; Therefore I part with him; and part with him To one that I would have him help to waste His borrow’d purse. Well, Jessica, go in: 50 Perhaps I will return immediately: Do as I bid you; shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find, A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [_Exit._

_Jes._ Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, 55 I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [_Exit._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 5.

SCENE V.] SCENE VI. Pope.

Enter S. and L.] Enter the Jew and Lancelet. Q1. Enter Jew and his man that was the Clown. Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

1: _shalt_] _shall_ F1 F2.

7: _do_] Qq Ff. _did_ Rowe.

8: _that_] Q1. om. Q2 Ff Q3 Q4.

8, 9: Printed in Q2 Ff Q3 Q4 as two lines, ending _me...bidding._

25: _i’ the_] _in the_ Q1. _ith_ Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4. _ith’_ F3. _i’ th’_ F4.

27: _What, are there_] Q1. _What are there_ Q2 Q3 Q4. _What are their_ Ff. _What are these_ Pope.

_you_] om. Q1.

29: _squealing_] Q2 Ff Q3 Q4. _squeaking_ Q1.

_wry-neck’d_] _wry-neck_ Chedworth conj.

39: _I will go before_] _I’ll go before you_ S. Walker conj.

_at_] _at a_ Q1.

42: _Jewess’_] Pope. _Jewes_ Qq F1 F2. _Jew’s_ F3 F4.

46: _and he_] Qq. _but he_ F1. _but_ F2 F3 F4.

52, 53: _Do...find_] Q1; printed as one line in Q2 Ff Q3 Q4; bye Theobald as two lines, ending _bid you...find._

52: _Do...bid you_] om. Pope.

_doors_] _the doors_ Pope, who prints as one line _Shut...find._

53: _Fast...fast_] _safe...safe_ Collier Ms. ~~~~~

SCENE VI. _The same._

_Enter_ GRATIANO _and_ SALARINO, _masqued_.

_Gra._ This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo Desired us to make stand.

_Salar._ His hour is almost past.

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

_Salar._ O, ten times faster Venus’ pigeons fly 5 To seal love’s bonds new-made, than they are wont To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

_Gra._ That ever holds: who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again 10 His tedious measures with the unbated fire That he did pace them first? All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d. How like a younker or a prodigal The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 15 Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather’d ribs and ragged sails, Lean, rent, and beggar’d by the strumpet wind!

_Salar._ Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter. 20

_Enter_ LORENZO.

_Lor._ Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait: When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, I’ll watch as long for you then. Approach; Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! who’s within? 25

_Enter_ JESSICA, _above, in boy’s clothes_.

_Jes._ Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty, Albeit I’ll swear that I do know your tongue.

_Lor._ Lorenzo, and thy love.

_Jes._ Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed, For who love I so much? And now who knows 30 But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

_Lor._ Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.

_Jes._ Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. I am glad ’tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much ashamed of my exchange: 35 But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit; For if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy.

_Lor._ Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. 40

_Jes._ What, must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light. Why, ’tis an office of discovery, love; And I should be obscured.

_Lor._ So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. 45 But come at once; For the close night doth play the runaway, And we are stay’d for at Bassanio’s feast.

_Jes._ I will make fast the doors, and gild myself With some more ducats, and be with you straight. 50

[_Exit above._

_Gra._ Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.

_Lor._ Beshrew me but I love her heartily; For she is wise, if I can judge of her; And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true; And true she is, as she hath proved herself; 55 And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

_Enter_ JESSICA, _below_.

What, art thou come? On, gentlemen; away! Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.

[_Exit with Jessica and Salarino._

_Enter_ ANTONIO.

_Ant._ Who’s there? 60

_Gra._ Signior Antonio!

_Ant._ Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest? ’Tis nine o’clock: our friends all stay for you. No masque to-night: the wind is come about; Bassanio presently will go aboard: 65 I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

_Gra._ I am glad on’t: I desire no more delight Than to be under sail and gone to-night. [_Exeunt._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 6.

SCENE VI.] SCENE VII. Pope. Dyce makes no new scene here.

Enter...] Enter the maskers, Gratiano and Salarino. Q1. Enter the maskers, Gratiano and Salerino. Q2 Q3 Q4. Enter the maskers, Gratiano and Salino. Ff.

2: _to make_] om. Steevens.

_stand_] Qq. _a stand_ Ff.

_almost_] om. Grey conj.

5: _pigeons_] _widgeons_ Warburton.

6: _seal_] Qq. _steal_ Ff.

14: _younker_] Rowe. _younger_ Qq Ff.

17: _the_] Qq. _a_ Ff.

_doth she_] Qq F1 F2. _she doth_ F3 F4. _doth he_ Steevens
conj.

18: _over-weather’d_] _over-wetherd_ Q1 Q2. _over-weatherd_ Q3 Q4. _over-wither’d_ Ff.

24: _I’ll...then_] _Then will I watch as long for you_ Jackson conj.

_you then. Approach_] _you. Come then, approach_ Ritson conj.

_Approach_] Qq Ff. _Come, approach_ Pope.

25: _Ho!_] _Ho,_ Q1. _Howe_ Q2. _Hoa_ Ff. _Hoe_ Q3 Q4.

_who’s_] _whose_ Qq.

33: _it is_] _tis_ Q1.

34: _I am_] _I’m_ Pope.

41: _shames_] _shame_ F2.

44: _are you_] Qq. _you are_ Ff.

45: _lovely garnish of a_] _garnish of a lovely_ Collier MS.

50: _more_] Ff. _mo_ Qq.

51: _Gentile_] Q1 Q3 Q4 F2 F3 F4. _gentle_ Q2 F1.

52: _Beshrew_] Q1 Ff. _Beshrow_ Q2 Q3 Q4.

58: _gentlemen_] _gentleman_ Q2.

59: [Exit...] Exit. Qq Ff.

60: _Who’s there_] _Whose there_ Q2.

61: _Fie, fie_] _Fie_ Pope.

66: _I...you_] omitted in Q1.

67, 68: Continued to Antonio in Q1. ~~~~~

SCENE VII. _Belmont. A room in_ PORTIA’S _house_.

_Flourish of cornets. Enter_ PORTIA, _with the_ PRINCE OF MOROCCO, _and their trains_.

_Por._ Go draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince. Now make your choice.

_Mor._ The first, of gold, who this inscription bears, ‘Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire;’ 5 The second, silver, which this promise carries, ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves;’ This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, ‘Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.’ How shall I know if I do choose the right? 10

_Por._ The one of them contains my picture, prince: If you choose that, then I am yours withal.

_Mor._ Some god direct my judgment! Let me see; I will survey the inscriptions back again. What says this leaden casket? 15 ‘Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.’ Must 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 shows of dross; 20 I’ll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. What says the silver with her virgin hue? ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.’ As much as he deserves! Pause there, Morocco, And weigh thy value with an even hand: 25 If thou be’st rated by thy estimation, Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough May not extend so far as to the lady: And yet to be afeard of my deserving Were but a weak disabling of myself. 30 As much as I deserve! Why, that’s the lady: I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes, In graces and in qualities of breeding; But more than these, in love I do deserve. What if I stray’d no further, but chose here? 35 Let’s see once more this saying graved in gold; ‘Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.’ Why, that’s the lady; all the world desires her; From the four corners of the earth they come, To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint: 40 The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now For princes to come view fair Portia: The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar 45 To stop the foreign spirits; but they come, As o’er a brook, to see fair Portia. One of these three contains her heavenly picture. Is’t like that lead contains her? ’Twere damnation To think so base a thought: it were too gross 50 To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave. Or shall I think in silver she’s immured, Being ten times undervalued to tried gold? O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem Was set in worse than gold. They have in England 55 A coin that bears the figure of an angel Stamped in gold, but that’s insculp’d upon; But here an angel in a golden bed Lies all within. Deliver me the key: Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may! 60

_Por._ There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there, Then I am yours. [_He unlocks the golden casket._

_Mor._ O hell! what have we here? A carrion Death, within whose empty eye There is a written scroll! I’ll read the writing. [_Reads._

All that glisters is not gold; 65 Often have you heard that told: Many a man his life hath sold But my outside to behold: Gilded tombs do worms infold. Had you been as wise as bold, 70 Young in limbs, in judgment old, Your answer had not been inscroll’d: Fare you well; your suit is cold.

Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost! 75
Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.

[_Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets._

_Por._ A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go. Let all of his complexion choose me so. [_Exeunt._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 7.

SCENE VII.] SCENE III. Rowe. SCENE VIII. Pope.

[Flourish of cornets.] Flourish. Capell. om. Qq Ff. See note (IV).

Enter...] Enter Portia with Morrocho, and both their trains. Qq Ff.

5: _many_] Qq. om. Ff.

10: _How...right?_] This line is repeated in F1 F2.

12: _withal_] _with all_ Collier.

18: _threatens. Men_] Rowe. _threatens men_ Qq Ff.

21: _nor give_] Qq Ff. _not give_ Rowe (ed. 2).

24: _Morocco_] _Morrochius_ Pope.

26: _thy_] _the_ F4.

29: _afeard_] _afraid_ Q3 Q4.

34: _deserve_] _deserve her_ Collier (Capell conj.).

41: _vasty_] Q1. _vastie_ Q2 Q3 Q4. _vaste_ F1 F2. _vast_ F3 F4.

45: _Spits_] _Spets_ Qq Ff.

51: _rib_] Q1 Ff. _ribb_ Q2 Q3 Q4.

57: _Stamped_] Rowe (ed. 2). _Stampt_ Qq Ff.

62: [He...casket.] om. Qq Ff.

62–64: _O hell...scroll_] As in Capell. As two lines ending _Death ... scroll_ in Qq Ff.

64: _I’ll...writing_] Qq F1. omitted in F2 F3 F4.

69: _tombs do_] Capell (Johnson conj.). _timber do_ Q1 F2 F4. _timber doe_ Q2 F1 Q3 Q4. _wood may_ Pope.

72: _Your_] _This_ Johnson conj.

Here Holt White would repeat line 65, _All ... gold._

77: [Exit...cornets.] Dyce. Exit. Qq Ff. See note (IV). ~~~~~

SCENE VIII. _Venice. A street._

_Enter_ SALARINO _and_ SALANIO.

_Salar._ Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail: With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.

_Salan._ The villain Jew with outcries raised the Duke, Who went with him to search Bassanio’s ship. 5

_Salar._ He came too late, the ship was under sail: But there the Duke was given to understand That in a gondola were seen together Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica: Besides, Antonio certified the Duke 10 They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

_Salan._ I never heard a passion so confused, So strange, outrageous, and so variable, As the dog Jew did utter in the streets: ‘My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter! 15 Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats! Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter! A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter! And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones, 20 Stolen by my daughter! Justice! find the girl! She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats!’

_Salar._ Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.

_Salan._ Let good Antonio look he keep his day, 25 Or he shall pay for this.

_Salar._ Marry, well remember’d. I reason’d with a Frenchman yesterday, Who told me, in the narrow seas that part The French and English, there miscarried A vessel of our country richly fraught: 30 I thought upon Antonio when he told me; And wish’d in silence that it were not his.

_Salan._ You were best to tell Antonio what you hear; Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

_Salar._ A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. 35 I saw Bassanio and Antonio part: Bassanio told him he would make some speed Of his return: he answer’d, ‘Do not so; Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio, But stay the very riping of the time; 40 And for the Jew’s bond which he hath of me, Let it not enter in your mind of love: Be merry; and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship, and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there:’ 45 And even there, his eye being big with tears, Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, And with affection wondrous sensible He wrung Bassanio’s hand; and so they parted.

_Salan._ I think he only loves the world for him. 50 I pray thee, let us go and find him out, And quicken his embraced heaviness With some delight or other.

_Salar._ Do we so. [_Exeunt._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 8.

SCENE VIII.] SCENE IV. Rowe. SCENE IX. Pope. SCENE VII. Dyce. ACT III. SCENE I. Johnson conj.

6: _came_] Qq. _comes_ Ff.

8: _gondola_] Theobald. _gondylo_ Qq. _gondilo_ Ff. _gondalo_ Rowe.

9: _amorous_] _armorous_ Q1.

20: _two stones, two_] Qq F1. _two_ F2 F3 F4. _two stones,_ Pope. _too—two_ Collier (Collier MS.).

34: _do not_] _do’t not_ Heath conj.

_for_] _lest_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

39: _Slubber_] Q1 Ff. _Slumber_ Q2 Q3 Q4.

42: _enter in....of_] _entertain....off_ Jackson conj.

_mind of love_] _mind, of love_ Bennet Langton conj. _bond of
love_ Staunton conj. See note (V).

43: _employ_] _apply_ Collier (Collier MS.).

52: _embraced_] _enraced_ Warburton. _entranced_ Johnson conj. (withdrawn). _impressed_ Jackson conj. _unbraced_ Anon. ap. Halliwell conj. ~~~~~

SCENE IX. _Belmont. A room in_ PORTIA’S _house_.

_Enter_ NERISSA _with a_ Servitor.

_Ner._ Quick, quick, I pray thee; draw the curtain straight: The Prince of Arragon hath ta’en his oath, And comes to his election presently.

_Flourish of cornets. Enter the_ PRINCE OF ARRAGON, PORTIA, _and their trains._

_Por._ Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince: If you choose that wherein I am contain’d, 5 Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized: But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, You must be gone from hence immediately.

_Ar._ I am enjoin’d by oath to observe three things: First, never to unfold to any one 10 Which casket ’twas I chose; next, if I fail Of the right casket, never in my life To woo a maid in way of marriage: Lastly, If I do fail in fortune of my choice, 15 Immediately to leave you and be gone.

_Por._ To these injunctions every one doth swear That comes to hazard for my worthless self.

_Ar._ And so have I address’d me. Fortune now To my heart’s hope! Gold; silver; and base lead. 20 ‘Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.’ You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard. What says the golden chest? ha! let me see: ‘Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.’ What many men desire! that ‘many’ may be meant 25 By the fool multitude, that choose by show, Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach; Which pries not to the interior, but, like the martlet, Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Even in the force and road of casualty. 30 I will not choose what many men desire, Because I will not jump with common spirits, And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house; Tell me once more what title thou dost bear: 35 ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves:’ And well said too; for who shall go about To cozen fortune, and be honourable Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume To wear an undeserved dignity. 40 O, that estates, degrees and offices Were not derived corruptly, and that clear honour Were purchased by the merit of the wearer! How many then should cover that stand bare! How many be commanded that command! 45 How much low peasantry would then be glean’d From the true seed of honour! and how much honour Pick’d from the chaff and ruin of the times, To be new-varnish’d! Well, but to my choice: ‘Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.’ 50 I will assume desert. Give me a key for this, And instantly unlock my fortunes here.

[_He opens the silver casket._

_Por._ Too long a pause for that which you find there.

_Ar._ What’s here? the portrait of a blinking idiot, Presenting me a schedule! I will read it. 55 How much unlike art thou to Portia! How much unlike my hopes and my deservings! ‘Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves.’ Did I deserve no more than a fool’s head? Is that my prize? are my deserts no better? 60

_Por._ To offend, and judge, are distinct offices, And of opposed natures.

_Ar._ What is here?

[_Reads_] The fire seven times tried this; Seven times tried that judgement is, That did never choose amiss. 65 Some there be that shadows kiss; Such have but a shadow’s bliss: There be fools alive, I wis, Silver’d o’er; and so was this. Take what wife you will to bed, 70 I will ever be your head: So be gone: you are sped. Still more fool I shall appear By the time I linger here: With one fool’s head I came to woo, 75 But I go away with two. Sweet, adieu. I’ll keep my oath, Patiently to bear my wroth.

[_Exeunt Arragon and train._

_Por._ Thus hath the candle singed the moth. O, these deliberate fools! when they do choose, 80 They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.

_Ner._ The ancient saying is no heresy, Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.

_Por._ Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.

_Enter a_ Servant.

_Serv._ Where is my lady?

_Por._ Here: what would my lord? 85

_Serv._ Madam, there is alighted at your gate A young Venetian, one that comes before To signify the approaching of his lord; From whom he bringeth sensible regreets, To wit, besides commends and courteous breath, 90 Gifts of rich value. Yet I have not seen So likely an ambassador of love: A day in April never came so sweet, To show how costly summer was at hand, As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. 95

_Por._ No more, I pray thee: I am half afeard Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee, Thou spend’st such high-day wit in praising him. Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see Quick Cupid’s post that comes so mannerly. 100

_Ner._ Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be! [_Exeunt._

~~~~~ Linenotes: _The Merchant of Venice_, II, 9.

SCENE IX.] SCENE V. Rowe. SCENE X. Pope. SCENE VIII. Dyce.

3: Flourish of cornets.] Ff. om. Qq.

Enter...] Enter Arragon, his traine and Portia. Qq Ff.

7: _you_] Qq. _thou_ Ff.

13–15: _marriage: Lastly, If I do_] Edd. _marriage: Lastly, if I do_ Qq Ff. _marriage: Last, if I_ Pope. _marriage; lastly, If I do_ Capell.

19, 20: _me. Fortune...hope!_] _me, fortune...hope:_ Qq Ff.

22: After this line Mr Lloyd proposes to insert ‘_Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves:_’ see l. 35.

25: _desire!_] _desire,_ Qq Ff.

_’many’ may_] _may_ Pope.

25, 26: _that...By the_] _by that many may be Meant the_ Grant White conj.

26: _By the fool_] _Of the full_ Pope.

28: _pries not to the_] _prize not the_ Collier MS.

30: _road_] _rode_ Qq Ff.

33: _multitudes_] _multitude_ S. Walker conj.

39: _merit?_] Rowe. _merit,_ Qq Ff.

42: _and_] om. Pope.

46: _peasantry_] Q2 Q3 Q4. _pesantry_ Q1. _pleasantry_ Ff.

46–48: _glean’d...Pick’d_] _pick’d...Glean’d_ Johnson conj.

48: _chaff_] F4. _chaffe_ Q1 F1 F2 Q3 Q4 F3. _chaft_ Q2.

_ruin_] _rowing_ or _rowen_ Steevens conj.

49: _varnish’d_] _vernish’d_ Q1. _varnist_ Q2. _vanned_ Warburton.

51: _for this_] om. Steevens (Ritson conj.).

52: [He...casket.] Rowe. om. Qq Ff.

57: _deservings_] _deserving_ F4.

58: _have_] Qq Ff. _get_ Knight.

60: _prize_] _price_ Capell conj.

62: _is_] om. Q1.

64: _judgement_] _judement_ Q2.

68: _I wis_] See note (VI).

70: _wife_] _wise_ Jackson conj.

72: _be gone_] Qq F1. _be gone sir_ F2 F3 F4. _farewel, sir_ Capell.

73: _Still_] Q1. Arrag. _Still_ Q2 Q3 Q4. Ar. _Still_ Ff.

78: _wroth_] Q3 Q4. _wroath_ Q1 Q2 Ff. _wrath_ Warburton. _roth_ Dyce.

[Exeunt...train.] Capell. [Exit. Rowe. om. Qq Ff.

79: _moth_] Q1 F3 F4. _moath_ Q2 F1 F2 Q3 Q4.

81: _the wisdom_] _their wisdome_ Q1.

83: _goes_] _go_ Hanmer.

84: Enter a Servant.] Rowe. Enter Messenger. Qq Ff.

85: Por.] Ner. Tyrwhitt conj.

90: _courteous_] _curious_ Q3 Q4.

95: _fore-spurrer_] _fore-spurrier_ Capell (corrected in MS.).

96: _afeard_] _afraid_ Pope.

97: _Thou wilt_] _Thou’lt_ Pope.

100: _Quick Cupid’s post_] _Cupid’s quick post_ Collier MS.

101: _Bassanio, lord Love,_] Rowe. _Bassanio Lord, love_ Q1 Q2 F1 F2 F3. _Bassanio, Lord, Love_ Q3 Q4. _Bassanio Lord, love,_ F4. ~~~~~