The Comical History of

Por. I pray you tarry, paufe a day or two
Before you hazard : for in choosing wrong
I loofe your company, therefore forbeare a while,
There's something tels me (but it is not loue)
I would not lose you, and you know your selfe,
Hate counsels not in such a quality.
But least you should not vnderstand me well,
And yet a maiden hath no tongue, but thought,
I would detaine you heere some moneth or two
Before you venture for me. I could teach you
How to choose right, but I am then forsworne,
So will I neuer be, so may you misse me,
But if you do, you'l make me wifh a finne,
That I had bene forsworne. Befhrew your eyes,
They haue ore. lookt me, and diuided me,
One halfe of me is yours, the other halfe yours,
Mine owne I would say; but if mine then yours,
And so all yours. O these naughty times
Puts barres betweene the owners and their rights.
And so though yours, not yours (prone it so)
Let fortune go to hell for it, not I.
I speake too long, but tis to peize the time,
To eck it, and to dravv out in length,
To stay you from election.
Bass. Let me choose,
For as I am, I liue vpon the racke.
Por. Vpon the racke Baffanio, then confesse
What treason there is mingled vith your loue.
Bass. None but that vgly treason of miftruſt,
Which makes me feare th' inioying of my loue,
There may as well be amity and life
Tweene ſnow and fire, as treason and my loue.
Por. I but I feare you speake vpon the racke,
Where men enforced do speake any thing.
Bass. Promife me life, and ile confesse the truth,
Por. Well then, confesse and liue.

Bass.

the Merchant of Venice.

Bass. Confesse and loue,
Had bene the very ſum of my confession:
O happy torment, when my torturer
Doth teach me anſweres for deliuerance:
But let me to my fortune and the Caskets.
Portia. Away then, I am lockt in one of them,
If you do loue me, you will finde me out.
Neriffa and the reſt, ſtand all aloofe,
Let muſicke found while he doth make his choſe,
Then if he loſe, he makes a Swan-like end,
Fading in muſicke. That the comparison
May ſtand more proper, my eye ſhall be the ſtreame
And watry death-bed for him : he may win,
And what is muſicke then? Then muſicke is
Even as the flourish, when true ſubieſts bow
To a new crowd Monarch: Such it is,
As are thofe dulcet ſounds in breake of day,
That creepe into the dreaming Bridegroomes eare,
And summon him to marriage. Now he goes
With no leſſe preſence, but with much more loue
Then young Alcides, when he did redeeme
The virgin tribute, payd by howling Troy,
To the ſea-monſter: I ſtand for ſacrifice,
The reſt aloofe are the Dardanian wiues,
With bleared viſages come ſoorth to view
The iſſue of th' exploit: Goe Hercules,
Liue thou, I liue with much more diſmay
To view the fight, then thou that mak'st the fray.

A song, the whilet Baffanio comments on the
Caskets to himselfe.

Tell me where is fancy bred,
Or in the heart, or in the head ?
How begot, how nourished ?
Reſpire, reply.
It is engendered in the eye.

F

Wish

The Comical History of

With gazing fed, and Fancie dies :
In the cradle where it lies,
Let us all ring Fancies knell.
Ile begin it,
Ding, dong, bell.
All. Ding, dong, bell.

Baff. So may the outward showes be least theselues.
The world is still deceiu'd with ornament.
In Law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
But being seafon'd with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of euill. In religion
What damned error but some sober brow
Will bleffe it, and approue it with a text,
Hiding the grofenes with faire ornament :
There is no voice so simple, but affumes.

Some of vertue on his outward parts:
How many cowards whose hearts are all as false
As staiers of sand, weare yet vpon their chins
The beards of Hercules, and frowning Mars,
Who inward seareth, haue lyuers white as milke,
And thefe affume but valours excrement,
To render them redoubted. Looke on beauty,
And you shall see tis purchaſt by the weight,
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lighteſt that weare moſt of it:
So are those cripſed ſнакy golden locks
Which maketh ſuch wanton gambals with the wind,
Vpon ſuppoſed faireneſſe, often knowne
To be the dowry of a ſecond head,
The skull that bred them in the Sepulcher.
Thus ornament is but the guiled ſhore.
To a moſt dangerous ſea: the beauteous ſcarſe
Vailing an Indian beauty; In a word,
The ſeeming truth which cunning times put on
To intrap the wifef. Therefore thou gaudy gold,

Hard

the Merchant of Venice.

Hard foole for Midas, I will none of thee,
Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge
Tweene man and man : but thou, thou meager lead,
Which rather threatneſt then doſt promise ought,
Thy palenefſe moues me more then eloquence,
And heere choose I, ioy be the conſequence.

Por. How all the other passions fleet to ayre,
As doubtfull thoughts, and rafh imbrac'd despaire:
And ſhyddring ſeare, and greene-eyed ialouſe.
O loue be moderate, allay thy extaſie,
In meaſure range thy ioy, ſcant this exceſſe,
I feele too much thy bleſſing, make it leſſe,
For ſeare I ſurſet.

Baff. What finde I heere?
Faire Portias counterfeit. What demy God
Hath come so neere creation? moue theſe eyes?
Or whither riding on the ball's of mine
Seeme they in motion? Heere are ſeuerd lips
Parted with ſuger breath, so ſweet a barre
Should ſunder ſuch ſweet friends: heere in her haites
The painter playes the Spider, and hath wouen
A golden meſh t'intrap the hearts of men.
After then gnats in cobwebs, but her eyes,
How could he ſee to do them? hauing made one,
Me-thinks it should haue power to ſteale both his,
And leaue it ſelfe vnfurniſht : yet looke how farre
The ſubſtance of my prouſe doth wrong this ſhadow
In vnderprizing it, so farre this ſhadow
Doth limpe behind the ſubſtance. Heer's the ſeroule,
The continent and ſummary of my ſonune.

You that choose not by the view,
Chance as faire, and choose as true:
Since this fortune fails to you,
Be content, and feeke no new.

F 2

And

The Comicall History of

And hold your fortune for your bliffe,
Turne you where your Lady is,
And claire her with a louing kiffe.

A gentle scroule : Faire Lady, by your leaue,
I come by note to giue, and to receiue ;
Like one of two contending in a prize,
That thinks he hath done well in peoples eyes ;
Hearing applaue and vniuerfall shout,
Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt,
Whether those pearles of praebe his or no.
So thrice faire Lady, stand I euen so,
As doubtfull whether what I see be true,
Vntill confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.

Per. You see me Lord Baffanio where I stand,
Such as I am ; though for my selfe alone
I would not be ambitious in my wifh,
To wifh my selfe much better, yet for you,
I would be trebled twenty times my selfe,
A thousand times more faire, ten thousand times
More rich, that onely to stand high in your account,
I might in vertues, beauties, liuings, friends,
Exceed account : but the full summe of me
Is summe of something ; which to terme in groffe,
Is an vnleffon'd gytle, vn-school'd, vnpractised,
Happy in this, she is not yet so old
But she may learne : happier then this,
She is not bred so dull, but she can learne ;
Happieſt of all, is that her gentle ſpirit
Commits it ſelfe to yours, to be directed
As from her Lord, her Gouernor, her King.
My ſelfe, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted. But now I was the Lord
Of this faire mansion, maſter of my ſeruants,
Queene ore my ſelfe ; and euen now, but now,
This house, theſe ſeruants, and this fame my ſelfe

Are

the Merchant of Venice.

Are yours, my Lord, I giue them with this ring,
Which when you part from, loſe, or giue away,
Let it preſage the ruine of your loue,
And be my vantage to exclaime on you.

Baff. Madame, you haue bereſt me of all words,
Onely my blood ſpeakes to you in my veines,
And there is ſuch confusion in my powers,
As after some Oration fairely ſpoke
By a beloved Prince, there doth appeare
Among the buzzing pleaſed multitude.
Where euery ſomething being blent together,
Turnes to a wilde of nothing, ſaue of ioy
Expreſt, and not expreſt : but when this ring
Parts from this ſinger, then parts life from hence,
O then be bold to lay Baffanio is dead.

Ner. My Lord and Lady, it is now our time
That haue ſlood by and ſeene our wifhes proſper,
To cry good ioy, good ioy my Lord and Lady.

Gra. My Lord Baffanio, and my gentle Lady,
I wifh you all the ioy that you can wifh :
For I am ſure you can wifh none from me :
And when your honours meane to ſolemaize
The bargaine of your faith : I do beſeech you
Euen at that time I may be married to.

Baff. With all my heart, so thou canſt get a wife.
Gra. I thanke your Lordship, you haue got me one,
My eies my Lord, can looke as swift as yours ;
You ſaw the Miftrefſe, I beheld the Maid ;
You lou'd, I lou'd for intermiſſion,
No more pertaines to me my Lord then you,
Your fortune ſlood vpon the Casket there,
And so did mine too, as the matter fals :
For wooing heere vntill I swet againe,
And ſwearing till my very roofe was dry,
With oathes of loue, at laſt, if prieſome laſt
I got a prieſe of this faire one here.

F 3.

To

The Comical History of

To have her loue: prouided that your fortune
Atchieu'd her Miftris.

Por. Is this true, *Neriffia*?

Ner. Maddam it is, so you *stand* pleas'd withall,

Baff. And do you *Graatrano* meane good faith ?

Gra. Yes faith my Lord.

Baff. Our feast shall be much honoured in your marriage.

Gra. Wee'll play with them the first boy for a thousand ducats

Ner. What, and stake downe ?

Gra. No, we shall nere win at that sport and stake downe.

But who comes here, *Lorenzo* and his infidel ?

What, and my olde venetian friend, *Salerio*?

Enter Lorenzo, Iessica, and Salerio a messenger from Venice.

Baff. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither,

If that the youth of my new intrest heere

Haue power to bid you welcome: by your leaue

I bid my very friends and countrymen

Sweete Portia welcome.

Por. So do I my Lord, they are entirely welcome.

Lor. I thanke your Honour, for my part my Lord,

My purpose was not to haue scene you here,

But meeting with *Salerio* by the way,

He did entreate me past all faying nay,

To come with him along.

Sal. I did my Lord,

And I haue reason for it: Signior *Anthony*

Commends him to you.

Baff. Ere I ope his Letter,

I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.

Sal. Not fique my Lord, vnleſſe it be in minde,
Nor well, vnleſſe in minde: his Letter there

Will ſhow you his eſtate.

He opens the Letter.

Gra. *Neriffia*, cheere you on a stranger, bid her welcome.

Your hand *Salerio*, what's the newes from Venice?

How

the Merchant of Venice.

How doth that royall Merchant, good *Anthony*?

I know he will be glad of our ſucceſſe,

We are the *Iaſons*, we haue won the ſleece.

Sal. I would you had won the ſleece that he hath loſt.

Por. There are ſome ſhrewd contents in your ſame paper,

That ſteales the colour from *Baffanios* cheeke,

Some deare friend dead, ſelfe nothing in the world

Could turne so much the constitution

Of any conſtant man: what worſe and worſe?

With leaue *Baffanio*, I am halfe your ſelfe,
And I muſt freely haue the halſe of any thing

That this ſame paper brings you,

Baff. O ſwecte Portia,

Heere are a few of the vnpleaſant ſt words

That euer blotted paper. Gentle Lady,

When I did firſt impart my loue to you,

I freely told you all the wealth I had

Ran in my veines, I was a Gentleman,

And then I told you true: and yet deere Lady,

Rating my ſelfe at nothing, you ſhall ſee

How much I was a Braggart, when I told you

My ſtate was nothing, I should then baue told you

That I was worſe then nothing; for indeed

I haue ingag'd my ſelfe to a deere friend,

Ingag'd my friend to his meere enemy

To feed my meanes. Heer's a Letter Lady,

The paper as the body of my friend,

And euery word in it a gaping wound,

IFFuing life blood. But is it true *Salerio*?

Hath all his ventures faild ? what, not one hit,

From Tripolis, from *Mexico*, and *England*,

From *Lisbon*, *Barbary*, and *India*,

And not one veſſell escape the dreadfull touch

Of Merchant-marring rocks?

Sal. Not one my Lord,

Besides, it ſhould appeare, that if he had

The

The Comical History of

The prefent money to discharge the Iew,
He would not take it: neuer did I know
A creature that did beare the shape of man,
So keene and greedy to confound a man.
He plies the Duke at morning and at night,
And doth impeach the freedome of the state
If they deny him iustice, Twenty Merchants,
The Duke himselfe, and the Magnificoes
Of greatest port haue all perfwaded with him,
But none can druiue him from the enuious plea
Of forfeture, of iustice, and his bond.

Ieffica. When I was with him, I haue heard him fweare
To Tuball and to Chus, his Country-men,
That he would rather haue Anthonios fesh,
Then twenty times the value of the fumme
That he did owe him: and I know my Lord,
If law, authority, and power deny not,
It will go hard with poore Anthonio.

Por. Is it your deare friend that is thus in trouble?
Baff. The deereft friend to me, the kindeft man,
The beft condition'd and vnwearied ſpirit
In doing courtesies: and one in whom
The ancient Romane honour more appeares,
Then any that drawes breath in Italy.

Por. What fumme owes he the Iew?

Baff. For me three thoufand Ducats.

Por. What no more, pay him fix thoufand & deface the bond,
Double fixe thoufand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this deſcription

Shall lose a haire through Baffanios fault.
First go with me to Church, and call me wife,
And then away to Venice to your friend;
For neuer shall you lye by Portia's side
With an vnquiet foule. You shall haue gold
To pay the petty debt twenty times ouer.

When it is paid, bring your true friend along;

My

the Merchant of Venice.

My maide Nerriffa, and my ſelfe meane time
Will liue as maides and widdowes; come away,
For you shall hence vpon your wedding day.
Bid your friends welcome, ſhew a merry cheere,
Since you are deere bought, I will loue you deere.
But let me heare the letter of your friend.

Sweet Baffanio, My ships haue all miſcarried, my Creditors grow
cruell, my eſtate is very low: my bond to the Iew is forſet, and ſince in
paying it, it is iſpossible I should liue, all debts are cleared betweene
you and I if I might but ſee you at my death. Notwithstanding, vſe
your pleafure; if your loue doe not perſwade you to come, let not my
Letter.

O Loue! diſpatch all buſinesſe, and be gone.

Baff. Since I haue your good leaue to go away,
I will make haſt. But till I come againe,
No bed shall ere be guilty of my ſtay,
No reſt be interpoſer twixt vs twaine.

Exeunt.

Enter the Iew, and Salarino, and Anthonio,
and the Iaylor.

Iew. Iaylor, looke to him, tell not me of mercy,
This is the foole that lent out money gratis.
Iaylor, looke to him.

An. Heare me yet good Shylocke.

Iew. Ile haue my bond, ſpeake not againſt my bond:
I haue ſworne an oath, that I will haue my bond.
Thou cald'ſt me dogge before thou hadſt a cauſe,
But ſince I am a dogge, beware my fangs.
The Duke ſhall grant me iustice: I do wonder
Thou naughty Iaylor that thou art, ſo fond
To come abroad with him at his requeſt.

An. I prethee heare me ſpeake.

Iew. Ile haue my bond; I will not heare thee ſpeake;
Ile haue my bond, and therefore ſpeake no more.

G

Ile

The Comical History of

Ile not be made a soft and dull ey'd foole,
To shake the head, relent, and figh, and yeeld
To Christian interceffors: follow not,
Ile haue no ſpeaking, I will haue my bond.

Exit Iew.

Sol. It is the moſt impenetrable curre
That euer kept with men.

Ant. Let him alone,
Ile follow him no more with bootlesſe prayers.
He ſeekes my life, his reaſon well I know :
I oft deliuer'd from his forfeitures
Many that haue at times made mone to mee,
Therefore he hates me.

Sal. I am ſure the Duke will neuer grant
This forſeuture to hold.

An. The Duke cannot deny the course of Law:
For the commodity that ſtrangers haue
With vs in Venice, if it be denied,
Will much impeach the iſtice of his ſtate,
Since that the trade and profit of the City
Conſiſteth of all Nations. Therefore goe,
These greeſes and loſſes haue ſo bated me,
That I ſhall hardly ſpare a pound of ſleſh
To morrow, to my bloody Creditor.
VVell Iaylor on, pray God Baffanio come
To ſee me pay his debt, and then I care not. Exeunt.

Enter Portia, Nerriffa, Lorenzo, Iefſica, and a man of Portias.

Lor. Madam, although I ſpeake it in your preſence,
You haue a noble and a true conceite
Of God-like amity, which appeares moſt ſtrongly,
In bearing thus the abſence of your Lord.
But if you knew to whom you ſhew this honour,
How true a Gentleman you ſend reeleſe,

How

the Merchant of Venice.

How deere a louer of my Lord your husband,
I know you would be prouder of the worke,
Then customary bounty can enforce you.

Por. I neuer did repent for doing good,
Nor shall not now: for in companions
That do conuerſe and waſte the time together,
Whose ſoules do beare an equall yoke of loue,
There muſt be needs a like proportion
Of lineaments, of manners, and of ſpirit:
Which makes me thinke, that this *Anthony* (Being the boſome-louer of my Lord)
Muſt needs be like my Lord. If it be so,
How little is the coſt I haue beſtowed
In purchasing the ſembance of my ſoule,
From out the ſtate of helſiſh miſery.

This comes too neere the praſing of my ſelfe,
Therefore no more of it: heere other things
Lorenzo I commit into your hands,
The husbandry and manage of my house,
Vntill my Lords returne. For mine owne part,
I haue toward heauen breath'd a ſecret vow,
To liue in prayer and contemplation,
Onely attended by *Nerriffa* heere,
Vntill her husband, and my Lords returne.
There is a Monaſtery two miles off,
And there will we abide. I do deſire you,
Not to deny this impoſition,
The which my loue, and ſome neceſſity
Now layes vpon you.

Lor. Madame, with all my heart,
I ſhall obey you in all faire commands.

Por. My people do already know my mind,
And will acknowledge you and Iefſica,
In place of Lord Baffanio and my ſelfe.
And so farewell till we ſhall meete againe.

Lor. Faire thoughts & happy hours attend on you.

G2

Iſ.

The Comicall History of

Ies. I wifh your Lady-ship all hearts content.

Por. I thanke you for your wifh, and am well pleafd
To wifh it backe on you : farewell Ieſſica.

Now Balthaſer, as I haue euer found thee honest true,
So let me finde thee ſtill : Take this fame Letter,

And vſe thou all th'indeuour of a man

In ſpeede to *Mantua*; ſee thou render this

Into my Coſins hands, Doctor Belario,

And looke what notes and garments he doth giue thee,
Bring them I pray thee with imagin'd ſpeede

Vnto the Tranest, to the common Ferry

Which trades to Venice : waſte no time in words,
But get thee gone, I ſhall be there before thee.

Bai. Madam, I go with all conuenient ſpeede.

Por. Come on Nerriffa, I haue worke in hand

That you yet know not of. Wee'l ſee our husbands
Before they thinke of vs.

Ner. Shall they ſee vs?

Por. They ſhall Nerriffa : but in ſuch a habite,
That they ſhall thinke we are accomplifhed
With that we lacke. Ile hold thee any wager,

When we are both apparreld like yong men,
Ile proue the prettier ſellow of the two,

And weare my dagger with the brauer grace,

And ſpeake betweene the change of man and boy,
With a reede voice, and turne two mincing ſteps
Into a manly ſtride; and ſpeake of ſrayes

Like a fine bragging youth; and tell quaint lyes,
How honourable Ladies fought my loue,

Which I denying, they fell ſicke and dyed :
I could not doe withall. Then ile repent,

And wifh for all that, that I had not kill'd them;

And twenty of theſe punie lies ile tell,

That men ſhall ſweare I haue discontinued Schoole
Above a twelue-month. I haue within my minde

A thouſand raw trickes of theſe bragging iackes,

VWhich

the Merchant of Venice.

VWhich I will practise.

Ner. VVhy, ſhall we turne to men?

Por. Fie, what a question's that,

If thou wert nere a lewd interpreter :

But come, ile tell thee all my whole deuice

VWhen I am in my Coach, which ſtayes for vs

At the Parke gate; and therefore haſt away,

For we muſt meaſure twenty miles to day.

Exeunt

Enter Clowne and Ieſſica.

Clo. Yes truly, for looke you, the ſinnes of the Father are to
be laid vpon the children, therefore I promife ye I feare you, I
was alwayes plaine with you, and so now I ſpeake my agitation
of the matter : therefore be a good cheere, for truly I think you
are damn'd, ther is but one hope in it that can do you any good,
and that is but a kind of baſtard hope neither.

Ieſ. And what hope is that I pray thee?

Clo. Marry you may partly hope that your Father got you
not, that you are not the Jewes daughter.

Ieſſi. That were a kind of baſtard hope indeede, so the ſins of
my mother ſhould be visited vpon me.

Clo. Truely then I feare you are damn'd both by Father and
Mother : thus when I ſhun Scilla your father, I fal into Charibdis
your mother; well, you are gone both wayes.

Ieſ. I ſhall be ſau'd by my husband, he hath made me a chri-
tian.

Clo. Truly the more to blame he; we were Chriſtians, know
before, e'ne as many as could well liue one by another: this ma-
king of Chriſtians will raiſe the price of hogs, if we grow all to
be Porke-eaters, we ſhall not ſhortly haue a rafſher on the coles
for money.

Enter Lorenſo.

Ieſ. Ile tel my husband Lancelet what you ſay, here he comes.

Lor. I ſhall grow icalous of you ſhortly Lancelet, if you thus

get.

G3

## The Comical History of

get my wife into corners.

Ies. Nay, you need not feare vs Lorenzo, Launcelet and Iare out; he tells me flatly, there's no mercy for me in heauen, because I am a Iewes daughter: and he sayes you are no good member of the Common-wealth, for in conuerting Iewes to Christians, you raise the price of Porke.

Lor. I shall anfware that better to the Common-wealth than you can the getting vp of the Negros belly; the Moore's with childe by you Lancelet?

Clowne. It is much that the Moore should be more then reason: but if she be lesse then an honest woman, shee is indeede more then I tooke her for.

Lor. How euery foole can play vpon the word, I thinke the best grace of wit will shortly turne into silence, and discourſe grow commendable in none onely but Parrats. Go in firra, bid them prepare for dinner.

Clow. That is done fir, they haue all ſtomackes.

Lor. Goodly Lord what a wit-snapper are you; then bid the prepare dinner.

Clo. That's done to fir, onely couer is the word.

Lor. Will you couer than fir ?

Clo. Not so fir neither, I know my duty.

Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occasion, wilt thou ſhewe the whole wealth of thy witte in an instant? I pray thee vnderstand a plaine man in his plaine meaning: Goe to thy Fellowes, bid them couer the table, ſerue in the meate, and we will come in to dinner.

Clo. For the table fir, it shall be ſeru'd in, for the meate fir it shall be couered, for your comming in to dinner fir, why let it be as humors and conceits shall gouerne.

Exit Clowne.

Lor. O deere discretion, how his words are ſuted,
The foole hath planted in his memory
An army of good words, and I do know
A many fooles that stand in better place,
Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksie word
Defie the matter: how far'ft thou Iessica?

And

## the Merchant of Venice.

And now good sweet lay thy opinion,
How doſt thou like the Lord Baffanios wife?

Ies. Paſt all expreſſing, it is very meete
The Lord Baffanio lieue an vpright life,
For hauing ſuch a bleſſing in his Lady.

He findes the ioyes of heauen heere on earth,
And if on earth he does not meane it, then
In reaſon he ſhould neuer come to heauen.

Why, if two Gods ſhould play ſome heauenly match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,
And Portia one: there muſt be ſomething else
Pawn'd with the other; for the poore rude world
Hath not her fellow.

Lor. Euen ſuch a husband haſt thou of me,
As she is for wife.

Ies. Nay, but aske my opinion to of that.

Lor. I will anon, firſt let vs go to dinner.

Ies. Nay, let me praisſe you while I haue a ſtomacke.

Lor. No prethee, let it ſerue for table talke,
Then how ſoere thou ſpeakſt mong other things,
I shall diſgeſt it.

Ies. Well, ile ſet you forth.

Exit.

Enter the Duke, the Alagnificos, Antonio, Baffanio,
and Gratiano.

Duke. What, is Anthony heere?

An. Ready, so please your Grace.

Duke. I am ſorry for thee, thou art come to anſwer
A ſtony aduerſary, an inhumane wretch,
Vncapeable of pitty, voide and empty
From any dram of mercy.

An. I haue heard,
Your Grace hath tane great paines

To qualifie his rigorous course:
But ſince he stands obdurate,

And

The Comicall History of

And that no lawfull means can carrie mee.

Out of his enuies reach, I do oppofe.

My patience to his furie, and am arm'd.

To suffer with a quietneſſe of ſpirit,

The verie tiranny and rage of his.

Duke. Go one and call the Iew into the Court.

Sal. He is ready at the doore, he comes my Lord.

Enter Shylocke.

Du. Make roome, and let him stand before our face.

Shylocke the world thinkes, and I thinke so to,
That thou but leadeſt this fashion of thy malice

To the laſt houre of aſt, and then tis thought

Thou'lt shew thy mercie and remorſe more ſtrange,

Then is thy ſtrange apparant cruelty :

And where thou now exacts the penalty,
(VVhich is a pound of this poore Merchants ſlesh)

Thou wilt not onely loose the forfeiture,

But touch'd with humane gentlenſe and loue,

Forgive a moity of the principall ;

Glancing an eie of pittie on his loſſes,

That haue of late so hudled on his backe,

Enow to preſſe a royall Merchant downe,

And plucke commiſſation of his state

From braſſe boſomes, and rough hearts of flint,

From ſtubborne Turkes, and Tartars neuer train'd

To offices of tender curſeſe,

VVe all expect a gentle anſwer Iew.

Iew. I haue poffeſt your Grace of what I purpose,

And by our holy Sabbath haue I ſworne

To haue the due and forſet of my bond.

If you deny it, let the danger light

Vpon your Charter, and your Cities ſreedome.

You'l aske me why I rather choose to haue

A weight of carrion ſlesh, then to receiue

Three

the Merchant of Venice.

Three thouſand Ducats ? Ile not anſwer that,
But ſay it is my humor, is it anſWERED ?

What if my houſe be troubled with a Rat,
And I be pleas'd to giue ten thouſand ducats

To haue it baind ? what, are you anſWERED yet?

Some men there are loue not a gaping pig.

Some that are mad if they behold a Cat :

And others when the Bagpipe ſings i'th noſe,

Cannot containe their vrine for affection.

Masters of paſſion ſwayes it to the mood

Of what it likes or loathes : now for your anſwere,

As there is no firme reaſon to be rendred,

Why he cannot abide a gaping pig ?

Why he a harmleſſe neceſſary Cat ?

Why he a woollen Bagpipe; but of force

Muſt yeeld to ſuch ineuitable ſhame,

As to offend, himſelfe being offended :

So can I giue no reaſon, nor I will not,

More then a lodged hate, and a certaine loathing

I beare Anthony, that I follow thus

A loſing ſute againſt him; are you anſWERED ?

Baſſ. This is no anſwer, thou vnfeeling man,

To excufe the current of thy crueltie.

Shy. I am not bound to pleafe thee with my anſwere.

Baſſ. Do all men kill the things they do not loue ?

Shy. Hates any man the thing he would not kill ?

Bass. Euery offence is not a hate at first.

Shy. What wouldſt thou haue a serpent ſting thee twice ?

Ant. I pray you thinke you queſtion with the Iew,

You may as well go stand vpon the Beach,

And bid the maine flood bate his vſual height,

You may as well vſe queſtion with the Wolfe,

Why he hath made the Ewe bleake for the Lambes

You may as well forbid the mountaine of Pines

To wag their high tops, and to make no noſe

When they are fretten with the guſts of heauen :

H

You

The Comical History of

You may as well do any thing most hard,
As feeke to soften that, then which what's harder :

As feeke to soften that, then which what's harder :
His Jewish heart? therefore I do beſeech you

His Jewish heart? therefore I do beſeech you
Make no moe offers,vſe no farther meanes,

Make no moe offers,vſe no farther meanes,
But with all briefe and plaine conueniency

But with all briefe and plaine conueniency
Let me haue iudgement,and the Iew his will.

Baff. For thy three thouſand ducats here is fixe.

Iew. If euery ducat in fix thouſand ducats

Were in fixe parts,and euery part a ducat,

Were in fixe parts, and euery part a ducat,
I would not draw them, I would haue my bond.

Dw. How hafthou hope formercy, rendring none ?

Iew. What iudgment ſhall I dread, doing no wrong ?

You haue among you many a purccha ſlaue,
Which like your Aſſes, and your Dogs and Mules,

You vſe in abieſt and in ſlauiſh parts,

Because you bought them, ſhall a ſay to you,

Because you bought them, ſhall a ſay to you,
Let them be free, marry them to your heires.

Why ſweat they vnder burtheus, let their beds

Be made as soft as yours, and let their pallars

Be feaſon'd with ſuch viands; you will anſwer,

The ſlaues are ours, to do I anſwer you;

The pound of fleſh which I demand of him,

Is deerely bought, tis mine and I will haue it.

If you deny me, ſie vpon your Law,

There is no force in the decrees of Venice :

I ſtand for iudgement, anſwer, ſhall I haue it?

Duke. Vpon my power I may dismiſſe this Court,

Vnleſſe Bellario a learned Doctor,

Whom I haue ſent for to determine this,

Come heere to day.

Saler. My Lord, heere ſtayes without,

A meſſenger with letters from the Doctor,

New come from Padua.

Duke. Bring vs the Letters, call the Meſſenger.

Baff. Good cheere Anthonio, what man, courage yet?

The Iew ſhall haue my fleſh, blood, bones and all,

Ero

the Merchant of Venice.

Ere thou hafthoſt loſe for me one drop of blood.

Antho. I am a tainted weather of the flocke,
Meeteth for death, the weakeſt kinde of fruite

Drops earlieſt to the ground, and to let me;

You cannot better be iſployd Baffanio,

Then to liue ſtill and write mine Epitaph.

Enter Neriffa.

Dw.ig. Came you from Padua from Bellario ?

Ner. From both, my L. Bellario greets your grace,

Baff. Why doſt thou whet thy knife so earneſtly ?

Iew. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrout there

Gra. Not on thy ſoule: but on thy ſoule haffh Iew.

Thou mak'ſt thy knife keene: but no mettall can,

No, not the hangmans axe beare hafte the keeneneſſe

Of thy ſharpe enuy: can no prayers pierce thee ?

Iew. No, none that thou haſt wit enough to make.

Gra. O be thou damn'd, inexecrable dog,

And for thy life let iustice be accuſde;

Thou almost mak'ſt me wauer in my faith,

To hold opinion with Pythagoras,

That ſoules of Animals inſuſe themſelues

Into the trunks of men: Thy currifh ſpirit

Gouern'd a Wolfe, who hang'd for humane ſlaughter,

Euen from the gallowes did his ſell ſoule fleete,

And whilſt thou layeſt in thy vnhallowed dam,

Inſuſde it ſelfe in thee: for thy deſires

Are woluiſh, bloody, ſtaru'd and rauenous.

Iew. Till thou canſt raile the ſcale from off my bond,
Thou but offenſt thy lungs to ſpeake so loud:

Repaire thy wit, good youth, or it will fall

To cureleſſe ruine. I ſtand heere for law.

Duke. This letter from Bellario doth commend

A young and learned Doctor to our Court :

Where is he ?

Ner. He attendeth heere hard by,

H 2

To

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To know your anſwere, whether you'l admit him,
Duke. With all my heart; ſome three or ſoure of you
Goe give him courteous conduct to this place,
Meane time the Court shall heare Bellarios Letter.

Your Grace shall understand, that at the receite of your Letter I am
very ſicke; but in the instant that your Messenger came, in louing vi-
ſitation was with me a young Doctor of Rome, his name is Balthazer:
I ac quainted him with the cause in controuerſie betweene the Iew and
Anthony the Merchant; we turned ore many Bookes together, hee is
furnished with my opinion, which bettred with his owne learning, the
greatneſſe whereof I cannot enough commend, comes with him at my
importunity, to fill vp your Graces requeſt in my ſtead. I beſeech you,
let his lacke of years be no impediment to let him lacke a reuerend eſti-
mation, for I neuer knew so young a body with ſo olde a head: I leaue
him to your gracious acceptance, whose triall shall better publifh his
 commendation.

Enter Portia for Balthazar.

Duke. You heare the learn'd Bellario what he writes,
And heere I take it is the Doctor come.
Gieue me your hand, come you from old Bellario?

Por. I did my Lord.

Duke. You are welcome, take your place:
Are you acquainted with the difference

That holds this present question in the Court.

Por. I am enformed throughly of the cauſe:
Which is the Merchant heere? and which the Iew?

Duke. Anthonio and olde Shylocke, both ſtand foorth.

Por. Is your name Shylocke?

Iew. Shylocke is my name.

Por. Of a ſtrange nature is the ſute you follow,
Yet in ſuch rule, that the Venetian law

Cannot impunge you as you do proceed,
You ſtand within his danger, doe ye not?

Ant. I, so he fayes.

For.

the Merchant of Venice.

Por. Do you confefſe the bond?

Ant. I do.

Por. Then muſt the Iew be mercifull.

Shy. On what compulſion muſt I, tell me that.

Por. The quality of mercy is not ſtrain'd,
It droppeth as the gentle raine from heauen
Vpon the place beneath: it is twice bleſſ,
It bleſſeth him that giues, and him that takes,
Tis mightieſt in the mightieſt, it becomes
The throned Monarch better then his crowne.

His ſcepter ſhewes the force of temporall power,
The attribute to awe and maiefly,

Wherein doth fit the dread and feare of Kings:
But mercy is aboue this ſceptred ſway,

It is enthroned in the hearts of Kings,
It is an attribute to God himselfe;

And earthly power doth then ſhew lik' ſt Gods,
When mercy ſeafons iuſtice: therefore Iew,
Though iuſtice be thy plea, confider this,
That in the course of iuſtice, none of vs

Should fee ſaluation: we do pray for mercy,
And that fame prayer, doth reach vs all to render
The deeds of mercy. I haue ſpoke thus much
To mitigate the iuſtice of thy plea,

Which if thou follow, this strict Court of Venice

Muſt needs giue ſentence gainſt the Merchant there,
Shy. My deeds vpon my head, I craue the law,
The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

Por. Is he not able to diſcharge the money?
Baff. Yes, heere I tender it for him in the Court,
Yea twice the ſumme, if that will not ſuffice,
I will be bound to pay it ten times ore,
On forfeit of my hands, my head, my heart:

If this will not ſuffize, it muſt appeare
That malice beares downe truth. And I beſeech you,
Wreſt once the Law to your authority,

H 3

To

The Comical History of

To do a great right, do a little wrong,
And curbe this cruell diuell of his will.

Por. It must not be, there is no power in Venice
Can alter a Decree established :
I will be recorded for a precedent,
And many an errour by the same example,
Will ruſh into the state, it cannot be.

Shy. A Daniel come to iudgement: yea a Daniel.
O wife young Iudge, how I do honour thee.

Por. I pray you let me looke vpon the bond.

Shy. Heere tis moſt reuerend Doctor, here it is.

Por. Shylocke, ther's thrice thy money offred thee.

Shy. An oath, an oath, I haue an oath in heauen,

Shall I lay periury vpon my ſoule ?
No, not for Venice.

Por. Why this bond is forfeit,
And lawfully by this the Jew may claime

A pound of ſlesh, to be by him cut off
Neereft the Merchants heart; be mercifull,

Take thrice thy money, bid me teare the bond.

Shy. When it is paid, according to the tenour.
It doth appeare you are a worthy Iudge,
You know the Law, your expofition

Hath bene moſt found : I charge you by the Law,
Whereof you are a well deferuing Pillar,
Proceed to iudgement : by my ſoule I ſweare,

There is no power in the tongue of man

To alter me, I stay heere on my bond.

Ant. Moſt heartily I do beſeech the Court
To giue the iudgement.

Por. Why then thus it is,
You muſt prepare your boſome for his knife.

Shy. O noble Iudge, O excellent young man.

Por. For the intent and purpose of the Law,
Hath full relation to the penalty,

Which heere appeareth due vpon the bond.

Shy.

the Merchant of Venice.

Shy. Tis very true: O wife and vpright iudge,
How much more elder art thou then thy lookes.

Por. Therefore lay bare your boſome.
Shy. I, his breast,

So layes the bond, doth it not noble Iudge?

Neereft his heart, thoſe are the very words.

Por. It is so, are there ballance here to weigh the ſleth?

Shy. I haue them ready.

Por. Haue by ſome Surgeon Shylocke on your charge,
To ſtop his wounds, leaſt he do bleed to death.

Shy. Is it so nominated in the bond ?

Por. It is not so expreſſt, but what of that?

Twere good you do so much for charity.

Shy. I cannot finde it, tis not in the bond.

Por. You Merchant, haue you any thing to ſay?

Ant. But little; I am arm'd and well prepar'd,

Give me your hand Baffanio, far you well,

Greeue not that I am falne to this for you :

For heerein Fortune ſhewes her ſelfe more kinde

Then is her eſtome : it is ſtill her vſe

To let the wretched man out-lieu his wealth,

To view with hollow eye and wrinckled brow,

An age of povertie : from which lingring pennance
Of ſuch miſery doth the cut me off.

Commend me to your honourable wife,

Tell her the proceſſe of Anthonios ende,

Say how I lou'd you, ſpeake me faire in death:

And when the tale is told, bid her be iudge,

Whether Baffanio had not once a loue :

Repent but you that you ſhall lose your friend,

And he repents not that he payes your debt.

For if the Iew do cut but deepe enough,

Ile pay it preſently with all my heart.

Baff. Anthonio, I am married to a wife,

Which is as deare to me as life it ſelfe,

But life it ſelfe, my wife, and all the world.

Are

The Comical History of

Are not with me esteem'd aboue thy life,

I would lofe all, I sacrifize them all,

Heere to this diuell, to deliuer you.

Por. Your wife would giue you little thanks for that

If she were by to heare you make the offer,

Gra. I haue a wife, who I protest I loue,

I would she were in heauen, so she could

Entreate some power to change this curriſh Iew,

Ner. This well you offer it behinde her backe,

The wifh would make else an vnquiet house.

Iew. These be the chriftian husbands, I haue a daughter,

Would any of the stocke of Barrabas

Had bene her husband, rather then a Chriftian.

We trifle time, I pray thee purſue ſentence.

Por. A pound of that ſame Merchants fleſh is thine,

The Court awards it, and the law doth giue it.

Iew. Moſt rightfull Iudge.

Por. And you muſt cut this fleſh from off his breast,

The Law allowes it, and the Court awards it.

Iew. Moſt learned Iudge, a ſentence, come prepare.

Por. Tarry a little, there is ſomething else,

This bond doth giue thee here no iote of blood,

The words expreſſly are a pound of fleſh :

Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of fleſh,

But in the cutting it, if thou doſt ſhed

One drop of Chriftian blood, thy lands and goods

Are by the lawes of Venice, confiſcate

Vnto the State of Venice.

Gra. O vpright Iudge,

Marke Iew, O learned Iudge.

Sby. Is that the Law?

Por. Thy ſelfe ſhalt fee the A&:

For as thou vrgedt iuſtice, be affur'd

Thou ſhalt haue iuſtice, more then thou desir'd.

Gra. O learned Iudge, marke Iew, a learned Iudge.

Iew. I take this offer then, pay the bond thrice,

And

the Merchant of Venice.

And let the Chriftian go.

Baff. Heere is the money.

Por. Soft, the Iew shall haue all iuſtice, soft no haſt
He shall haue nothing but the penalty.

Gra. O Iew, an vpright iudge, a learned iudge.

Por. Therefore prepare thee to cut off the fleſh,
Shed thou no blood, nor cut thou leſſe nor more,
But iuſt a pound of fleſh : if thou cutſt more
Or leſſe then a iuſt pound, be it but so much
As makes it light or heavy in the ſubſtance,
Or the diuſion of the twentith part
Of one poore ſcruple ; nay, if the ſcale do turne
But in the estimation of a haire,

Thou dyſeſt, and all thy goods are confiſcate.

Gra. A ſecond Daniel, a Daniel Iew,
Now infidel I haue you on the hip.

Por. Why doth the Iew paſſe, take thy forſeyture.

Sby. Giue me my principall, and let me go.

Baff. I haue it ready for thee, heere it is.

Por. He hath refuſ'd it in the open Court,
And ſhall haue meerely iuſtice and his bond.

Gra. A Daniel ſtill ſay I, a ſecond Daniel,

I thankee thee Iew for teaching me that word.

Sby. Shall I not haue barely my principall?

Por. Thou ſhalt haue nothing but the forſeyture,
To be ſo taken at thy perill Iew.

Sby. Why then the deuill giue him good of it :
Ile ſtay no longer heere in queſtion.

Por. Tarry Iew,
The Law hath yet another hold on you.

It is enaſtied in the lawes of Venice,

If it be proued againſt any alien,

That by direct, or indirect attempts,

He ſeeke the life of any Citizen,

The party gainſt the which he doth contriue,

Shall ſeize on halfe his goods; the other halfe

I

Comes

The Comical History of

Comes to the priuay coſter of the State,
And the offenders life lies in the mercy
Of the Duke onely, gainſt all other voyce.

In which predicament I say, thou ſtandſt :
For it appeares by manifeit proceeding,
That indirectly, and directly to
Thou haſt contriued gainſt the very life
Of the defendant : and thou haſt incurd
The danger formerly by me rehearſt.

Downe therefore, and beg mercy of the Duke.

Gra. Beg that thou maſt haue leaue to hang thy ſelf,
And yet thy wealth being forfeit to the state,
Thou haſt not left the value of a cord,

Therefore thou muſt be hangd at the States charge.

Duke. That thou ſhalt see the difference of our ſpirits,
I pardon thee thy life before thou aske it :

For halſe thy wealth, it is Anthonios,
The other halſe comes to the generall State,
Which humbleneſſe may driue vnto a fine.

Por. I for the state, not for Anthonio.

Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not that,
You take my house, when you do take the prop
That doth ſuſtaine my house: you take my life
When you do take the meanes whereby I liue.

Por. What mercy can you render him, Anthonio?

Gra. A halter gratis, nothing else for Gods sake.

An. So please my Lord the Duke, & all the Court,
To quit the fine for one halſe of his goods,

I am content; so he will let me haue
The other halſe in vſe, to render it
Vpon his death vnto the Gentleman
That lately ſtole his daughter.

Two things prouided more, that for this ſaumour

He preſently become a Chriſtian :

The other, that he do record a giſt

Heere in the Court, of all he dies poſſeſt

Vnto

the Merchant of Venice.

Vnto his ſonne Lorenzo and his daughter.

Du're. He shall do this, or else I do recant

The pardon that I late pronounced heere.

Por. Art thou contented Iew ? what doſt thou ſay?

Shy. I am content.

Por. Clearke, draw a deed of giſt.

Shy. I pray you giue me leaue to go from hence,
I am not well, ſend the deed after me,
And I will ſigne it.

Duke. Get thee gone, but do it.

Gra. In chriſting ſhalt thou haue two Godfathers,
Had I bene iudge, thou ſhouldſt haue had ten more,
To bring thee to the gallowes, not the Font.

Exit.

Duke. Sir, I intreate you home with me dinner.

Por. I humbly deſire your Grace of pardon,
I muſt away this night toward Padua,
And it is meete I preſently ſet forth.

Duke. I am ſorry that your leyſure ſerues you not.
Anthonio, gratiſe this gentleman,
For in my minde you are much bound to him.

Exit Duke and his traine.

Baff. Moſt worthy gentleman, I and my friend
Haue by your wifedome bene this day acquited
Of greeuous penalties, in lew whereof,
Three thouſand ducats due vnto the Iew,
We freely cope your courteous paines withall.

Ant. And ſtand indebted ouer and aboue
In loue and ſeruice to you euermore.

Por. He is well paid, that is well ſatisfied,
And I deliuering you, am ſatisfied,
And therein do account my ſelſe well paid,
My minde was neuer yet more mercinary.
I pray you know me when we meete againe,
I wifh you well, and so I take my leaue.

12

Baff.

The Comical History of

Baff. Deere fir, of force I muſt attempt you further,
Take ſome remembrance of vs as a tribute,
Not as a fee: grant me two things I pray you,
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.

Por. You preſſe me farre, and therefore I will yeeld,
Giuſe me your gloues, ile weare them for your ſake,
And for your loue, ile take this ring from you.
Do not draw backe your hand, ile take no more,
And you in loue ſhall not deny me this.

Baff. This Ring good fir, alas it is a trifle,
I will not ſhame my ſelfe to giue you this.

Por. I will haue nothing else but onely this,
And now methinkes I haue a minde to it.

Baff. There's more then this depends vpon the valew:
The deareſt Ring in Venice I will giue you,
And finde it out by Proclamation,
Onely for this I pray you pardon mee?

Por. I fee fir you are liberall in offers,
You taught me firſt to begge, and now me thinkes
You teach me how a begger ſhould be anſwer'd.

Baff. Good fir, this Ring was giuen me by my wife,
And when ſhe put it on, ſhe made me vow,
That I ſhould neither ſell, nor giue, nor looſe it.

Por. That ſcuse ſerues many men to ſaue their giftes,
And if your wife be not a mad woman,
And know how well I haue deferu'd the Ring,
She would not hold out enemy for euer,
For giuing it to me : well, peace bee with you.

Exeunt

An. My Lord Baffanio, let him haue the Ring,
Let his deferuings and my loue withall,
Be valew'd gainſt your wiues commandement.

Baff. Go Gratiano, runne and ouertake him,
Giuſe him the Ring, and bring him if thou canſt
Vnto Anthonios houſe, away, make haſt.

Exeunt Gratiano.

Come

the Merchant of Venice.

Come you and I will thither prefently,
And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont, come Anthonio.

Enter Nerriffa.

Exeunt.

Por. Enquire the Iewes houſe out, giue him this deede,
And let him ſigne it, wee'l away to night,
And be a day before our husbands home:
This deede will be well welcome to Lorenzo.

Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Faire fir, you are well ore-tane,
My Lord Baffanio vpon more aduice,
Hath ſent you heere this Ring, and doth intreate
Your company at dinner.

Por. That cannot be,
This Ring I do accept moſt thankefully,
And so I pray you tell him. Furthermore,
I pray you ſhew my youth old Shylockes houſe.

Gra. That will I do.

Ner. Sir, I would ſpeake with you.
Ile fee if I can get my husbands Ring,
Which I did make him ſware to keepe for euer.

Por. Thou maiſt I warrant, we shall haue old ſwearing
That they did giue the Rings away to men,
But weele out-face them, and out-ſware them too,
Away, make haſt, thou know'ſt where I will tarry.

Ner. Come good fir, will you ſhew me to this houſe?

Enter Lorenzo and Iefſica.

Lor. The Moone ſhines bright.
In ſuch a night as this,
When the ſweet winde did gently kiffle the Trees,

And

13

## The Comical History of

And they did make no noyſe, in ſuch a night,
*Troylus* me-thinks mounted the Troyan wals,
And ſigh'd his ſoule toward the Grecian Tents
Where *Cressada* lay that night,

*Iefſica*. In ſuch a night

Did *Thisbie* fearfully ore-trip the dew,
And ſaw the *Lyons* ſhadow ere himselfe,
And ranne dismayed away.

*Loren*. In ſuch a night

Stood *Dido* with a willow in her hand
Vpon the wilde ſea banks, and waſt her Loue

To come againe to *Carthage*.

*Iefſica*. In ſuch a night,

*Medea* gathered the enchanted hearbs
That did renew old *Eſon*.

*Loren*. In ſuch a night

Did *Iefſica* ſteale from the wealthy Iew,
And with an vnthrift loue did runne from Venice,
As farre as Belmont.

*Iefſica*. In ſuch a night

Did young *Lorenzo* ſware he loued her well,
Stealing her ſoule with many vowes of faith,
And nere a true one.

*Loren*. In ſuch a night

Did pretty *Iefſica* (like a little ſhrew)

Slander her Loue, and he forgaue it her.

*Iefſica*. I would out-night you did nobody come :

But hearke, I heare the footing of a man.

*Enter a Messenger.*

*Loren*. Who comes so faſt in ſilence of the night?

*Messen*. A friend.

*Loren*. A friend, what friend, your name I pray you friend.

*Messen*. *Stephano* is my name, and I bring word

My miſtris will before the breake of day

Bee

## the Merchant of Venice.

Be heere at *Belmont*, ſhe doth ſtray about
By holy croſſes where ſhe kneeles and prayes.
For happy wedlocke houres.

*Loren*. Who comes with her?

*Messen*. None but a holy Hermit and her maid:
I pray you is my Maſter yet return'd?

*Loren*. He is not, nor we haue not heard from him,
But goe we in I pray thee *Iefſica*,

And ceremoniouſly let vs prepare

Some welcome for the Miſtris of the houſe.

*Enter Clowne.*

*Clowne*. *Sola, Sola*: wo ha, ho *sola, sola*.

*Loren*. Who calles?

*Clown*. *Sola*, did you ſee M. *Lorenzo*, M. *Lorenzo*, *sola, sola*.

*Loren*. Leaue hollowing man, heere.

*Clown*. *Sola*, where, where?

*Loren*. Heere.

*Clown*. Tell him there's a Poſt come from my Maſter, with his horne full of good newes, my Maſter will be heere ere morning, I sweete ſoule.

*Loren*. Let's in, and there expeſt their comming,
And yet no matter ; why ſhould we go in ?

*My friend* *Stephano*, *ſignifie* I pray you
Within the houſe, your miſtris is at hand,

And bring your muſicke ſoorth into the ayre.

How sweete the Moone-light ſleepes vpon this banke,
Heere will we fit, and let the ſounds of muſicke

Creepe in our eares ſoft ſtilneſſe, and the night

Become the tuches of ſiueſte harmony :

Sit *Iefſica*, looke how the floore of heauen

Is thicke inlayed with pattens of bright gold,

There's not the ſmallest orbe which thou beholdst,

But in his motion like an Angell ſings,

Still quiring to the young eide Cherubins;

Such

The Comical History of

Such harmony is in immortal foules,
But whilft this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossely clothe in it, we cannot heare it.
Come hoe, and wake Diana with him a hymne,
With sweeteft touches pierce your misfris eare,
And draw her home with Muficke.

Muficke playes.

Ies. I am neuer merry, when I heare sweete Mufick.

Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
For, do but note a wilde and wanton heard,
Or race of youthfull and vnhandled Colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing lowd,
Which is the hot condition of their blood,
If they perchance but heare a Trumpet found,
Or any aire of muſicke touch their eares,
You ſhall perceiue them make a mutuall ſtand,
Their ſauage eies turn'd to a modest gaze,
By the sweete power of muſicke. Therefore the Poet
Did faire that Orpheus drew trees, ſtones, and floods.
Since nought ſo ſtockiſh hard and full of rage,
But muſicke for the time doth change his nature:
The man that hath no muſicke in himsſelfe,
Nor is not moou'd with concord of sweete ſounds,
Is fit for treaſons, ſtratagems, and ſpoyles,
The motions of his iſpirit are dull as night,
and his affections darke as Terebus :
Let no ſuch man be trusted. Marke the Muſicke.

Enter Nerriffa and Portia.

Por. That light we fee is burning in my hall:
How farre that little candle throwes his beames,
So ſhines a good deede in a naughty world.
Ner. When the Moone ſhone we did not fee the candle.
Por. So doth the greater glory dim the leſſe.
A ſubſitute ſhines brightly as a King,

Vntill

the Merchant of Venice.

Vntill a King be by, and then his state
Empties it ſelfe, as doth an in-land brooke
Into the maine of waters: Muſicke, harke.
Ner. It is your muſicke Madam of the house.
Por. Nothing is good I fee without respect,
Methinkes it ſounds much sweeter then by day.
Ner. Silence beſtowes that vertue on it Madam.
Por. The Crow doth ſing as sweetly as the Larke,
When neither is attended: and I thinke
The Nightingale if she should ſing by day
When euery Goofe is cackling, would be thought
No better a Muſitian then the Wren.
How many things by ſeason, ſeason'd are
To their right prais'd, and true perſection.
Peace, how the Moone ſleepes with Endimion,
And would not be awak'd.

Lor. That is the voice,
Or I am much deceu'd of Portia.

Por. He knowes me as the blinde man knowes
The Cucko, by the bad voyce.
Lor. Deere Lady, welcome home.
Por. We haue bin praying for our husband health,
Which ſpeed we hope the better for our words.
Are they return'd?

Loren. Madam, they are not yet:
But there is come a Meſsenger before,
To ſignifie their comming.

Por. Go in Nerriffa,
Giue order to my ſeruants, that they take
No note at all of our being absent hence,
Nor you Lorenzo, Jeſſica nor you.

Lor. Your husband is at hand, I heare his Trumpet,
We are no tell-tales Madame, ſcare you not.

Por. This night me thinkes is but the day light ſicke,
It lookes a little paler, tis a day,
Such as the day is when the Sunne is hid,

K

Enter

The Comical History of

Enter Baffanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their
followers.

Baff. We should hold day with the Antipodes,
If you would walk in absence of the sunne.

Por. Let me giue light, but let me not be light,
For a light wife doth make a heavy husband,
And neuer be Baffanio so for me,
But God fort all : yare welcome home my Lords.

Baff. I thank you Madame, giue welcome to my friend,
This is the man, this is Anthonio,
To whom I am so infinitely bound.

Por. You should in all fence be much bound to him,
For as I heare, he was much bound for you.

Ant. No more then I am well acquitted of.

Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house,
It must appeare in other wayes then words,
Therefore I cant this breathing curtesie.

Gra. By wonder Moone I fweare you do me wrong,
Infaith I gaue it to the Iudges Clarke,
Would he were gelt that had it for my part,
Since you do take it (Loue) so much at hart.

Por. A quarrell hoe already, what's the matter ?

Gra. About a hoope of gold, a paltry ring
That she did giue me, whose poeie was
For all the world like Cutlers poetry

Vpon a knife, Lone me, and leaue me not.

Ner. What talke you of the poeie or the value ;
You fwere to me when I did giue it you,

That you would weare it till your houre of death,
And that it should lye with you in your graue,

Though not for me, yet for your vehement oathes,
You should haue beene respective, and haue kept it.

Gae it a Iudges Clarke; no God's my Iudge,

The Clarke will nere weare haire on's face that had it.

Gra.

the Merchant of Venice.

Gra. He will, and if he liue to be a man.

Ner. I, if a woman liue to be a man.

Gra. Now by this hand I gaue it to a youth,
A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy,

No higher then thy selfe, the Iudges Clarke,
A prating boy that begd it as a fee,

I could not for my heart deny it him.

Por. You were too blame, I must be plaine with you,
To part so flightly with your wiues firſt gift,
A thing ſtucke on with oaths vpon your ſinger,
And so riueted with faith vnto your ſlesh.

I gaue my Loue a ring, and made him ſweare
Neuer to part with it, and heere he stands ;

I dare be ſworne for him he would not leaue it,
Nor plucke it from his ſinger, for the wealth

That the world maſters. Now in faith Gratiano,
You give your wife too vnkinde a cauſe of greeſe,
And twere to me I should be mad at it.

Baff. Why I were beſt to cut my left hand off,
And ſweare I loft the Ring defending it.

Gra. My Lord Baffanio gaue his ring away
Vnto the Iudge that begd it; and indeed
Deferu'd it to: and then the boy his Clarke
That tooke ſome paines in writing, he begd mine,
And neither man nor maſter would take ought
But the two rings.

Por. What ring gaue you my Lord?
Not that I hope which you rceiu'd of me.

Baff. If I could adde a lye vnto a fault,
I would deny it : but you ſee my ſinger
Hath not the ring vpon it, it is gone.

Por. Euen ſo void is your falſe heart of truth.
By heauen I will nere come in your bed,
Vntill I ſee the ring.

Ner. Nor I in yours,
Till I againe ſee mine.

K 2

Baff.

The Comicall History of

Baff. Sweet Portia,

If you did know to whom I gaue the Ring,
If you did know for whom I gaue the Ring,
And would conceiue for what I gaue the Ring,
And how vnwillingly I left the Ring,
When nought would be accepted but the Ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure,
Por. If you had knowne the vertue of the Ring,
Of halfe her worthinesse that gaue the Ring,
Or your owne honor to containe the Ring,
You would not then haue parted with the Ring,
What man is there so much vnreasonable,
If you had pleasd to haue defended it
With any termes of zeale, wanted the modefly
To vrge the thing held as a ceremony?

Neriffa teaches me what to beleeue,
Ile die for't, but some woman had the Ring,
Baff. No by my honor Madam, by my foule
No woman had it, but a ciuill Doctor,
Which did refuse three thousand Ducates of me,
And begd the Ring, the which I did deny him,
And suffer'd him to go away displeasd,
Euen he that did vphold the very life
Of my deere friend. What should I say sweet Lady?
I was enforc'd to send it after him:
I was befet with ſhame and courtesie,
My honour would not let ingratitude
So much befmeare it. Pardon me good Lady,
For by the ſe blessed Candles of the night,
Had you bene there, I thinke you would haue begd
The Ring of me, to giue the worthy Doctor.

Por. Let not that Doctor ere come neere my house,
Since he hath got the iewell that I loued,
And that which you did ſweare to keepe for me,
I will become as liberall as you,
Ile not deny him any thing I haue,

No,

the Merchant of Venice.

No, not my bodie, nor my husbands bed :
Know him I shall, I am well ſure of it.
Lye not a night from home : watch me like Argos,
If you do not, if I be left alone,
Now by mine honor, which is yet mine owne,
Ile haue that Doctor for my bed-fellow.

Ner. And I his Clarke : therefore be well aduised
How you do leaue me to mine owne protection.

Gra. Well do you so : let not me take him then,
For if I do, Ile marre the yong Clarkes pen.

An. I am th'v'nappy ſubieſt of theſe quarrels.

Por. Sir, greeue not you, you are welcome notwithstanding.

Baff. Portia, forgiue me this enforced wrong,
Aud in the hearing of theſe many friends
I ſweare to thee, euen by thine owne faire eyes,
Wherein I see my ſelfe.

Por. Marke you but that.
In both my eyes he doubly ſees himselfe :
In each eye one, ſweare by your double ſelfe,
And there's an oath of credite.

Baf. Nay, but heare me,
Pardon this fault, and by my ſoule I ſweare,
I neuer more will breake an oath with thee.

An. I once did lend my body for his wealth,
Which but for him that had your husband Ring,
Had quite miſcarried. I dare be bound againe,
My ſoule vpon the forſet, that your Lord
Will neuer more breake faith aduisedly.

Por. Then you ſhall be his ſurety; giue him this,
And bid him keepe it better then the other.

An. Heere Lord Baffanio, ſweare to keepe this Ring.

Baf. By heauen it is the fame I gaue the Doctor.

Por. I had it of him; pardon me Baffanio,
For by this ring the Doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me my gentle Gratiano,
For that fame ſcrubbed boy the Doctors Clarke,

K3

In

The Comical History of

In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.

Gra. Why this is like the mending of high wayes
In summer, where the wayes are faire enough.

What, are we Cuckolds ere we haue deferu'd it?

Por. Speake not so grossely, you are all amaz'd;
Heere is a Letter, reade it at your leifure,
It comes from Padua from Bellario.

There you shall finde that Portia was the Doctor,
Neriffa there her Clarke, Lorenzo heere

Shall witenffe I seft foorth as soone as you,

And euen but now return'd; I haue not yet

Entred my houſe. Anthonio, you are welcome,

And I haue better newes in ſtore for you

Then you expect; vnſeale this letter soone,

There you shall finde three of your Argosies

Are richly come to harbour ſodainly.

You shall not know by what ſtrange accident

I chanced on this Letter.

Ant. I am dumbe.

Baſſ. Were you the Doctor, and I knew you not ?

Gra. Were you the Clarke that is to make me Cuckold?

Ner. I, but the Clarke that neuer meanes to do it,

Vnleſſe he liue vntill he be a man.

Baſſ. (Sweete Doctor) you shall be my bed-fellow,
When I am absent, then lie with my wife.

An. Sweet Lady, you haue giuen me life and liuing ;

For heere I reade for certaine, that my Ships

Are safely come to Rode.

Por. How now Lorenzo,
My Clarke hath some good comforts too for you.

Ner. I, and ile giue them him without a fee,
There do I giue to you and Ieffica.

From the rich Iew, a ſpeciall deed of gift

After his death, of all he dies poſſeſt off.

Loren. Faire Ladies, you drop Manna in the way
Of ſtarued people.

Por.

the Merchant of Venice.

Por. It is almost morning,
And yet I me sure you are not ſatisfied
Of these euents at full. Let's go in,
And charge vs there vpon intergotories,
And we will anſwer all things faithfully.

Gra. Let it be so, the firſt intergotory
That my Nerriffa ſhall be ſworne on, is,
Whether till the next night ſhe had rather ſtay,
Or go to bed now, being two hours to day :
But were the day come, I ſhould wifh it darke,
That I were couching with the Clarke.
Well, while I liue, ile ſeare no other thing
So ſore, as keeping ſafe Nerriffas Ring.

Exeunt.

FINS.