The Merchant of Venice (Folio 1, 1623)
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174
The Merchant of Venice.
¶For as I am, I liue vpon the racke.
¶What treason there is mingled with your loue.
¶Which makes me feare the enioying of my loue:
¶There may as well be amitie and life,
1375Where men enforced doth speake any thing.
1380O happie torment, when my torturer
¶Doth teach me answers for deliuerance:
¶But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
¶Por. Away then, I am lockt in one of them,
¶If you doe loue me, you will finde me out.
¶Then if he loose he makes a Swan-like end,
1390And watrie death-bed for him: he may win,
¶To a new crowned Monarch: Such it is,
1395That creepe into the dreaming bride-groomes eare,
¶And summon him to marriage. Now he goes
¶Then yong Alcides, when he did redeeme
¶The virgine tribute, paied by howling Troy
¶The rest aloofe are the Dardanian wiues:
¶With bleared visages come forth to view
¶Liue thou, I liue with much more dismay
¶
Here Musicke.
¶
A Song the whilst Bassanio comments on the
¶
Tell me where is fancie bred,
1410 Or in the heart, or in the head:
¶ It is engendred in the eyes,
¶ With gazing fed, and Fancie dies,
¶ In the cradle where it lies:
1415 Let vs all ring Fancies knell.
¶Ile begin it.
¶ Ding, dong, bell.
1420The world is still deceiu'd with ornament.
¶In Law, what Plea so tanted and corrupt,
¶Some marke of vertue on his outward parts;
¶The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars,
¶Who inward searcht, haue lyuers white as milke,
¶To render them redoubted. Looke on beautie,
¶Which therein workes a miracle in nature,
¶Which makes such wanton gambols with the winde
¶To be the dowrie of a second head,
¶The scull that bred them in the Sepulcher.
¶Thus ornament is but the guiled shore
1445Vailing an Indian beautie; In a word,
¶The seeming truth which cunning times put on
¶Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee,
¶Nor none of thee thou pale and common drudge
1450'Tweene man and man: but thou, thou meager lead
¶O loue be moderate, allay thy extasie,
1460For feare I surfeit.
¶Bas. What finde I here?
¶Faire Portias counterfeit. What demie God
¶Or whether riding on the bals of mine
1465Seeme they in motion? Here are seuer'd lips
¶The Painter plaies the Spider, and hath wouen
¶A golden mesh t'intrap the hearts of men
1470Faster then gnats in cobwebs: but her eies,
¶How could he see to doe them? hauing made one,
¶The continent, and summarie of my fortune.
¶
You that choose not by the view
¶ Chance as faire, and choose as true:
1480 Since this fortune fals to you,
¶ Be content, and seeke no new.
¶ If you be well pleasd with this,
¶ Turne you where your Lady is,
¶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 eies:
So
