The Merchant of Venice (Folio 1, 1623)
Not Peer Reviewed
¶
Enter Bassanio, Portia, Gratiano, and all their traine.
¶Before you hazard, for in choosing wrong
¶I loose your companie; therefore forbeare a while,
1345There's something tels me (but it is not loue)
¶And yet a maiden hath no tongue, but thought,
1350I would detaine you here some month or two
¶Before you venture for me. I could teach you
¶They haue ore-lookt me and deuided me,
¶One halfe of me is yours, the other halfe yours,
¶Mine owne I would say: but of mine then yours,
1360Puts bars betweene the owners and their rights.
¶Let Fortune goe to hell for it, not I.
¶I speake too long, but 'tis to peize the time,
¶To ich it, and to draw it out in length,
1365To stay you from election.
¶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:
¶As doubtfull whether what I see be true,
1495Vntill confirm'd, sign'd, ratified by you.
¶Such as I am; though for my selfe alone
¶I would not be ambitious in my wish,
1500I would be trebled twenty times my selfe,
¶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
¶But she may learne: happier then this,
¶Commits it selfe to yours to be directed,
¶As from her Lord, her Gouernour, her King.
¶My selfe, and what is mine, to you and yours
¶Is now conuerted. But now I was the Lord
¶Queene ore my selfe: and euen now, but now,
¶Are yours, my Lord, I giue them with this ring,
¶Which when you part from, loose, or giue away,
1520Let it presage the ruine of your loue,
¶And be my vantage to exclaime on you.
¶Bass. Maddam, you haue bereft me of all words,
¶Onely my bloud speakes to you in my vaines,
¶By a beloued Prince, there doth appeare
¶Among the buzzing pleased multitude,
¶Where euery something being blent together,
¶Turnes to a wilde of nothing, saue of ioy
¶Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence,
¶Ner. My Lord and Lady, it is now our time
1535To cry good ioy, good ioy my Lord and Lady.
¶And when your Honours meane to solemnize
1540The bargaine of your faith: I doe beseech you
¶Euen at that time I may be married too.
¶My eyes my Lord can looke as swift as yours:
¶No more pertaines to me my Lord then you;
¶And so did mine too, as the matter falls:
1550For wooing heere vntill I swet againe,
¶And swearing till my very rough was dry
¶I got a promise of this faire one heere
¶To haue her loue: prouided that your fortune
¶Bass. And doe you Gratiano meane good faith?
¶Gra. Yes faith my Lord.
¶riage.
¶sand ducats.
¶downe.
¶But who comes heere? Lorenzo and his Infidell?
¶What and my old Venetian friend Salerio?
¶
Enter Lorenzo, Iessica, and Salerio.
1570Bas. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hether,
¶If that the youth of my new interest heere
¶Haue power to bid you welcome: by your leaue
¶I bid my verie friends and Countrimen
¶Sweet Portia welcome.
1575Por. So do I my Lord, they are intirely welcome.
¶Lor. I thanke your honor; for my part my Lord,
¶But meeting with Salerio by the way,
1580To come with him along.
¶Sal. I did my Lord,
¶And I haue reason for it, Signior Anthonio
¶Commends him to you.
¶Bass. Ere I ope his Letter
1585I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.
¶
Opens the Letter.
¶Your hand Salerio, what's the newes from Venice?
¶How doth that royal Merchant good Anthonio;
¶We are the Iasons, we haue won the fleece.
1595Sal. I would you had won the fleece that hee hath
¶lost.
¶Paper,
1600Some deere friend dead, else nothing in the world
¶And I must freely haue the halfe of any thing
1605That this same paper brings you.
¶That euer blotted paper. Gentle Ladie
¶When I did first impart my loue to you,
1610I freely told you all the wealth I had
¶Ran in my vaines: I was a Gentleman,
¶And then I told you true: and yet deere Ladie,
¶How much I was a Braggart, when I told you
¶That I vvas worse then nothing: for indeede
¶I haue ingag'd my selfe to a deere friend,
¶Ingag'd my friend to his meere enemie
¶To feede my meanes. Heere is a Letter Ladie,
1620The paper as the bodie of my friend,
¶And euerie word in it a gaping wound
¶Hath all his ventures faild, what not one hit,
¶From Tripolis, from Mexico and England,
1625From Lisbon, Barbary, and India,
¶Of Merchant-marring rocks?
¶Sal. Not one my Lord.
¶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 plyes the Duke at morning and at night,
1635And doth impeach the freedome of the state
¶If they deny him iustice. Twenty Merchants,
¶The Duke himselfe, and the Magnificoes
¶But none can driue him from the enuious plea
1640Of forfeiture, of iustice, and his bond.
¶To Tuball and to Chus, his Countri-men,
¶That he would rather haue Anthonio's flesh,
¶Then twenty times the value of the summe
1645That he did owe him: and I know my Lord,
¶If law, authoritie, and power denie not,
¶It will goe hard with poore Anthonio.
¶Por. Is it your deere friend that is thus in trouble?
¶In doing curtesies: and one in whom
¶The ancient Romane honour more appeares
¶Then any that drawes breath in Italie.
¶Por. What, no more?
¶Before a friend of this description
¶First goe with me to Church, and call me wife,
¶And then away to Venice to your friend:
1665To pay the petty debt twenty times ouer.
¶When it is payd, bring your true friend along,
¶Will liue as maids and widdowes; come away,
¶For you shall hence vpon your wedding day:
1670Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheere,
¶Since you are deere bought, I will loue you deere.
¶But let me heare the letter of your friend.
¶tors grow cruell, my estate is very low, my bond to the Iew is
¶debts are cleerd betweene you and I, if I might see you at my
¶perswade you to come, let not my letter.
1680Bass. Since I haue your good leaue to goe away,
¶I will make hast; but till I come againe,
Exeunt.
