The Merchant of Venice (Quarto 1, 1600)
Not Peer Reviewed
1280
Enter Bassanio, Portia, Gratiano, and all
¶their traynes.
¶Before you hazard, for in choosing wrong
¶I loose your companie; therefore forbeare a while,
1285Theres something tells me (but it is not loue)
¶And yet a mayden hath no tongue, but thought,
1290I would detaine you heere some moneth 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 if mine then yours,
1300puts barres betweene the ovvners and their rights,
¶Let Fortune goe to hell for it, not I.
¶I speake too long, but tis to peize the time,
¶To ech it, and to draw it out in length,
1305To stay you from election.
¶For as I am, I liue vpon the racke.
¶vvhich makes me feare th'inioying of my Loue,
¶There may as well be amity and life
1320O happy torment, when my torturer
¶doth teach me aunsweres for deliuerance:
¶But let me to my fortune and the caskets.
¶Portia. 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,
1330and watry death-bed for him: he may win,
¶to a new crowned Monarch: Such it is,
1335That creepe into the dreaming bride-groomes eare,
¶And summon him to marriage. Now he goes
¶Then young Alcides, when he did redeeme
¶The virgine tribute, payed by howling Troy
¶With bleared visages come forth to view
¶Liue thou, I liue with much much more dismay,
1345I view the fight, then thou that mak'st the fray.
¶
A Song the whilst Bassanio comments on the caskets
¶to himselfe.
¶
Tell me where is fancie bred,
¶Or in the hart, or in the head,1350How begot, how nourished? Replie, replie.
¶It is engendred in the eye,¶With gazing fed, and Fancie dies:¶In the cradle where it lies¶Let vs all ring Fancies knell.1355Ile begin it.¶Ding, dong, bell.
¶The world is still deceau'd with ornament
1360In Law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
1365Hiding the grosnes with faire ornament:
¶Some marke of vertue on his outward parts;
1370The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars,
¶To render them redoubted. Looke on beauty,
1375vvhich therein works a miracle in nature,
1380To be the dowry of a second head,
¶The scull that bred them in the Sepulcher.
¶Thus ornament is but the guiled shore
¶vailing an Indian beauty; In a word,
1385The 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
¶tweene man and man: but thou, thou meager lead
¶thy palenes moues me more then eloquence,
¶O loue be moderate, allay thy extasie,
¶for feare I surfeit.
1400Bas. What finde I heere?
¶Faire Portias counterfeit. What demy God
¶Or whither riding on the balls of mine
¶the Paynter playes the Spyder, and hath wouen
¶a golden mesh tyntrap the harts of men
¶faster then gnats in cobwebs, but her eyes
1410how could he see to doe them? hauing made one,
¶the continent and summarie of my fortune.
¶
You that choose not by the view
¶Chaunce as faire, and choose as true:
¶Since this fortune falls to you,
1420Be content, and seeke no new.
¶If you be well pleasd with this,
¶Turne you where your Lady is,
¶And claime her with a louing kis.
1425A gentle scroule: Faire Lady, by your leaue,
¶I come by note to giue, and to receaue,
¶Like one of two contending in a prize
¶That thinks he hath done well in peoples eyes:
¶As doubtfull whether what I see be true,
¶Vntill confirmd, signd, ratified by you.
¶I would not be ambitious in my wish
¶I would be trebled twentie times my selfe,
¶more rich, that onely to stand high in your account,
¶I might in vertues, beauties, liuings, friends
¶exceede account: but the full summe of me
¶but she may learne: happier then this,
1450commits 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
1455Queene ore my selfe: and euen now, but now,
¶are yours, my Lords, I giue them with this ring,
¶let it presage the ruine of your loue,
1460and be my vantage to exclaime on you.
¶Bass. Maddam, you haue bereft me of all words,
¶onely my blood speakes to you in my vaines,
1465by a beloued Prince, there doth appeare
¶among the buzzing pleased multitude.
¶Where euery somthing beeing blent together,
¶turnes to a wild of nothing, saue of ioy
1470parts from this finger, then parts life from hence,
¶Ner. My Lord and Lady, it is now our time
¶to cry good ioy, good ioy my Lord and Lady.
¶and when your honours meane to solemnize
¶the bargaine of your fayth: I doe beseech you
1480euen at that time I may be married to.
¶My eyes my Lord can looke as swift as yours:
¶No more pertaines to me my lord then you;
¶and so did mine to as the matter falls:
¶for wooing heere vntill I swet againe,
1490and swearing till my very rough was dry
¶I got a promise of this faire one heere
¶to haue her loue: prouided that your fortune
¶atchiu'd her mistres.
¶Bass. And doe you Gratiano meane good fayth?
¶Gra. Yes faith my Lord.
¶But who comes heere? Lorenzo and his infidell?
¶vvhat, and my old Venecian friend Salerio?
1505
Enter Lorenzo, Iessica, and Salerio a messenger
¶from Venice.
¶Bassa. Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hether,
¶if that the youth of my newe intrest heere
¶haue power to bid you welcome: by your leaue
1510I bid my very friends and countrymen
¶sweet Portia welcome.
¶Por. So doe I my Lord, they are intirely welcome.
¶Lor. I thanke your honour, for my part my Lord
1515but meeting with Salerio by the way
¶to come with him along.
¶Sal. I did my Lord,
¶and I haue reason for it, Signior Anthonio
1520commends him to you.
¶Bass. Ere I ope his Letter
¶I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.
open the letter.
¶Your hand Salerio, what's the newes from Venice?
¶How doth that royall Merchant good Anthonio?
1530We are the Iasons, we haue wone the fleece.
¶Some deere friend dead, else nothing in the world
¶and I must freely haue the halfe of any thing
¶that this same paper brings you.
¶that euer blotted paper. Gentle Lady
¶when I did first impart my loue to you,
¶I freely told you all the wealth I had
1545ranne in my vaines, I was a gentleman,
¶and then I told you true: and yet deere Lady
¶how much I was a Braggart, when I told you
1550that I was 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 Lady,
¶the paper as the body of my friend,
1555and euery word in it a gaping wound
¶hath all his ventures faild, what not one hit,
¶from Tripolis, from Mexico and England,
¶from Lisbon, Barbary, and India,
¶of Merchant-marring rocks?
¶Sal. Not one my Lord.
1565hee would not take it: neuer did I know
¶a creature that did beare the shape of man
¶so keene and greedie to confound a man.
¶He plyes the Duke at morning and at night,
¶and doth impeach the freedome of the state
1570if they deny him iustice. Twentie Merchants,
¶the Duke himselfe, and the Magnificoes
¶but none can driue him from the enuious plea
¶of forfaiture, of iustice, and his bond.
¶to Tuball and to Chus, his country-men,
¶that he would rather haue Anthonios flesh
¶then twentie times the value of the summe
¶that he did owe him: and I know my lord,
1580if law, authoritie, and power denie not,
¶it will goe hard with poore Anthonio.
¶Por. Is it your deere friend that is thus in trouble?
1585in dooing curtesies: and one in whom
¶the auncient Romaine honour more appeares
¶then any that drawes breath in Italie.
¶before a friend of this discription
¶First goe with me to Church, and call me wife,
1595and then away to Venice to your friend:
¶to pay the petty debt twenty times ouer.
¶When it is payd, bring your true friend along,
¶vvill liue as maydes and widdowes; come away,
¶for you shall hence vpon your wedding day:
¶bid your freends welcome, show a merry cheere,
¶since you are deere bought, I will loue you deere.
1605But let me heare the letter of your friend.
¶
Sweet Bassanio, my ships haue all miscaried, my Creditors growe
¶
and I if I might but see you at my death: notwithstanding, vse your plea-
¶Bass. Since I haue your good leaue to goe away,
¶I will make hast; but till I come againe,
¶
Exeunt.
