The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare

And speak, between the change of man and boy,
With a reed voice; and turn two mincing steps
Into a manly stride; and speak of frays,
Like a fine bragging youth and tell quaint lies,
How honourable ladies sought my love,
Which I denying, they fell sick and died;
I could not do with all ;-then I'll repent,
And wish, for all that, that I had not kill'd them
And twenty of these puny lies I'll tell,
That men shall swear, I have discontinued
school

Above a twelvemonth :-I have within my mind
A thousand raw tricks of these bragging Jacks,
Which I will practise.

Ner. Why, shall we turn to men?
Por. Fie! what a question's that,
If thou wert near a lewd interpreter ?
But come, I'll tell thee all my whole device
When I am in my coach, which stays for us
At the park gate; and therefore haste away,
For we must measure twenty miles to-day.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-The same.-A Garden.

Enter LAUNCELOT and JESSICA. Laun. Yes, truly :-for, look you, the sins of the father are to be laid upon the children; I was therefore, I promise you, I fear you. always plain with you, and so now I speak my agitation of the matter: Therefore, be of good cheer; for, truly, I think, you are damn'd. There is but one hope in it that can do you any good; and that is but a kind of bastard hope neither.

Jes. And what hope is that, I pray thee?

Laun. Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not, that you are not the Jew's daughter.

Jes. That were a kind of bastard hope, indeed; so the sins of my mother should be visited upon me.

Laun. Truly then I fear you are damn'd both by father and mother: thus when I shun Scyila, your father, I fall into Charybdis, your mother well, you are gone both ways.

Jes. I shall be saved by my husband; he hath made me a Christian.

Laun. Truly the more to blame he: we were Christians enough before; e'en as many as could well live, one by another: This making of Christians will raise the price of hogs; if we grow all to be pork-eaters, we shall not shortly have a rasher on the coals for money.

Enter LORENZO.

Jes. I'll tell my husband, Launcelot, what you say; here he comes.

Lor. I shall grow jealous of you shortly, Launcelot, if you thus get my wife into corners. Jes. Nay, you need not fear us, Lorenzo; Launcelot and I are out: he tells me flatly, there is no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter: and he says you are no good member of the commonwealth; for, in convert ing Jews to Christians, you raise the price of pork. Lor. I shall answer that better to the commonwealth, than you can the getting up of the negro's belly: the Moor is with child by you, Launcelot,

Laun. It is inuch, that the Moor should be more than reason: but if she be less than an honest woman, she is, indeed, more than I took her for.

Lor. How every fool can play upon the word! I think, the best grace of wit will shortly turn into silence; and discourse grow commendable in none only but parrots.-Go in, sirrah; bid them prepare for dinner.

Laun. That is done, Sir; they have all stomachs.

Lor. Goodly lord, what a wit-snapper are you! then bid them prepare dinner.

Laun. That is done too, Sir; only, cover is the word.

Lor. Will you cover then, Sir?

Laun. Not so, Sir, neither; I know my duty. Lor. Yet more quarrelling with occasion! Wilt thou show the whole wealth of thy wit in an instant? I pray thee, understand a plain man in his plain meaning: go to thy fellows; bid them cover the table, serve in the meat, and we will come in to dinner.

Laun. For the table, Sir, it shall be served in; for the meat, Sir, it shall be covered: for your coming in to dinner, Sir, why, let it be as humours and conceits shall govern. [Exit LAUNCELOT. Lor. O dear discretion, how his words are suited !

The fool hath planted in his memory
An army of good words; And I do know
A many fools, that stand in better place,
Garnish'd like him, that for a tricksy word
Defy the matter. How cheer'st thou, Jessica ?
And now, good sweet, say thy opinion,
How dost thou like the lord Bassanio's wife?
Jes. Past all expressing: It is very meet,
The lord Bassanio live an upright life;
For, having such a blessing in his lady,
He finds the joys of heaven here on earth:
And, if on earth he do not mean it, it
Is reason he should never come to beaven.
Why, if two gods should play some heavenly
match,
And on the wager lay two earthly women,
And Portia one, there must be something else
Pawn'd with the other; for the poor rude world
Hath not her fellow.

Lor. Even such a husband
Hast thou of me, as she is for a wife.

Jes. Nay, but ask my opinion too of that.
Lor. I will anon; first, let us go to dinner.
Jes. Nay, let me praise you, while I have a
stomach.

Lor. No, pray thee, let it serve for table-
talk;
Then howsoe'er thou speak'st, 'mong other
things
I shall digest it.

Jes. Well, I'll set you forth.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Venice.-A Court of Justice.
Enter the DUKE, the Magnificoes, ANTONIO,
BASSANIO, GRATIANO, SALARINO, SALANIO,
and others.

Duke. What, is Antonio here?
Ant. Ready, so please your grace.
Duke. I am sorry for thee; thou art come
to answer

A stony adversary, au inhuman wretch
Uncapable of pity, void and empty
From any dram of mercy.

Ant. I have heard,
Your grace hath ta'en great pains to qualify
but since he stands ob-
His rigorous course :

durate,

And that no lawful means can carry me
Out of his envy's reach, I do oppose
My patience to his fury; and am arm'd
To suffer with a quietness of spirit,
The very tyranny and rage of his.

Duke. Go one, and call the Jew into the
court.

Salan. He's ready at the door: he comes, my lord.

Thou'lt show thy mercy, and remorse, more strange

Than is thy strange apparent cruelty:
And where toou now exact'st the penalty,
(Which is a pound of this poor merchant's
flesh,)

Thou wilt not only loose the forfeiture,
But, touch'd with human gentleness and love,
Forgive a moiety of the principal;
Glancing an eye of pity on his losses,
That have of late so huddled on his back;
Enough to press a royal merchant down,
And pluck commiseration of his state
From brassy bosoms, and rough hearts of flint,
From stubborn Turks and Tartars, never train'd
To offices of tender courtesy.

We all expect a gentle answer, Jew.

Shy. What judgment shall I dread, doing no wrong?

You have among you many a purchas'd slave, Which, like your asses, and your dogs, and mules,

You use in abject and in slavish parts,
Because you bought them :-Shall I say to you,
Let them be free, marry them to your heirs?
Why sweat they under burdens? let their beds
Be made as soft as your's, and let their palates
Be season'd with such viands? You will an.
swer,

The slaves are our's :-So do I answer you :
The pound of flesh, which I demand of him,
Is dearly bought, is mine, and I will have it:
If you deny me, fie upou your law!
There is no force in the decrees of Venice;

Shy. I have possess'd your grace of what I stand for judgment: answer; shall I have it?

purpose;

And by our holy Sabbath have I sworn,
To have the due and forfeit of my bond:
If you deny it, let the danger light
Upon your charter, and your city's freedom.
You'll ask me, why I rather choose to have
A weight of carrion flesh, than to receive
Three thousand ducats: I'll not answer that:
But say, it is my humour: Is it answer'd?
What if my house be troubled with a rat,
And I be pleas'd to give ten thousand ducats
To have it baned? What, are you answer'd yet?
Some men there are, love not a gaping pig;
Some, that are mad, if they behold a cat ;
And others, when the bagpipe sings i'the nose,
Cannot contain their urine; For affection, ||
Mistress of passion, sways it to the mood
Of what it likes, or loaths: Now, for your an-

swer:

As there is no firm reason to be render'd,
Why he cannot abide a gaping ¶ pig;
Why he, a harmless necessary cat;
Why he, a swollen bagpipe; but of force
Must yield to such inevitable shame,
As to offend, bimself being offended;
So can I give no reason, nor I will not,
More than a lodg'd hate, and a certain loathing,
I bear Antonio, that I follow thus

A losing suit against him. Are you answer'd?
Bass. This is no answer, thou unfeeling man,
To excuse the current of thy cruelty.

Shy. I am not bound to please thee with my

answer.

You may as well go stand upon the beach,
And bid the main flood bate bis usual height;
You may as well use question with the wolf,
Why he hath made the ewe bleat for the lamb;
You may as well forbid the mountain pines
To wag their high tops, and to make no noise,
When they are fretted with the gusts of heaven;
You may as well do any thing most hard,
As seek to soften that (than which what's
harder?)

His Jewish heart :-Therefore, I do beseech you,
Make no more offers, use no further ineaus,
But, with all brief and plain conveniency,
Let the have judgment, and the Jew bis will.
Bass. For thy three thousand ducats here is

six.

Sky. If every ducat in six thousand ducats, Were in six parts, and every part a ducat, I would not draw them, I would have my bond. Duke. How shalt thou hope for mercy, reu d'ring none?

Duke. Upon my power, I may dismiss this

Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.
Ant. I am a tainted wether of the flock,
Meetest for death; the weakest kind of fruit
Drops earliest to the ground, and so let me :
You cannot better be employ'd, Bassanio,
Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.
Enter NERISSA, dressed like a lawyer's clerk.
Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
Ner. From both, my lord: Bellario greets
[Presents a letter.
Bass. Why dost thou whet tby knife so ear-
nestly?

your grace.

Shy. To cut the forfeiture from that bankrupt there.

Gra. Not on thy sole, but on thy soul, harsh Jew,

Thou mak'st thy knife keen: but no metal can, No, not the hangman's ax, bear half the keen

ness

Of thy sharp envy. Can no prayers pierce thee? Shy. No, none that thou hast wit enough to

make.

Gra. Oh! be thou damn'd, inexorable dog!
And for thy life let justice be accus'd.
Thou almost mak'st me waver in my faith,
To hold opinion with Pythagoras,
That souls of animals infuse themselves
Into the trunks of men: thy currish spirit,
Govern'd a wolf; who, hang'd for human
slaughter,

Even from the gallows did his fel! soul fleet,
And, while thou lay'st in thy unhallow'd dam,
Infus'd itself in thee; for thy desires
Are wolfish, bloody, starv'd, and ravenons.

Shy. 'Till thou can'st rail the seal from off my

bond,

Thon but offend'st thy lungs to speak so loud:
Repair thy wit, good youth, or it will fall
To cureless ruin.-I stand here for law.

Duke. This letter from Bellario doth com

Go, give him courteous conduct to this place.Mean time, the court shall hear Bellario's letter. [Clerk, reads.] Your grace shall understand, that, at the receipt of your letter, I am very sick: but in the instant that your mes•

Por. It must not be; there is no power in
[Venice.
Can alter a decree established:
Twill be recorded for a precedent;
And many an error, by the same example,
Will rush into the state: it cannot be.
Shy. A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a
Daniel!-

senger came, in loving visitation was with
me a young doctor of Rome, his name is Bul-
thasar: I acquainted him with the cause in
controversy between the Jew and Antonio the
merchant: we turned o'er many books toge-
ther: he is furnish'd with my opinion; which
better'd with his own learning, (the great-
ness whereof I cannot enough commend,)O
comes with him, at my importunity, to fill up
I beseech
your grace's request in my stead.
you, let this lack of years be no impediment
to let him lack a reverend estimation; for I
never knew so young a body with so old a
head. I leave him to your gracious accep-
tance, whose trial shall better publish his
commendation.

Duke. You hear the learn'd Bellario, what he
writes:

wise young judge, how do I honour thee!
Por. I pray you, let me look upon the bond.
Shy. Here 'tis, most reverend doctor, here it is.
Por. Shylock, there's thrice thy money offer'd
thee.

Shy. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in
heaven:

Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?
No, not for Venice.

Por. Why, this bond is forfeit ;
And lawfully, by this, the Jew may claim
A pound of Besh, to be by him cut off
Nearest the merchant's heart :-Be merciful;
Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.
Shy. When it is paid according to the tenor.—
Bel-It doth appear, you are a worthy judge;

And here, I take it, is the doctor come.-
Enter PORTIA, dressed like a Doctor of laws.
Give me your hand: Came you from old

lario?

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 informed throughly of the cause,
Which is the merchant here? and which the Jew?
Duke. Antonio and old Shylock both stand
forth.

Por. Is your name Shylock?

Shy. Shylock is my name.

Por. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow;
Yet in such rule, that the Venetian law
Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed.-
You stand within his danger, do you not?
[TO ANTONIO.

Aut. Ay, so he says.

Por. Do you confess the bond?
Ant. I do.

Por. Then must the Jew be merciful.

Shy. On what compulsion must I? tell me

that.

Por. The quality of mercy is not strain'd;
It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath it is twice bless'd;
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes:
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than bis crown:
His sceptre shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings:
But mercy is above this sceptred sway,
It is enthroned in the hearts of kings,
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew,
Though justice be thy plea, consider this,-
That, in the course of justice, none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much,
To mitigate the justice of thy plea;
Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice
Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant

there.

Shy. My deeds upon my head! I crave the The penalty and forfeit of my bond.

[law,

Por. Is he not able to discharge the money?
Bass. Yes, here I tender it for him in the

court;

Yea, twice the sum: if that will not suffice,
I will be bound to pay it ten times o'er,
On forfeit of my bands, my head, my heart:
If this will not suffice, it must appear
That malice bears down truth. And I beseech

you,

Wrest once the law to your authority:
To do a great right, do a little wrong;
And curb this cruel devil of his wi!!.

• Reach or controul,

You know the law, your exposition
Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law,
Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear,
There is no power in the tongue of man
To alter me: I stay here on my bond.

Ant. Most heartily I do beseech the court
To give the judgment.

Por. Why then, thus it is,

You must prepare your bosom for his knife:
Shy. O noble judge! O excellent young man !
Por. For the intent and purpose of the law
Hath full relation to the penalty,
Which here appeareth due upon the bond.
Shy. 'Tis very true; O wise and upright
judge!

How much more elder art thou than thy looks!
Por. Therefore, lay bare your bosom.

Shy. Ay, his breast:

So says the bond;-Doth it not, noble judge?-
Nearest his heart, those are the very words.

Por. It is so. Are there balance here, to weigh
The flesh.

Shy. I have them ready.

Por. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your

charge,

To stop his wounds, lest be do bleed to death.
Shy. Is it so nominated in the bond?
Por. It is not so express'd; But what of that?
"Twere good you do so much for charity.

Shy. I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond.
Por. Come, merchant, have you any thing to
say?

Ant. But little; I am arm'd, and well pre-
par'd.-

Give me your band, Bassanio; fare you well!
Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you;
For herein fortune shows herself more kind
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
Than is her custom: it is still her use,
To view with hollow eye, and wrinkled brow,
An age of poverty; from which lingering pe-
[nance
Of such a misery doth she cut me off.
Commend me to your honourable wife :
Tell her the process of Antonio's end,
Say, how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death;
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge,"
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent not you that you shall lose your friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt;
For, if the Jew do but cut deep enough,
I'll pay it instantly, with all my heart.

Bass. Antonio, I am married to a wife,
Which is as dear to me as life itself;
But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
Are not with me esteem'd above thy life:
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
Here to this devil, to deliver you.

Por. Your wife would give you little thanks
for that,

If she were by to hear you make the offer.

Ꮌ Ꮮ

Gra. I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love; I would she were in heaven, so she could Entreat some power to change this currish Jew. Ner. 'Tis well you offer it behind her back; The wish would make else an unquiet house. Shy. These be the Christian husbands: I have a daughter

"Would, any of the stock of Barrabas Had been her husband, rather than a Christian! [Aside.

We triße time; I pray thee, pursue sentence. Por. A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine;

The court awards it, and the law doth give it.
Shy. Most rightful judge!

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

The law allows it, and the court awards it. Shy. Most learned judge!-A sentence; come, prepare.

Por. Tarry a little ;-there is something else.This bond doth give thee here no jot of blood; The words expressly are, a pound of flesh : Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound flesh;

But, in the cutting it, if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and
goods

Are, by the laws of Venice, confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.

Gra. O upright judge!-Mark, Jew ;-0 learned judge!

Shy. Is that the law?

Por. Thyself shalt see the act:

For, as thon urgest justice, be assur'd,

Thou shalt have justice more than thou desir'st. Gra. O learned judge !-Mark, Jew;-a learned judge!

Shy. I take this offer then ;-pay the bond thrice,

And let the Christian go.

Bass. Here is the money.
Por. Soft!

[haste ;The Jew shall have all justice ;-soft!-no He shall have nothing but the penalty.

Gra. O Jew! an upright judge, a learned judge!

Por. Therefore, prepare thee to cut off the flesh.

Shed thou no blood; nor cut thou less, nor

more,

But just a pound of flesh if thou tak'st more,
Or less, than a just pound,-be it but so much
As makes it light, or heavy, in the substance,
Or the division of the twentieth part

Of one poor scruple; nay, if the scale do turn
But in the estimation of a hair,-
Thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate.
Gra. A second Daniel, a Daniel, Jew!
Now, infidel, I have thee on the hip.

Por. Why doth the Jew pause? take the forfeiture.

In which predicament, I say, thou stand'st:
For it appears by manifest proceeding,
That indirectly, and directly too,
Thou hast contriv'd against the very life
Of the defendant; and thou hast incurr'd
The dauger formerly by nie rehears'd.
Down, therefore, and beg mercy of the duke.
Gra. Beg, that thou may'st have leave to bang

Shy. Give me my principal, and let me go. Bass. I have it ready for thee; here it is. Por. He hath refus'd it in the open court; He shall have merely justice and his bond. Gra. A Daniel, still say I; a second Daniel !I thank thee, Jew, for teaching me that word. Shy. Shall I not have barely my principal? Por. Thou shalt have nothing but the forfei

ture

To be so taken at thy peril, Jew.

thyself:

And yet, thy wealth being forfeit to the state, Thou hast not left the value of a cord: Therefore, thou must be hang'd at the state's charge.

Duke. That thou shalt see the difference of our spirit,

I pardon thee thy life before thou ask it :
For half thy wealth, it is Antonio's;
The other half comes to the general state,
Which humbleness may drive unto a fine.

Por. Ay, for the state; not for Autovio.
Shy. Nay, take my life and all, pardon not

that:

You take my house, when you do take the prop That doth sustain my house; you take my life, When you do take the means whereby I live.

Por. What mercy can you render him, Au

tonio?

Gra. A halter gratis; nothing else; for God's sake.

Ant. So please my lord the duke, and all the court,

To quit the fine for one half of his goods;

I am content, so he will let me have
The other half in use,-to render it,
Upon his death, unto the gentleman
That lately stole his daughter:
Two things provided more,-That, for this fa-
vour,

He presently become a Christian;
The other, that he do record a gift,
Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd,
Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.

Duke. He shall do this; or else I do recant
The pardon, that I late pronounced here.
Por. Art thou contented, Jew, what dost
thou say?

Shy. I am content.

Por. Clerk, draw a deed of gift,

Shy. I pray you, give me leave to go from

heuce;

I am not well; send the deed after me,

And I will sign it.

Duke. Get thee gone, but do it.

Gra. In christening thou shalt have two godfathers;

Had I been judge, thou should'st have had ten

more.

To bring thee to the gailows, not the font.

[Erit SHYLOCK.

Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner.

Por. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon; I must away this night toward Padua, And it is meet, I presently set forth.

Duke. I am sorry, that your leisure serves you not.

Antonio, gratify this gentleman;
For, in my mind, you are much bound to him.

[Exeunt DUKE, Magnificoes, and Train. Bass. Most worthy gentleman, I and my

friend,

Have, by your wisdom, been this day acquitted

Shy. Why then the devil give him good of it! Of grievous penalties; in lieu whereof,

Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew,
We freely cope your courteous pains withal.
Ant. And stand indebted, over and above,

In love and service to you evermore.

Por. He is well paid, that is well satisfied;
And I, delivering you, am satisfied,
And therein do account myself well paid;
My mind was never yet more mercenary.

I pray you, know me, when we meet again;

I wish you well, and so I take my leave. Bass. Dear Sir, of force I must attempt you further;

Take some remembrance of us, as a tribute, Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you,

Not to deny me, and to pardon me.

Por. You press me far, and therefore I will yield.

Give me your gloves, I'll wear them for your sake;

And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you :

Do not draw back your hand; I'll take no

more;

And you in love shall not deny me this.

Bass. This ring, good Sir,-alas, it is a trifle, I will not shame myself to give you this.

Por. I will have nothing else but only this; And now, methinks, I have a mind to it.

Bass. There's more depends on this, than on the value.

The dearest ring in Venice will I give you,
And find it out by proclamation;
Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.

Por. I see, Sir, you are liberal in offers:
You taught me first to beg; and now, methinks,
You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.
Bass. Good Sir, this ring was given me by
my wife;

And, when she put it on, she made me vow, That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it. Por. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts.

And if your wife be not a mad woman,
And know how well I have deserv'd this ring,
She would not hold out enemy for ever,
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
[Exeunt PORTIA and NERISSA.
Ant. My lord Bassanio, let him have the
ring;

Let his deservings, and my love withal,
Be valued 'gainst your wife's commandment.
Bass. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him,
Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou
can'st,

Unto Antonio's house :-away, make haste.
[Exit GRATIANO.
Come, you and I will thither presently;
And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont: Come, Antonio.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same.-A Street.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA.

ACT V

SCENE I.-Belmont.-Avenue to PORTIA
House.

Enter LORENZO and JESSICA.
Lor. The moon shines bright-In such a
night as this,

When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees,
And they did make no noise; in such a night,
Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan walls,
And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents,
Where Cressid lay that night.

Jes. In such a night,

Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,
And ran dismay'd away.

Lor. In such a night,

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea-banks, and way'd her love
To come again to Carthage.

Jes. In such a night,

Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs
That did renew old son.

Lor. In such a night,

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew:
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice
As far as Belmont.

Jes. And in such a night,

Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well;
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

Lor. And in such a night,

Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love and he forgave it her.
Jes. I would out-night you, did no body

My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.

Lor. Who comes with her?
Steph. None, but a holy
maid.

hermit, and her

Por. Inquire the Jew's house out, give him I pray you, is my master yet return'd?

this deed,

And let him sign it; we'll away to-night, And be a day before our husbands home: This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.

Enter GRATIANO.

Gra. Fair Sir, you are well overtaken : My lord Bassanio, upon more advice, * Hath sent you here this ring, and doth entreat Your company at dinner.

Por. That cannot be :

This ring I do accept most thankfully,
And so, I pray you, tell him: Furthermore,

I pray you, show my youth old Shylock's house.

Gra. That will I do.

Ner. Sir, I would speak with you :I'll see if I can get my husband's ring,

[TO PORTIA. Which I did make him swear to keep for ever. Por. Thou may'st, I warrant: We shall have old swearing,

That they did give the rings away to men ;
But we'll outface them, and outswear them too.
Away, make baste; thou know'st where I will
tarry.

Ner. Come, good Sir, will you show me to
this house?
[Exeunt.

• Reflection.

Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news; my [Exit. master will be here ere morning.

Lor. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming.

And yet no matter;-Why should we go in?
My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand;
And bring your music forth into the air.-
[Exit STEPHANO.
the moonlight sleeps upon this
How sweet
bank!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night,
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica: Look, how the floor of heaven

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Books

The Dramatic Works of William Shakspeare, Band 9