If you choose that wherein I am contain'd, Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd; But if you fail, without more speech, my Lord. You must be gone from hence immediately. Ar. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three things: First, never to unfold to any one Which casket 'twas I chose: next, if I fail swear, one doth That comes to hazard fo my worthless self. To my heart's hope! lead. Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath: You shall look fairer, ere I give, or hazard. What says the golden chest? ha! let me see: Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire. By the fool multitude, that choose by show, Builds in the weather on the outward wall, Tell me once more what title thou dost bear: Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he de serves; And well said too; For who shall go about To cozen fortune, and be honourable Without the stamp of merit! Let none presume O, that estates, degrees, and offices, honour and that clear Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer! Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times, serves: I will assume desert; Give me a key for this, And instantly unlock my fortunes here. Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there. Ar. What's here? the portrait of a blinking Presenting me a schedule? I will read it. How much unlike my hopes, and my deservings? Who chooseth me, shall have as much as he deserves. Did I deserve no more than a fool's head? Is that my prize? are my deserts no better? For. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices, And of opposed natures. Ar. What is here? • The The fire seven times tried this; Some there be, that shadows kiss; Still more fool I shall appear [Exeunt Arragon and train. Por. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. O these deliberate fools! when they do choose, They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. Ner. The ancient saying is no heresy; Hanging and wiving goes by destiny. Por, Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa. Entér a Servant. Serv. Where is my lady? Por. Here; what would my lord? To wit, besides commends, and courteous breath, A day in April-never came so sweet, VOL. IV. ་ 10 To show how costly summer was at hand, Por. No more, I pray thee; I am half afeard, Thou wilt say anon, he is some kin to thee, Thou spend'st such high day wit in praising him. Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see Quick Cupid's post, that comes so mannerly. ACT III, [Exeunt. SCENE I. Venice. A Street. Enter SALANIO and SALARINO. Salan. Now, what news on the Rialto? Salar. Why, yet it lives there uncheck'd, that Antonio hath a ship of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow seas; the Goodwins, I think they call the place; a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the carcases of many a tall ship lie buried, · as they say, if my gossip report be, an honest woman of her word. Salan. I would she were as lying a gossip in that, as ever knapp'd ginger, or made her neighbours believe she wept for the death of a third husband: But it is true, without any slips of prolixity, or crossing the plain highway of that the good Antonio, the honest Anto talk, 1 nio O that I had a title good enough to keep his name company! Salar. I would it might prove the end of his losses! Salan. Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil cross my prayer; for here he comes in the likeness of a Jew. How now, merchants? Enter SHYLOCK. among the Shy. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my daughter's flight. Salar. That's certain; I, for my part, knew the tailor that made the wings she flew withal. Salan. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the bird was fledg'd; and then it is the com plexion of them all to leave the dam. Shy. She is damn'd for it. Salar. That's certain, if the deyil may be her judge. Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel! Salan. Out upon it, old carrion! rebels it at these years? Shy. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. Salar. There is more difference between thy Alesh and hers, than between jet and ivory; more between your bloods, than there is between red wine and rhenish: But tell us, do you hear, whether Antonio have had any loss at sea or no? Shy, There I have another bad match: a bankrupt, a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Rialto; - a beggar, that used to come so |