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All that glifters is not gold;
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath fold,
But my outfide to behold.
Gilded wood may worms infold:
Had you been as wife as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been infcrol'd:
Fare you well; your fuit is cold.
Mor. Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewel, heat; and, welcome, froft:
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus lofers part.
Por. A gentle riddance: draw the curtains, go; Let all of his complexion choose me so!
Enter Solarino, and Salanio.
HY, man, I faw Bassanio under fail;
With him. is Gratiano gone along;
And in their fhip, I'm fure, Lorenzo is not.
Sola. The villain Jew with outcries rais'd the duke,
Who went with him to fearch Baffanio's fhip.
Sal. He came too late, the fhip was under fail;
But there the duke was giv'n to understand
That in a gondola were seen together
Lorenzo and his am'rous Jelica:
Befides, Anthonio certify'd the duke,
They were not with Baffanio in his fhip.
Sola. I never heard a paffion fo confus'd,
So ftrange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog few did utter in the streets:
My daughter! o my ducats! o my daughter!
Fled with a chriftian!o my chriftian ducats!
Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!
A fealed bag, two fealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats, ftol'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels, two ftones, rich and precious ftones,
Stol'n by my daughter! juftice! find the girl!
She hath the ftones upon her, and the ducats.
Sal. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,
Crying, his ftones, his daughter, and his ducats.
Sola. Let good Anthonio look he keep his day,
Or he shall pay for this.
Sal. Marry, well remember'd.
I reafon'd with a Frenchman yesterday,
Who told me, in the narrow feas that part
The French and English, there miscarried
A veffel of our country richly fraught:
I thought upon Anthonio when he told me,
And wifh'd in filence that it were not his.
Sola. You were best to tell Anthonio what you hear;
Yet do not fuddenly, for it may grieve him.
Sal. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth.
I saw Bassanio and Anthonio part.
Bassanio told him, he would make fome speed
Of his return: he answer'd, do not fo,
Slubber not business for my fake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time;
And for the Jew's bond which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind, of love:
Be merry, and employ your chiefeft thoughts
To courtship, and fuch fair oftents of love
As fhall conveniently become you there.
And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wond'rous fenfible
He wrung Baffanio's hand, and fo they parted.
Sola. I think, he only loves the world for him.
thee, let us go, and find him out,
And quicken his embraced heaviness
With fome delight or other.
Sal. Do we fo.
Enter Neriffa with a Servant.
UICK, quick, I pray thee, draw the curtain straight,
The prince of Arragon has ta'en his oath,
And comes to his election presently.
Enter Arragon, Portia, and their trains. Flor. Cornets. The cafkets are difcovered.
Por. Behold, there ftand the caskets, noble prince;
If choose that wherein I am contain'd,
Straight fhall our nuptial rites be folemniz'd :
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
You must be gone from hence immediately.
Ar. I am enjoin'd by oath t' obferve three things::
First, never to unfold to any one
Which casket 'twas I chofe; next, if I fail
Of the right casket, never in my life
To woo a maid in way of marriage;
Last, if I fail in fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave you and be gone.
Por. To thefe injunctions every one doth fwear
That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
Ar. And fo have I addrefs'd me: fortune now To my heart's hope! gold, filver, and base lead. Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath..
You fhall look fairer ere I give or hazard.
What fays the golden cheft? ha! let me fee:
Who choofeth me, fhall gain what many men defire.
What many men defire that may be meant
Of the full multitude that choose by fhow,
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
Which pries not to th' interior; like the martlet
Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Ev'n in the force and road of casualty.
I will not choose what many men defire,
Because I will not jump with common fpirits,
And rank me with the barb'rous multitudes.
Why, then to thee, thou filver treasurehouse:
Tell me once more, what title thou doft bear:
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves;
And well faid too, for who shall go about
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
Without the stamp of merit? let none prefume
To wear an undeserved dignity:
O, that estates, degrees, and offices,
Were not deriv'd corruptly! that clear honour.
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
How many then fhould cover, that ftand bare?
How many be commanded, that command?
How much low pleafantry would then be gleaned
From the true feed of honour? how much honour
Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be new varnish'd? Well, but to my choice:
Who choofeth me, fhall get as much as he deferves:
A key for this; will affume defert,
And inftantly unlock my fortunes here.
Por. Too long a paufe for that which you find there.
[unlocking the filver cafket. Ar. What's here! the portrait of a blinking idiot, Presenting me a schedule? I will read it: How much unlike art thou to Portia?
How much unlike my hopes and my defervings?
Who choofeth me, shall have as much as he deferves.
Did I deferve no more than a fool's head?
Is that my prize? are my deferts no better?
Por. To offend and judge are diftinct offices,
And of opposed natures.
The fire fev'n times tried this,
Seven times try'd that judgment is
That did never choofe amifs.
Some there be that shadows kifs,
Such have but a fhadows blifs :
There be fools alive, I wis,
Silver'd o'er, and fo was this:
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So be gone, fir, you are fped.
Ar. Still more fool I fhall appear
By the time I linger here:
With one fool's head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.
Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath,
Patiently to bear my wrath.
Por. Thus hath the candle fing'd the moth. O these deliberate fools! when they do choose, They have the wisdom by their wit to lofe. Ner. The ancient faying is no heresy: Hanging and wiving go by destiny.
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Neriffa.
Serv. Where is my lady?
Por. Here, what would my lord?
Serv. Madam, there is alighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before