THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. ACT I. SCENE I. Venice. A Street. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO.' And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, In the old copies there is much confusion in the printing of these names, especially in this first scene; and as no list of the Persons is there given, we are not a little puzzled how to put them. In the folio the first stage-direction is,- Enter Antonic, Salarino, and Salanio. In the dialogue, however, the abbrevia tion for Salanio presently becomes Sola., which is soon changed to Sol., and then comes the stage-direction, - Exeunt Salarino, and Solanio. And the names are spelt the same way in several other stage-directions; and after the first scene the abbreviated prefixes to the speeches uniformly are Sal. and Sol. So that we have abundant authority for reading Solanio instead of Salanio, as it is in most modern editions. As to the distribution of the first few speeches, we have to go partly by conjecture, the names being so perplexed as to afford no sure guidance. The last two speechos before the entrance of Bassanio, which are usually assigned to Solanio, we agree with Knight and Verplanck in transferring to Salarino, not only because he is the more lively and talkative person, but as according best with the general course of the dialogue and with his avowed wish to make Antonio merry, and especially because the quartos favor that arrangement. H. Sal. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; There, where your argosies with portly sail,— That courtesy to them, do them reverence, I should be still Sal. My wind, cooling my broth, Would blow me to an ague, when I thought What harm a wind too great might do at sea. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, But I should think of shallows and of flats; And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs, 3 To kiss her burial. Should I go to church, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, 2 Argosies are large ships either for merchandise or for war The name was probably derived from the classical ship Argo, which carried Jason and the Argonauts in quest of the golden fleece. Readers of Milton will of course remember the passage describing Satan's voyage through chaos: 64 Harder beset And more endanger'd than when Argo pass'd Through Bosphorus betwixt the justling rocks." H. To rail is to lower, to let fall: from the French avaler. The Venetian merchants, it would seem, were much used to name their ships for Andrew Doria, the great admiral. H Would scatter all her spices on the stream; And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought To think on this; and shall I lack the thought, That such a thing bechanc'd would make me sad? But, tell not me: I know Antonio Is sad to think upon his merchandise. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate Upon the fortune of this present year: Therefore, my merchandise makes me not sad. Sal. Why, then, you are in love. Ant. Sal. Not in love neither? are sad, Fie, fie! Then let's say, you Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easy For you to laugh, and leap, and say you are merry: Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time : Some that will evermore peep through their eyes, And laugh, like parrots at a bag-piper; And other of such vinegar aspect, That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. man, Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare well: ye We leave you now with better company. Sal. I would have stay'd till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own business calls on you, And you embrace the occasion to depart. Sal. Good morrow, my good lords. Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh' You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so? We two will leave you; but at dinner time, Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano; A stage, where every man must play a part. And mine a sad one. Gra. Let me play the fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come And let my liver rather heat with wine, Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice And do a wilful stillness entertain, With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion As who snould say, "I am Sir Oracle, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!" 4 For saying nothing; when, I am very sure, If they should speak, would almost damn those ears, Come, good Lorenzo. — Fare ye well, awhile: Lor. Well, we will leave you, then, till dinnertime. I must be one of these same dumb wise men, Gra. Well, keep me company but two years more, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear.* Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for silence is only commendable The All the old copies read when here; and as in such cases the Poet often leaves the subject of a verb understood, the changing of when into who, though common, is hardly admissible. The following lines apparently refer to the judgment pronounced in the Gospel against him who "says to his brother, Thou fool." ineaning, therefore, is, that if those who "only are reputed wise for saying nothing" should go to talking, they would be apt to damn their hearers, by provoking them to utter this foul reproach Fool-gudgeon, a little below, appears to mean such a fish as any fool might catch, or none but fools would care to catch. Gudgeon was the name of a small fish very easily caught. The expression is commonly, but injuriously, changed to fool's-gudgeon. Gear, from the Anglo-Saxon gearwe, and originally meaning any thing prepared or made ready, was formerly used for any matter or business in hand. Thus, in an old ballad, entitled The Merry Puck, or Robin Goodfellow : "Now Robin Goodfellow, being plae'd with a tailor, as you heare He grew a workman in short space, so well he ply'd his geare." H |