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LOR.- Well, we will leave you then till dinner time.
GRA.— Well, keep me company but two years more,
Ant.— Farewell; I'll grow a talker for this gear.
GRA.— Thanks, i’faith; for silence is only commendable In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
Exeunt GRATIANO AND LORENZO.
ANT.-Is that anything now?
Bass.—Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing,
Ant.— Well, tell me now, what lady is this same,
BASS.—'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
my faint means would grant continuance,
love I have a warranty To unburthen all my plots and purposes, How to get clear of all the debts I owe.
Ant.— I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it;
Bass.-In my school days, when I had lost one shaft,
Ant.—You know me well; and herein spend but time
Bass.—In Belmont is a lady richly left,
quest of her.
For the four winds blow in from every coast
Jasons come in
Ant.—Thou knowest that all my fortunes are at sea;
LXXXIX.-SCENES FROM THE MERCHANT OF
SCENE II.—Belmont. A Room in Portia's House.
Enter PORTIA AND NERISSA.
Por.—By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world.
NER.—You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are ; and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, pronounced.
therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner
Por.—Good sentences and well
Por.-If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions. I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done than be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree; such a hare is madness, the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel, the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband. O me! the word choose ! I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none?
NER.—Your father was ever virtuous; and holy men at their death have good inspirations; therefore, the lottery that he hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead (whereof who chooses his meaning, chooses you), will, no doubt, never be chosen by any rightly, but one whom you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in
affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?
Por.—I pray thee overname them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them; and according to my description,
affection. NER.–First, there is the Neapolitan prince.
Por.—Ay, that's a colt. indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse; and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts, that he can shoe him himself; I am much afraid he would house me in a smithy.
level at my
He is every
NER.—Then, is there the county Palatine.
Por.—He doth nothing but frown; as who should say, “ An you will not have me, choose :" he hears merry
tales and smiles not; I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher, when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, than to either of these. God defend me from these two !
NER.-How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon ? PoR.—God made him, and therefore let him pass
In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker ; but, he ! why he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan’s; a better bad habit of frowning than the count Palatine. man in no man: if a throstle sing, he falls straight a capering; he will fence with his own shadow.
If I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands. If he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if he love me to madness, I shall never requite him.
NER.—What say you tnen to Faulconbridge, the young baron of England ?
Por.—You know I say nothing to him, for he i nderstands not me nor I him; he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you will come into the court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man's picture; but, alas! who can converse with a dumb show ? how oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round-hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behavior everywhere.
NER.–What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbor ?
Por.—That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for he borrowed a box of the ear, of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again when he was able. I think the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another.