LORENZO, in love with Jessica. SHYLOCK, a rich Jew. TUBAL, a Jew, his Friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a Clown, Servant to Shylock. OLD GOBBO, Father to Launcelot. LEONARDO, Servant to Bassanio. PORTIA, a rich Heiress. NERISSA, her Waiting-maid. JESSICA, Daughter to Shylock. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants to Portia, and other Attendants. SCENE Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on the Continent. THE MERCHANT OF ACT I SCENE I.-Venice. A Street. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SALANIO. Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad : But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; That court'sy to them, do them reverence, As they fly by them with their woven wings. Salan. Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Salar. To kiss her burial. Should I go to church And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, Is sad to think upon his merchandise. Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. Ant. Fie, fie! Salar. Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad, 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 : And other of such vinegar aspect That they'll not show their teeth in way of smile, Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman, Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare ye well : We leave you now with better company. Salar. I would have stay'd till I had made you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? say, when? You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? Salar. We'll make our leisures to attend on yours. Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO. Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, We two will leave you; but at dinner-time, I pray you, have in mind where we must meet. Gra. You look not well, Signior Antonio; Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd. 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. |