My mind was never yet more mercenary.
I pray you, know me, when we meet again;
I wish you well, and so I take my leave.

Baf. Dear Sir, of force I must attempt you further.
Take some remembrance of us, for a tribute,
Not as a fee: grant me two things, I pray you,
Not to deny me, and to pardon me.

Par. You press me far, and therefore I will yield.
Give me your gloves, I'll wear 'em for your sake;
And, for your love, I'll take this ring from you.
Do not draw back your hand, I'll take no more;
And you
in love shall not deny me this.

Bag. This ring, good Sir, alas, it is a trifle;
I will not shame myself to give you this.

Par. I will have nothing else but only this, And now, methinks, I have a mind to it.

Bal. There's more depends on this, than is the value;
The dearest ring in Venice will I give you ;
And find it out by proclamation;
Only for this, I pray you, pardon me.

Par. I see, Sir, you are liberal in offers;
You taught me first to beg, and now, methinks,
You teach me how a beggar should be answer'd.

Ba. Good Sir, this ring was giv'n me by my wife.
And, when she put it on, she made me vow,
That I should neither sell, nor give, nor lose it.
Par. That 'scuse serves many men to save their gifts;
And if your wife be not a mad woman,

And know how well I have deserved the ring,
She would not hold out enmity for ever,
For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
[Exit with Nerissa.

Ant. My lord Bassanio, let him have the ring.
Let his deservings, and my love withal,
Be valued 'gainst your wise's commandment.

[Exit Gra.

Ba(s. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him,
Give him the ring; and bring him, if thou can'st,
Unto Anthanio's house: away, make haste.
Come, you and I will thither presently!
And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont; come, Anthonio.

Re-enter Portia and Nerifa.

[Exeunt

Por. Enquire the Jew's house out, give him this deed,

And

And let him sign it; we'll away to night,
And be a day before our husbands home :
This deed will be well welcome to Lorenzo.
Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Fair Sir, you are well o'erta'en:
My lord Bassanio, upon more advice,
Hath sent you here this ring, and doth intreat
Your company at dinner.

Por. That cannot be.

This ring I do accept most thankfully,

And so, I pray you, tell him; furthermore,
I pray you, show my Youth old Shylock's house.
Gra. That will I do.

Ner. Sir, I would speak with you.

I'll see if I can get my husband's ring:

[To Por.

We fhall have old.

Which I did make him swear to keep for ever.
Por. Thou may'ft, I warrant.

fwearing,

That they did give the rings away to men ;
But we'll out-face them, and out-swear them too :
Away, make haste, thou know'st where I will tarry.
Ner. Come, good Sir, will you show me to this
house?

[Exeunt

A CT V.

SCENE, Belmont. A Grove, or green Place,: before Portia's House.

T

Enter Lorenzo and Jessica.

Lorenzo.

HE moon shines bright: In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise; in such a night, Troylus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall ; And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Crefid lay that night.

Jes In such A night,

Did Thisbe searfully o'er trip the dew;
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself,

And

And ran dismayed away.

Lor. In such a night,

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand

Upon the wild sea banks, and wav'd her love
To come again to Carthage.

Jes. In such a night,

Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs,
That did renew old son.

Lor. In such a night,

Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew,
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.

Jes. And in such a night,

Did young Lorenzo swear, he lov'd her well;
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith,
And ne'er a true one.

Lor. And in such a night,

Did pretty Jessica, (like a little shrew)
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

Jes. I would out-night you, did no body come :
But hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter Stephano.

Lor. Who comes so fast, in silence of the night?
Mes. A friend.

Lor. What friend? your name, I pray you, friend?
Mes Stephano is my name, and I bring word,
My mistress will before the break of day

Be here at Belmont: she doth stray about

By holy crosses, where she kneels, and prays,
For happy wedlock, hours.

Lor. Who comes with her?

Mes. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid.

I pray you, is my master yet return'd ?

Lor. He is not, nor have we yet heard from him:

But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,

And ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

Enter Launcelot.

Laun. Sola, sola, wo ha, ho, sola, sola!

Lor. Who calls?

Laun. Sola! did you see master Lorenzo and mistress Lorenzo ? sola, sola I

Lor. Leave hollowing, man: here.

Laun.

Laun. Sola! where? where?

Lor. Here.

Laun. Tell him, there's a post come from my master, with his horn full of good news. My master will be here ere morning.

Lor. Sweet love, let's in, and there expect their

coming.

And yet no matter why should we go in ?
My friend Stephano, signifie, I pray you,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand;

[Exit Stephano.

And bring your musick forth into the air.
How sweet the moon-light sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit, and let the sounds of musick
Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, essica: look, how the floor of heav'n
Is thick inlay'd with patterns of bright gold;
There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims;
Such harmony is in immortal founds!
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay.
Doth grofly close us in, we cannot hear it.
Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with musick.

Jes. I'm never merry, when I hear sweet mufick.

Lor. The reason is, your spirits are attentive;
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

[Mufic

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
(Which is the hot condition of their blood)
If they perchance but hear a trumpet sound,
Or any air of musick touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand;
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,

By the sweet power of musick. Therefore, the Poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage,
But musick for the time doth change his nature.
The man that hath no musick in himself,

Nor

Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:

Let no such man be trusted- Mark the musick.
Enter Portia and Nerissa.

Por. That light we see, is burning in my hall:
How far that little candle throws his beams!

So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner. When the moon shone, we did not fee the candle.

Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less
A substitute fhines brightly as a king,
Until a king be by; and then his itate
Empties it self, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters. Musick, hark!

↓ [Musick

Ner. It is the musick, Madam, of your house.
Per, Nothing is good, I fee, without respect :
Methinks, it sounds much sweeter than by day.
Ner. Silence bestows the virtue on it, Madam.
Per. The crow doth sing as sweetly at the lark,
When neither is attended; and, I think,
The nightingale, if she should sing by day,
When every goose is cackling, would be thought
No better a musician than the wren.

How many things by season seasoned are
To their right praise, and true perfection?
Peace how the moon sleeps with Endimion,
And would not be awaked!

Lor. That is the voice,

Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

[Mufick.ceafes.

Por. He knows me, as the blind man knows the cuckoo,

By the bad voice.

Lor. Dear lady, welcome home.

Por. We have been praying for our husbands healths Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.

Are they return'd?

Lor. Madam, they are not yet;

But there is come a messenger before,
To signifie their coming.

Por. Go, Nerissa,

Give order to my servants, that they take