Laun. I beseech you, Sir, go; my young mafter doth expect your reproach. Shy. So do I his. Laun. And they have confpired together, I will not fay, you shall fee a mafk; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nofe fell a bleeding on black monday laft, at fix a-clock i'th' morning, falling out that year on Afh-Wednesday was four in the afternoon. Shy. What are there mafks? hear you me, Jeffica. Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile fqueaking of the wry-neck'd fife, Clamber not you up to the cafements then, Nor thrust your head into the publick street, To gaze on chriftian fools with varnish'd faces: But stop my houfe's ears; I mean, my cafements; Let not the found of fhallow foppery enter My fober houfe. By Jacob's ftaff, I fwear, I have no mind of feafting forth to-night: But I will go; go you before me, firrah: Say, I will come. Laun. I will go before, Sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this; Will be worth a Jewess' eye. 1 [Exit Laun Shy. What fays that fool of Hagar's offspring? ha? Jef. His words were, farewel, miftrefs; nothing else. Shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder: Snail-flow in profit, but he fleeps by day More than the wild cat; drones hive not with me, Shut the doors after you; faft bind, faft find; A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind. [Exit. Jef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft, I have a father, you a daughter lost. [Exit. SCENE, Gra. SCENE, the Street. Enter Gratiano and Salanio in maskerade. TH HIS is the pent-houfe, under which Lorenzo defired us to make a stand. Sal. His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pigeons fly (12) Gra. That ever holds. Who rifeth from a feast, The fkarfed bark puts from her native bay, (12) 0, ten times fafter Venus' Pigeons fly] This is a very odd image, of Venus's pigeons flying to feal the bonds of love. The fenfe is obvious, and we know the dignity due to Venus's pigeons. There was certainly a joke intended here, which the ignorance or boldness, of the first tranfcribers have murder'd: I doubt not, but Sbak:fpeare wrote the line thus ; O, ten times fafter Venus' widgeons fly The For widgeon is not only the filly bird fo call'd, but fignifies likewise, metaphorically, a filly fellow, as goofe, or gudgeon, does now. joke confifts in the ambiguity of the fignification, and to call the votaries of love Venus's widgeons has, I think, fomething very pretty. But the tranfcribers finding widgeon in the text, and knowing nothing of its figurative fignification, fubftituted pigcon as a more ufual, or (perhaps, better founding) word. Butler has made the very fame joke upon the prefbyterians. Canto ift. pt. 1. v. 231. Th' apoftles of this fierce religion, Like Mahomet's were afs, and widgeon. The monks, in their fabulous account of Mahomet, faid, he taught a pigeon to pick peas out of his ear for the ends of his impofture. Mr. Warburton. With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails, Enter Lorenzo. Sal. Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter. Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode ; Not I, but my affairs have made you wait; When you fhall please to play the thieves for wives, I'll watch as long for you then; come, approach; Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within ? Jeffica above, in boy's cloaths. Jef. Who are you? tell me for more certainty, Albeit I'll fwear, that I do know your tongue. Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love. Jef. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed; For who love I fo much? and now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness, that thou art. Lor. Defcend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Lor. So are you, fweet, Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy. But come at once For the clofe night doth play the run-away, Jef. I will make fat the doors, and gild myfelf [Ex. from above. Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew. Lor. Lor. Befhrew me, but I love her heartily; Enter Jeffica, to them. What, art thou come on, gentlemen, away; Anth. Fie, Grationo, where are all the reft ? I have fent twenty out to feek for you. SCENE changes to Belmont. [Exit. [Exeunt. Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains. Por. G The fev'ral cafkets to this noble Prince. Now make your choice. [Three Cafkets are difcovered. Mor. The first of gold, which this infcription bears, Who chufeth me, fall gain what many men defire. The fecond filver, which this promife carries, Who chufeth me, shall get as much as he deferves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all he hath. How fhall I know, if I do chufe the right? Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; If you chufe that, then I am yours withal. Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me fee, I will furvey the infcriptions back again : What fays this leaden casket? Who Who chufeth me must give and hazard all he hath. A golden mind ftoops not to fhows of drofs; As much as I deferve? -why, that's the lady: One of these three contains her heav'nly picture. Was fet in worse than gold! they have in England A |