For giving it to me. Well, peace be with you!
[Exit with Neriffa.
Ant. My lord Baffanio, let him have the ring.
Let his defervings, and my love withal,
Be valu'd 'gainst your wife's commandment.

Baff. Go, Gratiano, run and overtake him,
Give him the ring; and bring him if thou can'ft,
Unto Anthonio's houfe: away, make hafte. [Exit Gra.
Come, you and I will thither presently;
And in the morning early will we both
Fly toward Belmont; come, Anthonio.

Re-enter Portia and Neriffa.

[Exeunt.

Por. Enquire the Jew's houfe out, give him this Deed, And let him fign 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 Bafanio, upon more advice,
Hath fent you here this ring, and doth intreat
Your company at dinner.

Por. That cannot be.

This ring I do accept moft thankfully,
And fo, I pray you, tell him; furthermore,
I pray you, fhew my youth old Shylock's houfe.
Gra. That will I do.

Ner. Sir, I would fpeak with you.

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

Which I did make him fwear to keep for ever.

[To Por.

Por.Thou may'ft, Iwarrant. We fhall have old fwearing,

That they did give the rings away to men;
But we'll out-face them, and out-swear them too:
Away, make hafte, thou know'ft where I will tarry,

Ner. Come, good Sir, will you fhew me to this house F

[Exeunt.

ACT

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

T

Enter Lorenzo and Jeffica.

LORENZO.

HE moon fhines bright: in fuch a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kifs the trees, And they did make no noise; in fuch a night, Troilus, methinks, mounted the Trojan wall; And figh'd his foul toward the Grecian tents, Where Crefid lay that night.

Jef. In fuch a night,

Did Thisbe fearfully o'er-trip the dew;
And faw the lion's fhadow ere himself,

And ran difmayed away.

Lor. In fuch a night,

Stood Dido with a willow in her hand

Upon the wild fea-banks, and wav'd her love

To come again to Carthage.

Jef. In fuch a night,

Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs,

That did renew old Æfon.

Lor. In fuch a night,

Did Jeffica fteal from the wealthy Jew,

And with an unthrift love did run from Venice,
As far as Belmont.

Jef. And in fuch a night,

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

Lor. And in fuch a night,

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

fe. 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 filence of the night?
Mef. A friend.

Lor. What friend? your name, I pray you, friend?
Mef. Stephano is my name, and I bring word,
My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont : fhe doth ftray about
By holy croffes, where the kneels, and prays,
For happy wedlock hours.

Lor. Who comes with her?

Mef. None, but a holy hermit, and her maid, I pray you, is my mafter yet return'd?

Lor. He is not, nor have we yet heard from him : But go we in, I pray thee, Jefica,

And ceremoniously let us prepare

Some welcome for the miftrefs of the house.

Enter Launcelot.

Laun. Sola, fola; wo ha, ho; fola, fola!

Lor. Who calls?

Laun. Sola! did you fee mafter Lorenzo and miftrefs Lorenza? fola, fola!

Lor. Leave hollowing, man: here.

Laun. Sola! where? where?

Lor. Here.

Laun. Tell him, there's a poft come from my mafter, with his horn full of good news. My mafter 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, fignify, I pray you, Within the house, your mistress is at hand;

[Exit Stephano.

And bring your mufick forth into the air.
How fweet the moon-light fleeps upon this bank!
Here will we fit, and let the founds of mufick
Creep in our ears; foft ftillness, and the night

Become

Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jeffica: look, how the floor of heav'n
Is thick inlay'd with patterns of bright gold;
There's not the fmalleft orb, which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel fings,
Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubims;
Such harmony is in immortal founds! (31)
But whilft this muddy vefture 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 mufick.

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

[Mufick.

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

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, (Which is the hot condition of their blood)

If they perchance but hear a trumpet found,
Or any air of mufick touch their ears,

You fhall perceive them make a mutual stand;
Their favage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,

By the fweet power of mufick. Therefore, the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, ftones, and foods;
Since nought fo stockish, hard and full of rage,

(31) Such barmony is in immortal fouls;] But the harmony here defcribed is that of the spheres, fo much celebrated by the antients. He fays, the fmalleft orb fings like an angel; and then fubjoins, such barmony is in immortal fouls: but the harmony of angels is not here meant, but of the orbs. Nor are we to think, that here the poet alludes to the notion, that each orb has its intelligence or angel to direct it; for then with no propriety could he fay, the orb fung like an angel: he should rather have said, the angel in the orb fung. We must therefore correct the line thus;

Such harmony is in immorta! founds :

i. e. in the mufick of the fpheres. Mr. Warburton.

Macrobius, I remember, accounts for our not hearing that musick, which is produc'd by the conftant volubility of the heavens, from the organs in the human ear not being capable, thro' their ftraitness, of admitting fo vehement a found. Muficam perpetua coeli volubilitate nafcentem ideo claro non fentimus auditu, quia major fonus eft quam ut bumanarum aurium recipiatur anguftiis.

But

But mufick for the time doth change his nature,
The man that hath no mufick in himself,

Nor is not mov'd with concord of fweet founds,
Is fit for treafons, ftratagems, and fpoils;
The motions of his fpirit are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:

Let no fuch man be trufted- -Mark the mufick.

Enter Portia and Neriffa.

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

So fhines a good deed in a naughty world.

Ner. When the moon fhone, we did not fee the candle. Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less; A fubftitute shines brightly as a King, Until a King be by; and then his ftate Empties itself, as doth an inland brook Into the main of waters. Musick, hark!

[Mufick.

Ner. It is the mufick, madam, of your house.
Por. Nothing is good, I fee, without refpect:
Methinks, it founds much sweeter than by day,

Ner. Silence bestows the virtue on it, madam.
Por. The crow doth fing as fweetly as the lark,
When neither is attended; and, I think,
The nightingale, if the fhould fing by day,
When every goofe is cackling, would be thought
No better a mufician than the wren.
How many things by feason season'd are
To their right praife, and true perfection?
Peace! how the moon fleeps 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 cuckow,

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