Ros. By heaven you did; and to confirm it plainYou gave me this: but take it, sir, again. K. My faith, and this, the princess I did give: I knew her by this jewel on her sleeve. Prin. Pardon me, sir, this jewel did she wear; And lord Birón, I thank him, is my dear:What; will you have me, or your pearl again? Biron. Neither of either; I remit both twain. I see the trick on't;-Here was a consent,1 (Knowing aforehand of our merriment), To dash it like a Christmas comedy: [zany,2 Some carry-tale, some please-man, some slight Some mumble-mews, some trencher-knight, some Dick, That smiles his cheek in years; and knows the trick Biron. Go, bid them prepare. King. Birón, they will shame us, let them Biron. We are shame-proof, my lord; and 'tis some policy, To have one show worse than the king's and King. I say, they shall not come. [now; Bir. A right description of our sport, my lord. Arm. Anointed, I implore so much expense of thy royal sweet breath, as will utter a brace of words. To make my lady laugh, when she's dispos'd-When great things labouring perish in their And laugh upon the apple of her eye? Boyet. Enter Costard. Welcome, pure wit! thou partest a fair fray. No, sir; but it is vara fine, And three times thrice is nine. Cost. Not so, sir; under correction, sir; I hope, it is not so: You cannot beg us, sir, I can assure you, sir; we know what we know: Is not nine. I hope, sir, three times thrice, sir,- B. By Jove, I always took three threes for nine. Cost. O, sir, it were pity you should get your living by reckoning, sir. Biron. How much is it? Cost. O, sir, the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show whereuntil it doth amount: for my own part, I am, as they say, but to parfect one man,-e'en one poor man; Pompion, the great, sir. Biron. Art thou one of the worthies? Cost. It pleased them, to think me worthy of Pompion the great: for mine own part, I know not the degree of the worthy: but I am to stand for him. [Armado converses with the King, and de- That's all one, my fair, sweet, honey monarch: King. Here is like to be a good presence of worthies: He presents Hector of Troy; the swain, Pompey the great; the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page, Hercules; the pedant, Judas Machabæus: And if these four worthies in their first show Abate a throw at novum1; and the whole world [vein. Cannot pick out five such, take each one in his King. The ship is under sail, and here she comes amain. [Seats brought for the King, Princess, &c. Pageant of the Nine Worthies. Enter Costard arm'd for Pompey. Cost. I Pompey am, You lie, you are not he. Cost. I Pompey am, With libbard's 2 head on knee. C. I Pompey am, Pompey surnam'd the big,— Cost. It is great, sir;-Pompey surnam❜d the That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat: And, travelling along this coast, I here am come Prin. Great thanks, great Pompey. Cost. "Tis not so much worth; but, I hope, I was perfect: I made a little fault in great. Biron. My hat to a halfpenny, Pompey proves the best worthy. Enter Nathaniel arm'd, for Alexander. Nath. When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander, By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might: My 'scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander, Boyet. Your nose says, no, you are not; for it stands too right. [Alexander. P. The conqueror is dismay'd. Proceed, good B. Most true, 'tis right; you were so, Alisander. Cost. Cost. O, sir, [To Nath.] you have overthrown Alisander the conqueror! You will be scraped out of the painted cloth for this. A conqueror, and afear'd to speak! run away for shame, Alisander. [Nath. retires.] There, an't shall please you; a foolish mild man; an honest man, look you, and soon dash'd! He is a marvellous good neighbour, in sooth; and a very good bowler: but, for Alisander, alas, you see, how 'tis;-a little o'er-parted:-But there are worthies a-coming will speak their mind in some other sort. Prin. Stand aside, good Pompey. Enter Holofernes arm'd, and Moth arm'd, for Hercules. Boyet. A cittern head. Dum. The head of a bodkin. Biron. A death's face in a ring. L. The face of an old Roman coin, scarce seen. Boyet. The pummel of Cæsar's faulchion. Dum. The carv'd-bone face on a flask. Biron. St George's half-cheek in a brooch. Dum. Ay, in a brooch of lead. B. Ay, and worn in the cap of a tooth-drawer: And now, forward; for we have put thee in countenance. Hol. You have put me out of countenance. Biron. False; we have given thee faces. Hol. But you have out-fac'd them all. 1 Called. Biron. An thou wert a lion, we would do so. Boyet. Therefore, as he is, an ass, let him go. [Exit Holofernes. Enter Armado arm'd, for Hector. Biron. Hide thy head, Achilles; here comes Hector in arms. Dum. Though my mocks come home by me, I will now be merry. King. Hector was but a Trojan in respect of Boyet. But is this Hector? [this. D. I think, Hector was not so clean-timber'd. Long. His leg is too big for Hector. Dum. More calf, certain. Boyet. No; he is best indued in the small. Dum. He's a painter, for he makes faces. Dum. A gilt nutmeg. Long. Stuck with cloves. The armipotent Mars, of lances the mighty, That mint. Long. That columbine. Arm. Sweet lord Longaville, rein thy tongue. Long. I must rather give it the rein; for it runs against Hector. Dum. Ay, and Hector's a greyhound. Arm. The sweet war-man is dead; sweet chucks, beat not the bones of the buried: when he breath'd, he was a man.-But I will forward with my device: Sweet royalty, [To the Princess.] bestow on me the sense of hearing. [Bir. whispers Costard. P. Speak, brave Hector; we are much delighted. Arm. I do adore thy sweet grace's slipper. Boyet. Loves her by the foot. Arm. This Hector far surmounted Hannibal.C. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone. Arm. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates? thou shalt die. Cost. Then shall Hector be hanged, for Pompey that is dead by him. Dum. Most rare Pompey! Boyet. Renowned Pompey! Biron. Greater than great, great, great, great Pompey! Pompey the huge! Dum. Hector trembles. Biron. Pompey is moved.-More Ates,1 more Ates; stir them on! stir them on! Dum. Hector will challenge him. Biron. Ay, if he have no more man's blood in him than will sup a flea. Arm. By the north pole, I do challenge thee. Cos. I will not fight with a pole, like a northern man; I'll slash; I'll do it by the sword:-I pray you, let me borrow my arms again. Dum. Room for the incensed worthies. Dum. Most resolute Pompey. 1 The goddess of discord. Arm. Gentlemen and soldiers, pardon me; I will not combat in my shirt. Dum. You may not deny it, Pompey hath made the challenge. Arm. Sweet bloods, I both may and will. Biron. What reason have you for't? Arm. The naked truth of it is, I have no shirt, I go woolward for penance. Boyet. True, and it was enjoined him in Rome for want of linen, Enter Mercade. Mer. Heaven save you, madam! But that thou interrupt'st our merriment. Mer. Even so; my tale is told. B. Worthies, away; the scene begins to cloud. A. For mine own part, I breathe free breath; I have seen the day of wrong through the little hole of discretion, and I will right myself like a soldier. [Exeunt Worthies. King. How fares your majesty? Prin. Boyet, prepare; I will away to-night. King. Madam, not so; I do beseech you, stay. P. Prepare, I say.-I thank you,gracious lords, For all your fair endeavours; and entreat, Out of a new-sad soul, that you vouchsafe In your rich wisdom, to excuse or hide, The liberal1 opposition of our spirits: If over-boldly we have borne ourselves In the converse of breath, your gentleness Was guilty of it.-Farewell, worthy lord! A heavy heart bears not an humble tongue: Excuse me so, coming so short of thanks For my great suit so easily obtain'd. King. The extreme parts of time extremely Is not by much so wholesome, profitable, P. I understand you not, my griefs are double. Bir. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of grief: And by these badges understand the king. Hath much deform'd us,fashioning our humours 1 Excessive. Which party-coated presence of loose love P. We have receiv'd your letters, full of love; Ros. We did not quote1 them so. King. Now, at the latest minute of the hour, Grant us your loves. Prin. A time, methinks, too short Change not your offer made in heat of blood, King. If this, or more than this, I would deny, Dum. But what to me, my love? but what to me? K. A wife!-A beard, fair health, and honesty; With three-fold love I wish you all these three. Dum. O, shall I say, I thank you, gentle wife? K. Not so, my lord;-a twelvemonth and a day I'll mark no words that smooth-fac'd wooers say: Come when the king doth to my lady come, Then, if I have much love, I'll give you some. 1 Regard. 2 Clothing. 8 Stained. M D. I'll serve thee true and faithfully till then. K. Yet swear not, lest you be forsworn again. Long. What says Maria? Mar. At the twelvemonth's end, I'll change my black gown for a faithful friend. L. I'll stay with patience; but the time is long. Mar. The liker you; few taller are so young. Bir. Studies, my lady? mistress, look on me. Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, What humble suit attends thy answer there; Impose some service on me for thy love. Ros. Oft have I heard of you, my lord Birón, Before I saw you: and the world's large tongue Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks ; Full of comparisons and wounding flouts; Which you on all estates will execute, That lie within the mercy of your wit: To weed thiswormwood from your fruitful brain; And, therewithal, to win me, if you please, (Without the which I am not to be won,) You shall this twelvemonth term from dayto day Visit the speechless sick, and still converse With groaning wretches; and your task shall be, With all the fierce endeavour of your wit, To enforce the pained impotent to smile. B. To move wild laughter in the throat of It cannot be; it is impossible: [death? Mirth cannot move a soul in agony. [spirit, Ros. Why, that's the way to choke a gibing Whose influence is begot of that loose grace, Which shallow laughing hearers give to fools: A jest's prosperity lies in the ear Of him that hears it, never in the tongue Will hear your idle scorns, continue then, Biron. A twelvemonth? well, befal what will I'll jest a twelvemonth in an hospital. [befal, Prin. Ay, sweet my lord: and so I take my leave. [To the King. K. No, madam: we will bring you on your way. Bir. Our wooing doth not end like an old play; Jack hath not Jill: these ladies' courtesy Might well have made our sport a comedy. K. Come, sir, it wants a twelvemonth and a And then 'twill end. [day, Biron. That's too long for a play. Enter Armado. Arm. Sweet majesty, vouchsafe me.Prin. Was not that Hector? Dum. The worthy knight of Troy. Arm. I will kiss thy royal finger and take leave: I am a votary; I have vowed to Jaquenetta to hold the plough for her sweet love three years. But, most esteemed greatness, will you SALARINO,Friends to Antonio and Bassanio. PORTIA, a rich Heiress. PRINCE OF ARRAGON, BASSANIO, his Friend. SALANIO, Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of NERISSA, her Waiting-Maid. JESSICA, Daughter to Shylock. TUBAL, a Jew, his Friend. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a Clown, Servant to Shylock. | Justice, Gaoler, Servants, and other Attendants. SCENE.-Partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the seat of Portia, on the Continent. Act First. SCENE I.-VENICE. A STREET. And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; The better part of my affections would Salar. And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks? To think on this; and shall I lack the thought, That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me sad? But, tell not me; I know Antonio Ant. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it, Ant. 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 Nature hath fram'd strange fellows in her time: Enter Bassanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano. Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well; [kinsman, We leave you now with better company. [merry, Salar. I would have staid till I had made you If worthier friends had not prevented me. Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I take it, your own business calls on you, And you embrace the occasion to depart. Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say, when? You grow exceeding strange: Must it be so? Sular. We'll make our leisures to attend on [Exeunt Salarino and Salanio. [yours. Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, We two will leave you: but, at dinner-time, |