The Merchant of Venice
Enter Anthonio, Salarino, and Salanio.
IN sooth I know not why I am so sad,
It wearies me: you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuffe' tis made of. whereof it is borne,
I am to learne: and such a Want-wit sadnesse makes of mee,
That I have much ado to know my selfe.
Sal. Your minde is tolsing on the Ocean,
There where your Argosies with portly saile
Like Signiors and rich Burgers on the flood,
Or as it were the Pageants of the fea,
Do over-peere the pettie Traffiquers
That curtsie to them, do them reverence
As they flye by them with their woven wings.
Salar. Beleeve me sir, had I such venture forth,
The better part of my affections, would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking the grasse to know where fits the winde,
Peering in Maps for ports, and peers, and rodes:
And every obiect that might make me feare
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt
Would make me sad.
Sal. My winde cooling my broth,
Would blow me to an Ague, when I thought
What harme a winde too great might doc at sea.
I should not see the sandie houre-glasse runne,
But I should thinke of shallows, and of flats,
And see my wealthy Andrew docks in sand,
Vailing her high top lower then her ribs
To kisse her buriall; should I goe to Church
And see the holy edifice of stone,
And not bethinke me straight of dangerous rocks,
Which touching but my gentle Vessels side
Would scatter all her spices on the streame,
Enrobe the roring waters with my silkes
And in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing. Shall I have the thought
To thinke on this, and shall I lacke the thought
That such a thing bechaunc'd would make me sad?
But tell not me, I know Anthonio
Is sad to thinke vpon his merchandize.
Anth. Beleeve me no,I thanke my fortune for it,
My ventures are not in one bottome trusted,
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
Upon the fortune of this prefent yeere:
Therefore my merchandize makes me not sad.
Sola. Why then you are in love.
Anth. Fie, fie.
Sola. Not in love neither: then let us say you are sad
Because you are not merry; and 'twere as easie
For you to laugh and leape, and fay you are merry
Because you are not sad. Now by two-headcd Janus,
Nature hath fram'd strange fellowes in her time:
Some that will evermore peepe through their eyes,
And laugh like Parrats at a bag-piper.
And other of such vineger aspect,
That they'll not shew their teeth in way of smile.
Though Nestor sweare the ielt be laughable.
Enter Bassanio, Lorenso, and Gratiano.
Sola. Heere comes Bassanio,
Your most noble kinsman,
Gratiano, and Lorenso. Faryewell,
We leave you now with better company.
Sola. I would have staid till I had made you merry.
If worthier friends had not prevented me.
Ant. Your worth is very deere in my regard.
I take it your owne busines calls on you,
And you embrace th'occasion to depare.
Sal. Good morrow my good Lords. (when?
Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say,
You grow exceeding strange: must It be so?
Sal. Wee'll make our leysures to attend on yours.
Exeunt Salarino, and Solanro.
Lor. My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Anthonio,
We two will leavc you, but at dinnertime
I pray you have in minde where we must meete.
Bass. I will not faile you.
Grat. You looke not well signior Anthonio,
You have too much respect upon the world:
They loose it that doe buy it with much care,
Beleeve 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.
Grati. Let me play the foole,
With mirth and laughter let old wrinckles come,
And let my Liver rather heate with wine,
Then my heart coole with mortifying grones.
Why should a man whose bloud is warme within,
Sit like his Grandsire, cut in Alablaster?
Sleepe when he wakes? and creep into the Jaundies