DUKE of Venice.

PRINCE of Morocco.

PRINCE of Arragon.

ANTHONIO, the Merchant of Venice.

BASSANIO, his Friend.

+ SOLANIO,

SALARINO,

GRATIANO,

Friends to ANTHONIO and BASSANIO.

✓ LORENZO, in love with JESSICA.

SHYLOCK, a Jew.

TUBAL, a Jew.

LAUNCELOT, a Clown, Servant to the Jew.

GOBBO, Father to LAUNCELOT.

SALERIO, a Meffenger from Venice.

LEONARDO, Servant to BASSANIO.

Senators of Venice, Officers, Jailer, Servants, and other
Attendants.

SCENE-partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portia.

+ Solanio, It is not easy to determine the orthography of this name. In the old editions the owner of it is called,-Salanio, Salino, and Solanio; the laft is followed for the fake of diftinction.

THIS PLAY, written in the year 1598, is founded on a story in the Pecorone of Ser Giovanni Fiorentino, a Novelift of the 14th Century; the Incidents of the Bond and Cafkets might be borrowed from an old translation of the Gefta Romanorum.

MERCHANT

O F

VENICE.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A Street in Venice.

Enter Anthonio, Salarino, and Solanio.

Anth. In footh, I know not why I am so fad;
It wearies me; you fay, it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,
I am to learn:

And fuch a want-wit fadness makes of me,
That I have much ado to know myself.

Sol. Your mind is toffing on the ocean;

There, where your argofies with portly fail,

Like figniors and rich burghers on the flood,

argofies]-large fhips of Ragusa, whence other merchantmen of

great burthen were fo called.

Or as it were the pageants of the sea,-
Do over-peer the petty traffickers,

That curtly to them, do them reverence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
Sala. Believe me, fir, had I fuch venture forth,
The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I fhould be still
P Plucking the grass, to know where fits the wind;
Prying in maps, for ports, and piers, and roads:
And every object, that might make me fear
Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt,
Would make me fad.

Sol. My wind, cooling my broth,

Would blow me to an ague, when I thought
What harm a wind too great might do at fea.
I should not fee the fandy hour-glass run,
But I fhould think of fhallows, and of flats;

с

And fee my wealthy Andrew dock'd in fand,

d

Vailing her high top lower than her ribs,

To kifs her burial. Should I go to church,

And fee the holy edifice of stone,

And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks
Which touching but my gentle veffel's fide,
Would scatter all her fpices on the stream;
Enrobe the roaring waters with my filks;
And, in a word, but even now worth this,
And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought
To think on this: and shall I lack the thought,
That fuch a thing, bechanc'd, would make me fad?
But, tell not me; I know, Anthonio

Is fad to think upon his merchandize.

Plucking the grass,]—to find out by its motion, when held up, the direction of the wind. Andrew]-a fhip's name. d Vailing her high top lower than her ribs, to kijs her burial.]— Bowing it beneath her fides, to meet her grave.

Anth.

Anth. Believe me, no: I thank my fortune for it,
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,

Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
Upon the fortune of this present year:

Therefore, my merchandize makes me not fad.
Sala. Why then you are in love.

Anth. Fie, fie!

Sala. Not in love neither? Then let's fay, you are sad, Because you are not merry: and 'twere as eafy

For you, to laugh, and leap, and fay, you are merry,
Because you are not fad., Now, by two-headed Janus,
Nature hath fram'd ftrange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh, like parrots, at a bag-piper;
And other of fuch vinegar aspect,

That they'll not show their teeth in way of fmile,
Though Neftor fwear the jeft be laughable.

Enter Baffanio, Lorenzo, and Gratiano.

Sol. Here comes Baffanio, your most noble kinfman, Gratiano, and Lorenzo: Fare you well;

We leave you now with better company.

Sala. I would have staid till I had made you merry,
If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Anth. Your worth is very dear in my regard.
I take it, your own bufinefs calls on you,
And you embrace the occafion to depart.

Sol. Good morrow, my good lords.

Baff. Good figniors both, when shall we laugh? fay,

when?

You grow exceeding ftrange; Muft it be fo?

Sol. We'll make our leifures to attend on yours.

[Exeunt Sol, and Sala.

We

Lor. My lord Baffanio, fince you have found Anthonio,

G 3