My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand;
And bring your music forth into the air.-

[exit Stephano. How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night, Become the touches of sweet harmony.

:

Sit, Jessica look, how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold;
There's not the smallest orb, which thou behold'st,
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-ey'd cherubins:
Such harmony is in immortal souls ;
But, whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.-
Enter Musicians.

Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn;
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.

Jes. I am never merry, when I hear sweet [music.

music.

Lor. The reason 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 but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or
any air of music touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze,
By the sweet power of music: therefore, the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and
floods;

Since nought so stockish, hard, and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature:
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils;
The motions of his spirits are dull as night,
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the music.
Enter Portia and Nerissa, at a distance.
Por. That light we see, is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
Ner. When the moon shone, we did not see
the candle.

Por. So doth the greater glory dim the less:
A substitute shines brightly as a king,
Until a king be by; and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters. Music! hark!

Ner. It is your music, madam, of the house. Por. Nothing is good, I see, without respect; Methinks, it sounds much sweeter than by day. Ner. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. Por. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark. When neither is attended; and, I think, The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren. How many things by season season'd are To their right praise, and true perfection!Peace, hoa! the moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awak'd!

[music ceases.

[lord.

Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light; For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, And never be Bassanio so for me; But God sort all!-You are welcome home, my Bass. I thank you, madam: give welcome to This is the man, this is Antonio, [my friend. To whom I am so infinitely bound.

Por. You should in all sense be much bound to For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. [him, Ant. No more than I am well acquitted of. Por. Sir, you are very welcome to our house: It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore, I scant this breathing courtesy.

[Gratiano and Nerissa seem to talk apart. Gra. By yonder moon, I swear, you do me In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk: [wrong. Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. Por. A quarrel, ho, already? what's the matter? Gra. About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring That she did give me; whose posy was For all the world, like cutler's poetry Upon a knife, love me, and leave me not.'

Ner. What talk you of the posy, or the value? You swore to me, when I did give it you, That you would wear it till your hour of death; And that it should lie with you in your grave: Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, You should have been respective, and have kept it. Gave it a judge's clerk!-but well I know, [it. The clerk will ne'er wear hair on his face, that had Gra. He will, an if he live to be a man. Ner. Ay, if a woman live to be a man. Gra. Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth,A kind of boy; a little scrubbed boy, No higher than thyself, the judge's clerk; A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee; I could not for my heart deny it him. Por. You were to blame, I must be plain with To part so slightly with your wife's first gift; A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger,

[you,

And riveted so with faith unto your flesh.
I gave my love a ring, and made him swear
Never to part with it; and here he stands :
I dare be sworn for him, he would not leave it,
Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth
That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano,
You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief';
An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it.

Bass. Why, I were best to cut my left hand off, And swear, I lost the ring defending it. [aside. Gra. My lord Bassanio gave his ring away Unto the judge that begg'd it, and, indeed, Deserv'd it too: and then the boy, his clerk, That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine: And neither man, nor master, would take aught But the two rings.

Por. What ring gave you, my lord?
Not that, I hope, which you receiv'd of me.
Bass. If I could add a lie unto a fault,
I would deny it; but you see my finger
Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone.

Por. Even so void is your false heart of truth.
By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed
Until I see the ring.

Ner. Nor I in yours, Till I again see mine.

Bass. Sweet Portia,

If you did know to whom I gave the ring,
If you did know for whom I gave the ring,
And would conceive for what I gave the ring,
And how unwillingly I left the ring,
When nought would be accepted but the ring,
You would abate the strength of your displeasure.
Por. If you had known the virtue of the ring,
Or half her worthiness that gave the ring,
Or your own honour to contain the ring,
You would not then have parted with the ring.
What man is there so much unreasonable,
If you had pleas'd to have defended it
With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty
To urge the thing held as a ceremony?
Nerissa teaches me what to believe;
I'll die for't, but some woman had the ring.
Bass. No, by mine honour, madam, by my soul,
No woman had it, but a civil doctor,

Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me,
And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him,
And suffer'd him to go displeas'd away;
Even he that had held up the very life
Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet
I was enforc'd to send it after him;

[lady?

I was beset with shame and courtesy;
My honour would not let ingratitude
So much besmear it.- Pardon me, good lady;
For, by these blessed candles of the night,
Had you been there, I think, you would have
The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. [begg'd

Por. Let not that doctor e'er come near my
Since he hath got the jewel that I lov'd, [house:
And that which you did swear to keep for me,
I will become as liberal as you;
I'll not deny him any thing I have,
No, not my body, nor my husband's bed:
Know him I shall, I am well sure of it:

Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus: If you do not, if I be left alone,

Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own, I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow.

Ner. And I his clerk; therefore be well advis'd How you do leave me to mine own protection. Gra. Well, do you so: let not me take him theu; For, if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen. Ant. I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. Por. Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwithstanding.

Bass. Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong; And, in the hearing of these many friends I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes Wherein I see myself,

Por. Mark you but that!

In both my eyes he doubly sees himself,
In each eye, one :-swear by your double self,
And there's an oath of credit.

Bass. Nay, but hear me:
Pardon this fault, and by my soul I

swear,

I never more will break an oath with thee.
Ant. I once did lend my body for his wealth;
Which, but for him that had your husband's ring,
[to Por.
Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again
My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord
Will never more break faith advisedly.

Por. Then you shall be his surety: give him this; And bid him keep it better than the other. [ring. Ant. Here, lord Bassanio; swear to keep this Bass. By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor! Por. I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; For by this ring the doctor lay with me.

Ner. And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, In lieu of this, last night did lie with me.

Gra. Why, this is like the mending of highways In summer, where the ways are fair enough: What! are we cuckolds, ere we have deserv'd it?

Por. Speak not so grossly.-You are all amaz'd: Here is a letter, read it at your leisure; It comes from Padua, from Bellario: There you shall find, that Portia was the doctor; Nerissa there, her clerk: Lorenzo here Shall witness, I set forth as soon as you, And but even now return'd; I have not yet Enter'd my house.-Antonio, you are welcome And I have better news in store for you, Than you expect: unseal this letter soon; There you shall find, three of your argosies Are richly come to harbour suddenly: You shall not know by what strange accident I chanced on this letter.

;

[not?

Ant. I am dumb.
Bass. Were you the doctor, and I knew you
Gra. Were you the clerk, that is to make me
cuckold?

Ner. Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it, Unless he live until he be a man.

Bass. Sweet doctor, you shall be my bedfellow; When I am absent, then lie with my wife.

Ant. Sweet lady, you have given me life and For here I read for certain that my ships [living; Are safely come to road.

Por. How now, Lorenzo?

My clerk hath some good comforts too for you.

Ner. Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee.

There do I give to you and Jessica
From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift,
After his death, of all he dies possess'd of.

Lor. Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way Of starved people.

Por. It is almost morning,

And yet, I am sure, you are not satisfied
Of these events at full. Let us go in;
And charge us there upon inter'gatories,

And we will answer all things faithfully.
Gra. Let it be so. The first inter❜gatory,
That my Nerissa shall be sworn on, is,
Whether till the next night she had rather stay,
Or go to bed now, being two hours to-day:
But were the day come, I should wish it dark,
That I were couching with the doctor's clerk.
Well, while I live, I'll fear no other thing
So sore, as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. [ercunt,

Sampson, servants to Capulet. Gregory, S

Abram, Servant to Montague. An Apothecary.

Three Musicians.

Chorus. Boy; Page to Paris; Peter; an Officer.

Lady Montague, wife to Montague.

Lady Capulet, wife to Capulet.
Juliet, daughter to Capulet.
Nurse to Juliet.

Citizens of Verona; several Men and Women, relations to both houses; Maskers, Guards, Watchmen, and Attendants.

SCENE I. A PUBLIC PLACE.

Enter Sampson and Gregory, armed with swords and bucklers.

Sam. GREGORY, o'my word, we'll not carry coals.
Gre. No, for then we should be colliers.
Sam. I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw.
Gre. Ay, while you live, draw your neck out
of the collar.

Sam. I strike quickly, being moved.

Gre. But thou art not quickly moved to strike.
Sam. A dog of the house of Montague moves

tague's.

Gre. That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes to the wall.

Sam. True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, are ever thrust to the wall:therefore I will push Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids to the wall.

Gre. The quarrel is between our masters, and us their men.

Sam. 'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant; when I have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the maids; I will cut off their heads. Gre. The heads of the maids?

Sam. The heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; take it in what sense thou wilt.

Gre. They must take it in sense, that feel it. Sam. Me they shall feel, while I am able to stand: and, 'tis known, I am a pretty piece of flesh.

Gre. 'Tis well, thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool; here come two of the house of the Montagues.

Enter Abram and Balthasar.

Sam. My naked weapon is out; quarrel, I will back thee.

Gre. How? turn thy back, and run?
Sam. Fear me not.

Gre. No, marry: I fear thee!

Sam. Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin.

Gre. I will frown, as I pass by; and let them take it as they list.

Sam. Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; which is a disgrace to them, if they bear Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? [it. Sam. I do bite my thumb, sir.

Abr. Do you bite your thumb at us, sir
Sam. Is the law on our side, if I say-ay?
Gre. No.

Sam. No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir; but I bite my thumb, sir.

Gre. Do you quarrel, sir?

Abr. Quarrel sir? no, sir.

Sam. If you do, sir, I am for you; I serve as good a man as you.

Abr. No better.
Sam. Well, sir.

Enter Benvolio, at a distance.

Gre. Say-better; here comes one of my master's kinsmen.

Sam. Yes, better, sir.