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self ;

Verg. Here, here comes master signior Leo. Leon. Go, I discharge thee of toy prisoner, and nato, and the Sexton too.

I thank thee.

Dogb. I leave an arrant knave with you Re-enter LEONATO and ANTONIO, with the worship; wbich, 1 beseecb your worsbip, to Sexton.

correct yourself, for the exainple of others. Leon. Which is the villain? Let me see bis God keep your worsbip: I wish your worship eyes ;

well; God restore you to bealth : I bumbly ene That when I note another man like him,

you leave to depart; and is a merry meeting way I may avoid hiin : Which of these is he? be wisbed, God prohibit it.-Core, neighbaar. Bora. If you would know your wrouger look

(Ereunt DOG BERRY, VERCES, and WATCH. on me.

Leon. Until to-inorrow morning, lords, fare Leon. An thou the slave, that with thy breath

well. bast kill'd

Ant. Farewell, my lords; we look for you Mine innocent child ?

to-morrow Bora. Yea, even | alone.

D. Pedro. We will not fail.
Leon. No, not so, villain ; thou beli'st thy. Claud. To-night I'll mourn with Hero.

(Exeunt Don PEDRO and Clar210. Here stand a pair of lionourable inen,

Leon. Bring you these fellows on; we'l talk A third is fled, that had a hand in it :

with Margaret, I thank you, priuces, for iny daughter's death; How her acquaintauce grew with this kri. Record it with your high and wortby deeds;


(Excent. 'Twas bravely done, if you bethink you of it. Claud. I know not how to pray your patience,

SCENE 11.-LEONATO's Garden. Yet I must speak : Choose your revenge your. Enter BENEDICK and MARGARET, meeting.

self ; lopose * me to what penance your invention

Bene. Pray thee, sweet mistress Margarit, Cau lay upon my sin : yet sinn'd I not,

deserve well at my hands, by belping me to the But in mistaking.

speech of Beatrice. D. Pedro. By my soul, nor 1 ;

Marg. Will you then write me a soupet in And yet, to satisfy this good old man,

praise of my beauty ? I would bend under any heavy weigut

Bene. Io so bigh a style, Margaret, that pe That be'll enjoin me to.

man living shall come over it: for, in s Leon. I cannot bid you bid my daughter live, comely truth, thou deservest it. That were impossible ; but, I pray you both,

Marg. Tu have no man come over me ! sby, Possess + the people in Messina bere

sball I always keep below stairs ! How ionccent she died : and, if your love

Bene. Thy wit is as quick as the greyteate's Can labour aught in sad mivention,

inouth, it catches. Haug her an epitaph upor her tomb,

Marg. And your's as blunt as the feucer's And sing it to her bones ; sing it to-night:- foils, wbich hit, but hurt not. Tomorrow morning come you to my house ;

Bene. A most manly wil, Margaret, it And since you could not be my son-in-law,

not lurt a woman; and so, I pray thee, cal Be yet my nephew : my broiher baih a daugh. Beatrice : I give thee ihe bucklers. ter,

Jurg. Give us the swords, we have bechlers

of our own. Almost the copy of iny child that's dead, And she alone is heir to both of us;

Bene. If you use thein, Margaret, moest Give her the right you should bave given her put in the pikes with a vice ; and tbey are dua. cousin,

gerous Weapous for maids. And so dies my revenge.

Jarg. Well, I will call Beatrice to you, b, Claud, o moble Sir,

I think, bath legs.

(Exit MARGARIT. Your over-kindess doth wring tears from me!

Bené. And iberefore will coine. I do embrace your offer; and dispose

The gort of love, (Singing.)

That sits aboie,
For henceforth of poor Claudio.
Leon. To-morrow then I will expect yow

And knows me, and knens me,

How pitiful I deserve, To-night I take my leave.-Tbis naughty man I mean in singing ; but in loring,- Leander the Shall face to face be brought to Margaret, good swimmer, Troilus the first empre of Wbo, I believe, was pack'd I in all this wrong, pandars, and a whole book full of these qe Hir'd to it by your brother.

dam carpet-inongers, whose names yet rua Bora. No, by my soul, she was not ;

smoothly in the even road of a blank vers, by Nor kuew not wbat she did, when she spoke to they were never so truly turned over and over as me;

my poor self, in love : Marry, I cannot sbos s But always hath been just and virtuons,

in rhyme; I have tried ; I can tind out to be Ju any thing that I do know by her.

to lauty but baby, an imocent rhyme ; for $*, Dogb. Moreover, Sir , (which, indeed, is not horn, a hard thymne ; for school, jord, a bab under white and black,) this plaintill here, the bling rhyine; veryomunions endisgs: 1 offender, did call me ass : I beseech you, let it was not born under a rhyming planet, sur 1 be remembered in his punishment. And also, cannot woo in festival terms. + the watch heard them talk of one Deforned: they say, he wears a key in his ear, and a lock

Enter BEATRICE. hanging by it; and borrows money in God's Sweet Beatrice, would'st thou coine wber 1 name; the which he bath used so long, and called thee? never paid, that now men grow hard-hearted, Beat. Yea, signior, and depart when yos band will lend nothing for God's sake : Pray you, me. examive bin upon that point.

Bene. Oh! stay by: till then ! Leon. I thank thee for tby care and houest Beat. Then, is spoken ; sare you well now:pains.

and yet, ere I go, let me go with that I canze Dogb. Your worship speaks like a most ibank-for, which is, with knowing what hath pasad ful and reverend youth: and I praise God for between you and Claudio. you.

Bere. Only foul words; and thereupon 1 wul Leon. There's for thy pains.

kiss thee. Dogb. God save the fouudation !

Brat. Foul words is bot fool wisd, and full

wind is but foul breath, and foul bueath is but • Command.

soine; therefore I will depart unkissru.
+ Acquant.

• Ignorant.

+ Holiday phrases

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Bene. Thou hast frighted the word ont of his Graves, yawn, and yield your dead, right sense, so forcible is thy wit : But, I must

Till death be ultered, tell tbee plainly, Claudio undergoes my chal

Heavily, heavily. lenge ; and either I must shortly hear from him,

Claud. Now, unto thy bones good night! or i will subscribe him a coward. And I, pray

Yearly will I do this rite. thee now, tell me, for wbich of my bad parts

D. Pedro. Good morrow, masters ; put your didst thou first fall in love with me?

torches out ; Beat. For them all together; which main.

The wolves have prey'd; and look, the gentained 80 politic a state of evil, that they will

tle day,
not admit any good part to interningle with Before the wheels of Phæbus, round about
them. But for which of my good parts did you

Dapples the drowsy east with spots of gray : tirst suffer love for me

Thanks to you all, and leave us ; fare you well. Bene. Suffer love ; a good epithet! I do suffer

Claud. Good morrow, masters; each his selove, indeed, for I love thee against my will.

veral way, Beat. In spite of your heart, I think ; alas!

D. Pedro. Come, let us bence, and put ou poor heart! If you spite it for my sake, I will

other weeds;
spite it for yours; for I will never love that and then to Leonato's we will go.
which my friend hates.

Cluud. And Hymen, now with luckier issue
Bene. Thou and I are too wise to woo peace-

speeds, ably. Beat. It appears not in this confession : there's Than this, for whom we render'd up this woe!

(Eseunt. not one wise man among twenty that will praise himself.

Bene. An old, an old instance, Beatrice, that SCENE IV.-A Room in LEONATO's House. lived in the time of good neighbours : If a man Enter LEONATO, ANTONIO, BENEDICK, BEAdo not erect in this age his own tomb ere he dies, he shall live no longer in monument, than

TRICE, URSULA, FRIAR, and HERO. the bell rings, and the widow weeps.

Friar. Did I not tell you she was innocent? Reat. And how long is that, think you ?

Leon. So are the prince and Claudio, wbo Bene. Question ?-Why, an hour in clamour.

accus'd her, and a quarter in rheum: Therefore it is most Upon the error that you heard debated : expedient for the wise, (if Don Worm bis cou. But Margaret was in some fault for this ; science, and no impediment to the contrary, Although against ber will, as it appears to be the trumpet of his own virtues, as I am to in tbe true course of all the question. myself : So much for praising myself, (who, ! Ant. Well, I am glad that all things sort so myself will bear witness, is praise.worlby,) and

well. now tell me, How doib your cousin ?

Bene. And so am I, being else by faith an Beat. Very ill.

forcod Bene. And how do you?

To call young Claudio to a reckoning for it. Beat. Very ill too.

Leon. Well, daughter, and you gentlewomen
Bene. Serve God, love me, and mend : then

will I leave you too, for here comes one in Withdraw into a chamber by yourselves ;

And, when I send for you, come hither inask'd :

The prince and Claudio promis'd by tbis hour

To visit me :- You know your office, brother; Urs. Madam, you must come to your uncle ; You must be father to your brother's daughter, yonder's old coiit at bome : it is proved, my And give her to young Claudio. lady Hero bath been falsely accused, the prince

(Exeunt Ladies. and Claudio mightily abused ; and Don John is Ant. Whicb I will do with coufirm'd counthe author of all, who is tied and gone : will you

tenance. come presently?

Bene. Friar, I must entreat your paius, I Beat. Will you go hear this news, signior ?

think. Bene. I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, Friar. To do what, signior? and be buried in tby eyes; and, moreover, I will Bene. To bind me, or undo me, one of go with thee to thy uncle's.



Signior Leonato, truth it is, good signior,
SCENE III.-The inside of a Church.

Yonr niece regards me with an eye of favour.
Enter Don PEDRO, CLAUDIO, and ATTEN. Leon. That eye my daughter lent her ; 'Tis

most true. DANTS, with Music and Tapers.

Bene. And I do with an eye of love requite Claud. Is this the monument of Leonato !

her. Allen. It is, my lord.

Leon. The sight whereof, I think you had Claud. (Reads from a scroll.)

from me, Done to death by slunderous tongues

From Claudio aud the prince ; But what's your W'as the Hero that here lies :

will? Death, the guerdon of her wrongs

Bene. Your answer, Sir, is enigmatical : Gives her jame which never dies :

But for my will, my will is, your good will
So the life, that died with shame,

May stand with our's, this day to be conjoin'd
Lives in death with glorious jame. In the estate of honourable marriage :-
Hang thou there upon the tomb,

In which, good friar, I shall desire your help. (Affixing it.

Leon. My heart is with your liking.
Praising her when I am dumb.-

Friar. And my help.
Now, music, sound, and sing your solemn Here comes the prince, and Claudio.

Enter Don PEDRO and CLAUDIO, with
Pardon, goddess of the night,

Those that slew thy virgin knight ;

D. Pedro. Good morrow to this fair assem.
For the which, with songs of woe,
Round about her tomb they go.

Midnight, assist our moan ;

Leon. Good-morrow, prince; good-morrow,
Help us to sigh and groan,.

Claudio ;
Heavily, heavily:

We bere attend you ; are you yet determin'd

To-day to marry with my brother's daughter! • Is subject to. + Stir.

Reward. 1

Claud. I'll hold my mind, were she an Elbiope. Leor. Call her forth, brother, here's the friar Bene. 'Tis no such matter :-Then, you do no ready. (Erit ANTONIO.

love me? D. Pedro. Good morrow, Benedick: Why, Beat. No, truly, but in friendly recompense. what's the matter,

Leon. Come, cousin, I am sure you ivit the That you have such a February face,

gentleman. So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness? Claud. And I'll be sworn upon't, thai be bores Claud, I think, he thinks upon the savage For here's a paper, written in his band, dii bull:

A halting sondet of his own pure braje,
Tush, fear not, man, we'll tip thy horns with Fashion': to Beatrice.
And all Europa shall rejoice at ibee : (gold, Hero. And here's another,
As once Europa did at lusty Jove,

Writ in my cousin's band, stolen from bet pucks. When he would play the noble beast in love. Containing her affection unto Benedick.

Bene. Ball Jove, Sir, had an amiable low; Bene. A miracle ! here's our own hands 270*st And some such strange bull leap'd your father's our hearts !- Come, I will have thee ; bez bat And got a calf in that saine noble feat, (cow, light, I take thee for pity. Mach like to you, for you have just bis bleat. Béat. I would not deny yon ; but, by Oscand Re-enter ANTONIO, with the Ladies masked. to save your life, for I was told yoa setia

day, I yield upou great persuasion; and, part, Claud. For this I owe you : bere comes other consumption. reckonings.

Bene: Peace, I will stop your mouth.Which is the lady I must seize upon ?

(hussing te Ant. This saine is she, and I do give you ber. D. Pedro. How dost thou, Benedice the 1.2Claud. Why, then she's mine : Sweet, let me

ried man? see your face.

Bene. I'll tell thee wbat, prince; a college of Leon. No, that you shall not, till you take her wit crackers cannot fout me out of wy bare: Before this Friar and swear to marry ber. (hand Dost thou think, I care for a satire, or as epi

Claud. Give me your hand before this holy gram? No: if a man will be beaten with Brazi, I am your husband, if you like of me. (friar; he shall wear nothing handsome about dib: 1 Hero. And when I liv'd, I was your other brief, since I do propose to marry, I will think

II'nmasking. nothing to any purpose that the world can say And when you loved, you were my other husband. against it; and therefore bever Dout at de fer Claud. Another Hero ?

what I have said against it ; for an 13 2 4y Hero. Nothing certainer:

thing, and this is my conclusion.-For thy gari, Que Hero died detild; but I do live,

Claudio, I did think to have beaten thee :D And, surely as I live, I am a maid.

that thou art like to be my kinsmaa, live es D. Pedro. The former Hero! Hero that is bruised, and love my cousin. dead!

Claud. I had well hoped, thou wouldst kart Leon. She died, my lord, but wbiles her slan- denied Beatrice, that I might have cadgelie tee der lived.

out of thy single life, to make tsee a tash Friar. All this amazement can I qualify; dealer; which out of question, thoa sitt, # When, after that the holy rites are ended, my cousin do not look exceeding nartowiy to her. l'll tell you largely of fair Hero's death :

Bene, Come, come, we are friends ;-let's have Mean time, let wonder seem familiar,

a dance ere we are married, that we may hottes And to the chapel let us presently.

our own bearts, and our wives' heels. Bene. Soft and fair, friar.-Which is Beatrice? Leon. We'll hare dancing afterwards. Beat. I answer to that name ; [Unmasking.) Bene. First, o' my word! iberefere, pias, What is your will ?

music.Bene. Do not you love me?

Prince, thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee Beut. No, no more than reason.

wife: there is no stati more reverend than one Bene. Why, then your uncle, and the prince, tipped with horn.

and Claudio, Have been deceived; for they swore you did.

Enter a MESSENGER. Beat. Do not yon love me?

Ness. My lord, your brother Jobs is ta'en in Bene. No, no more than reason.

fight, Beat. Why, then my cousin, Margaret, and And brought with armed met back to Nessite. Ursula.

Bene. Think not on himn till to-morrow, 192 Are much deceivid; for they did swear you did. devise thee brave punishments for bin.-Strac Bene. They swore that you were alınost sick up, pipers.

(Escut Beat. They swore that you were well-nigh dead for me.

wife :


• B.cause

for me.


LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. SII SK SPEARE was supposed to have taken the two plots of this admirable play from an Italian novel, and from

a collection of old stories, printed by Wynkiu de Worde, under the title of Gesta Romanorum; but as a play comprehending the incidents of both had been exbibited long before be commenced writing for the stage, bo probably chose the latter as n model for his own production. It matters not, however, froin what source a dramatie author derives his plot, so that he plan it well, and make good use of it afterward; and Johnsoa says, that in this play " the union of two actions in one event is enrnently happy ;" excelling evea Dryden's skillal conjunction of the two ploss in his Spanish Friar, yet the interest of the action can scarcely be said to continue beyond the disgrace of Shylock, in the fourth act; since expectation is so strongly fixed upoa " justice and the bond," that it ceases to exist after they are satisfied. In the defeat of canning, so in the triumph of Humanity, the most powerful feelings of our nature are successively appealed to: thus anticipation is keenly alive, so long as Artonio's fate is dark and undecided. But with the development of that, the charm is at an end. The power of excitement expires with the object upon which the feelings were centered; rod aszbe lesser passions are susceptible of little delight, when the greater have been subjected 10 als unusual stimulant, the cominon-place trities of the concluding act are rather endured with patienre, tban received with gratification. The character of Shylock is no less original, then it is finely finished: "the language, allusions, and ideas (says llenly) are so appropriate to a Jew, that Shylock might be exhibited for au exemplar of that peculiar people;” nor are the other personages unpleasingly drawn or inadequately supportert. Of detached passages, Portia's description of the qualities and excellence of marcy, may be relected as one of the noblest attributes with wbich Genius has ever exalted the excellence of any particular virtge,


OLD GOBBO, Father to Launcelot. PRINCE OF Morocco: suitors to Portia.

SALERIO, a Messengit from Venice. PRINCE OF ARRAGON,

LEONARDO, Serrant to Bassanio. ANTON10, the Merchant of Venice.



Servants to Portia.
SALARINO, Friends to Antonio and Bassanio. PORTIA, a rich Heiress :

NERISSA, her waiting-muid.
LORENZO, in love with Jessica.

JESSICA, Daughter to Shylock.
TOBAL, a Jew, his friend.

Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a Clown, Servant to Shy. Justice, Jailer, Serrants, and other lock.


SCENE-partly at Venice, and partly at Belmont, the Seat of Portla, on the Continent.


SCENE 1.-Venice.- A Street.

Ant. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad ;
It weavies me ; you say, 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 much a want wit saduess makes of me,
That I bave inuch ado to know myself.

Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean :
Torre, whicre your argosies • with portly sail,

• Ships of large burtheu, probabiy galleons.

Like signiors and rich burghers of the flood,
Or, as it were the pageants of the sea,
Do overpeer the petty trafficheis,
That curl'sy to them Perence,
As they fly by them with their woven wings.
Salan. Believe me, Sir, bad I such ventare

The better part of my affections would
Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still
Plucking ihe grass, to know where sits the

wind i
Peering in maps, for posts, and piers, and ronds;
Aud every object, that might make me icat
Misfortune to dy ventures out of doubt
Would make me sad.

Salar. My wind tuoling my broth,


Would blow me to an ague when I thought And do a wilful stillness entertain,
What harm a wind too great might do at sea. With purpose to be dress'd in an opinios
I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
But I should think of shallows and of fats ; As who should say, I am Sir Oracle,
And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in saud, And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bars!
Vailing ber bigb-top lower than her ribs, O my Antonio, I do know of these,
To kiss her burial. Should I go to church, That therefore only are reputed wise,
And see the holy edifice of stone,

For saying notbing ; wbo, I am very sure,
And not betbink me straight of dangerous rocks; If they should speak, would almost dama thor
Which touching but my gentle vessel's side,

ears, Would scatter all her spices on the stream ; Whicb, hearing them, would call tbeir brobbers, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks ; I'll tell thee more of this another time : And, in a word, but even now worth this, But fish not, with this melancholy bait, And now worth nothing ? Shall I have the For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.thought

Come, good Lorenzo :-Fare ye well, a while; To think on this; and shall I lack the thought, l'll end my exbortation after dinner. + That such a thing, bechanc'd, would make me Lor. Well, we will leave you tben till dieser sad?

time : But, tell pot me: I know, Antonio

I must be one of these same dumb wise men, Is sad to think upon his merchandise.

For Gratiano never lets me speak. Ant. Believe me, no : I thank my fortune for Gra. Well, keep me company bott** years My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,

more, Nor to one place ; nor is my whole estate Thou shalt not know the sound of thise ona Upon the fortune of this present year :

tongue. Therefore, my merchandise makes me not sad. Ant. Farewell : I'll grow a taler for tis Salan. Why then you are in love.

gear. Ant. Fie, fie !

Gra. Thanks, i'faith ; for silence only is cos Salan. Not in love neither? Then let's say you

mendable are sad,

In a neal's tongue dried, and a maid pot reaca Because you are not merry : and, 'twere as easy

(Exeunt GRATIANO and LOEZI 20 For you to laugh, and leap, and say, you are Ant. Is that any tbiug bow! merry,

(Janus, Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of sa Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed thing, more than any man in all Venice: Ex Nature bath fram'd strange fellows in her time : seasons are as two grains of wheat bid to Sume that will evermore peep through their bushels of chaff ; you sball seek all day ere yee eyes,

find tbem; and when you bave them they se And laugh, like parrots, at a bagpiper ;

not worth the search. And oiber of such vinegar aspect,

Ant. Well; tell me now, what lady is the That they'll not show their teeth in way of

same smile,

To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage Though Nestor swear the jest be laugbable. Tbat you to-day promis'd to tell me ei ?

Bass, 'Tis not unknown to you, Autonio, Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. How much I have disabled inine e tale, Salan. Here comes Bassanio, your most noble By something showing a more swellie: pert kinsman,

Than my faint means would grant coena saeck: Gratiano, and Lorenzo : Fare you well;

Vor do I now make moan to be abridg'd We leave you now with better company.

From sucb a noble rate ; but my cbici care Salar. I would have staid till I had made you 13, to come fairly off from the great debts, merry,

Wherein my time, something too prodigal, If worthier friends had not prevented me.

Hath left me gaged : To you, Antonio, Ant. Your worth is very dear in my regard. I owe the most, in money, and in love ; I take it, your own business calls on you,

And from your love I have a warranty And you embrace the occasion to depart.

To unburden all my plots and purposes, Salar. Good morrow, my god lords.

How to get clear of all the debts I ore. Bass. Good signiors both, when shall we laugh ? Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, kt me in Say, when?

it; You grow exceeding strange : Must it be so? And, if it stand, as you yourself still do, Sular. We'll make our leisures to attend on Within the eye of honour, be assurd, yours.

My purse, my person, my extremes incans, (Ereunt Salarino and SALANIO. Lie all unlock'd to your occasions. Lor. My lord Bassanio, siuce you bave found Bass. In my school days, when I bad lost eae Antonio,

shaft, We two will leave you : but at diuner time, I shot his fellow of the self-same fibt I pray you, have in mind wbere we must meet. The self-same way, with more advised strong Bass. I will not fail you.

To find the other fortb ; and by advzetor 2017 Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio ;

both, Yon have too much respect upon the world : I oft found both : 1 urg'd this childhood proof, They lose it, what do buy it with inuch care. Because what follows is pure innocence Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd. I owe you much; and, like a wilfol youth, Ant. I hold the world but as the world, Gra- That which I owe is lost: but if yos picase tiano,

To shoot another arrow that seli way A stage, where every man must play a part, Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, And wine a sad one.

As I will watch the aim, or to fud both, Gra. Let me play the Fool :

Or bring your latter hazard back again, With mirth and langhter let old wrinkles come ; And thankfully rest debtor for the ort. And let my liver rather beat with wine,

Ant. You know me well ; and berria sa Than iny heart cool with mortifying groans.

but tiine, Why should a man, whose blood is warm witbin, To wind about my love with circumstance : Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?

And, out of doubt, you do me now more wroty, Sleep when he wakes ? and creep into the jaun. in making question of my uttermost,

dice By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,

• Obstinate silence. I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ;

+ This is an allusion to the puritan prenehen, abe There are a sort of men, wbose visages

being beurails long and testice, rete 03 Stop Du cream and mantle, like a standing pond ;

poue that part of their crave called the cabin, till after diunur.

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