PERSONS REPRESENTED. DUKE OF VENICE. PRINCE OF ARRAGON, suitor to Portia. BASSANIO, friend to Antonio. TUBAL, a Jew, friend to Shylock. LAUNCELOT GOBBO, a Clown, servant to Shylock. Old GOBBO, father to Launcelot. LEONARDO, servant to Bassanio. Magnificoes of Venice, Officers of the Court of Justice, Gaoler, Servants to Portia, and Attendants. SCENE,-Partly at VENICE; and partly at BELMONT, the seat of Portia, on the Continent. (18) THE MERCHANT OF ACT I. SCENE I.-Venice. A Street. Enter ANTONIO, SALARINO, and SOLANIO. N sooth, I know not why I am so It wearies me; you say it wearies you; But how I caught it, found it, or came by it, And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, Salar. Your mind is tossing on the ocean; That curtsy to them, do them reverence, The better part of my affections would Peering in maps for ports and piers and 20 And every object that might make me fear Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt, Would make me sad. 30 Salar. And not bethink me straight of dangerous Which, touching but my gentle vessel's side, To think on this; and shall I lack the thought But tell not me; I know Antonio 40 Is sad to think upon his merchandise. Ant. Believe me, no; I thank my fortune for it, My ventures are not in one bottom trusted, Fie, fie! Then let us [easy and 'twere as and say you are [headed Janus, Now, by two- 50 fellows in her [eyes, Some that will evermore peep through their That they'll not show their teeth in way of Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable. Gratiano, and Lorenzo. Fare you well; you merry, If worthier friends had not prevented me. Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO. 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. 60 Salar. Good morrow, my good lords. You grow exceeding strange: must it be so? on yours. [Exeunt SALARINO and SOLANIO. Lor. My lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio, 70 We two will leave you; but at dinner-time I pray you have in mind where we must ineet. Bass. I will not fail you. Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio : A stage, where every man must play a part, Gra. Let me play the Fool: With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; And let my liver rather heat with wine Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster ? |