The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Part 349

Exeunt

ACT V. SCENE I.

Belmont. The garden before PORTIA'S house

Enter LORENZO and JESSICA

LORENZO. The moon s.h.i.+nes bright. In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, And they did make no noise- in such a night, Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls, And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, Where Cressid lay that night.

JESSICA. In such a night Did Thisby fearfully o'ertrip the dew, And saw the lion's shadow ere himself, And ran dismayed away.

LORENZO. In such a night Stood Dido with a willow in her hand Upon the wild sea-banks, and waft her love To come again to Carthage.

JESSICA. In such a night Medea gathered the enchanted herbs That did renew old AEson.

LORENZO. In such a night Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew, And with an unthrift love did run from Venice As far as Belmont.

JESSICA. In such a night Did young Lorenzo swear he lov'd her well, Stealing her soul with many vows of faith, And ne'er a true one.

LORENZO. In such a night Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, Slander her love, and he forgave it her.

JESSICA. I would out-night you, did no body come; But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.

Enter STEPHANO

LORENZO. Who comes so fast in silence of the night?

STEPHANO. A friend.

LORENZO. A friend! What friend? Your name, I pray you, friend?

STEPHANO. Stephano is my name, and I bring word My mistress will before the break of day Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays For happy wedlock hours.

LORENZO. Who comes with her?

STEPHANO. None but a holy hermit and her maid.

I pray you, is my master yet return'd?

LORENZO. He is not, nor we have not heard from him.

But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, And ceremoniously let us prepare Some welcome for the mistress of the house.

Enter LAUNCELOT

LAUNCELOT. Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!

LORENZO. Who calls?

LAUNCELOT. Sola! Did you see Master Lorenzo? Master Lorenzo! Sola, sola!

LORENZO. Leave holloaing, man. Here!

LAUNCELOT. Sola! Where, where?

LORENZO. Here!

LAUNCELOT. Tell him there's a post come from my master with his horn full of good news; my master will be here ere morning.

Exit LORENZO. Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming.

And yet no matter- why should we go in?

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. [Music]

JESSICA. I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

LORENZO. 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 spirit are dull:as night, And his affections dark as Erebus.

Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.

Enter PORTIA and NERISSA

PORTIA. That light we see is burning in my hall.

How far that little candle throws his beams!

So s.h.i.+nes a good deed in a naughty world.

NERISSA. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.

PORTIA. So doth the greater glory dim the less: A subst.i.tute s.h.i.+nes 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!

NERISSA. It is your music, madam, of the house.

PORTIA. Nothing is good, I see, without respect; Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.

NERISSA. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.

PORTIA. The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark When neither is attended; and I think ne 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, ho! The moon sleeps with Endymion, And would not be awak'd. [Music ceases]

LORENZO. That is the voice, Or I am much deceiv'd, of Portia.

PORTIA. He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, By the bad voice.

LORENZO. Dear lady, welcome home.

PORTIA. We have been praying for our husbands' welfare, Which speed, we hope, the better for our words.

Are they return'd?

LORENZO. Madam, they are not yet; But there is come a messenger before, To signify their coming.

PORTIA.. Go in, Nerissa; Give order to my servants that they take No note at all of our being absent hence; Nor you, Lorenzo; Jessica, nor you. [A tucket sounds]

LORENZO. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet.

We are no tell-tales, madam, fear you not.

PORTIA. This night methinks is but the daylight sick; It looks a little paler; 'tis a day Such as the day is when the sun is hid.

Enter Ba.s.sANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their followers

Ba.s.sANIO. We should hold day with the Antipodes, If you would walk in absence of the sun.

PORTIA. Let me give light, but let me not be light, For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, And never be Ba.s.sanio so for me; But G.o.d sort all! You are welcome home, my lord.

Ba.s.sANIO. I thank you, madam; give welcome to my friend.

This is the man, this is Antonio, To whom I am so infinitely bound.

PORTIA. You should in all sense be much bound to him, For, as I hear, he was much bound for you.

ANTONIO. No more than I am well acquitted of.

PORTIA. Sir, you are very welcome to our house.

It must appear in other ways than words, Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.

GRATIANO. [To NERISSA] By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong; In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk.

Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, Since you do take it, love, so much at heart.

PORTIA. A quarrel, ho, already! What's the matter?

GRATIANO. 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.'

NERISSA. 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! No, G.o.d's my judge, The clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that had it.

GRATIANO. He will, an if he live to be a man.

NERISSA. Ay, if a woman live to be a man.

GRATIANO. 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.

PORTIA. You were to blame, I must be plain with you, To part so slightly with your wife's first gift, A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger And so riveted with faith unto your flesh.