ACT V. SCENE I. Lorenzo. The moon shines bright :-In such a night as this, When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees, Jessica. In such a night And ran dismay'd away. Lorenzo. In such a night, Stood Dido, with a willow in her hand Upon the wild sea-banks, and wav'd her love To come again to Carthage. Jessica. In such a night, Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs That did renew old Æson. Lorenzo. In such a night, Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew; And with an unthrift love did run from Venice, Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well; 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 nobody come; But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. Here will we sit, and let the sounds of musick Enter Musicians. Come, ho, and wake Diana with a hymn : With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear, Jessica. I am never merry when I hear sweet musick. For do but note a wild and wanton herd, Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, By the sweet power of musick: Therefore, the poet Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones, and floods; Let no such man be trusted.-Mark the musick. Enter PORTIA and NERISSA at a distance. Portia. 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. Nerissa. When the moon shone, we did not see the candle. Portia. So doth the greater glory dim the less : Until a king be by; and then his state Nerissa. It is your musick, madam, of the house. Nerissa. Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. The nightingale, if she should sing by day, 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. 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. 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. OST potent, grave, and reverend signiors, It is most true; true, I have married her; The very head and front of my offending Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, And little of this great world can I speak, More than pertains to feats of broil and battle; And therefore little shall I grace my cause, In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, What conjuration, and what mighty magic, For such proceeding I am charg'd withal, I won his daughter with. |