书城公版Merchant of Venice
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第29章

Belmont. Avenue to PORTIA'S house. Enter LORENZO and JESSICA LORENZO The moon shines 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 Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew And saw the lion's shadow ere himself And ran dismay'd 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 gather'd 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 loved 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 hollaing, 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-eyed 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 moved 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 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:

A substitute shines brightly as a king Unto the 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 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, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion And would not be awaked.

Music ceases LORENZO That is the voice, Or I am much deceived, 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'

healths, 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 BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their followers BASSANIO 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 Bassanio so for me:

But God sort all! You are welcome home, my lord. BASSANIO I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend.