The Merchant of Venice. Уильям Шекспир
think on this, and shall I lack the thought
That such a thing bechanc’d would make me sad?
But tell not me; I know Antonio
| Is sad to think upon his merchandise. | 40 |
Antonio
Believe me, no; I thank my fortune for it,
My ventures are not in one bottom trusted,
Nor to one place; nor is my whole estate
Upon the fortune of this present year;
| Therefore my merchandise makes me not sad. | 45 |
Solanio
Why then you are in love.
Antonio
Fie, fie!
Solanio
Not in love neither? Then let us say you are sad
Because you are not merry; and ’twere as easy
For you to laugh and leap and say you are merry,
| Because you are not sad. Now, by two-headed Janus, | 50 |
Nature hath fram’d strange fellows in her time:
Some that will evermore peep through their eyes,
And laugh like parrots at a bag-piper;
And other of such vinegar aspect
| That they’ll not show their teeth in way of smile | 55 |
Though Nestor swear the jest be laughable.
[Enter BASSANIO, LORENZO, and GRATIANO.]
Here comes Bassanio, your most noble kinsman,
Gratiano and Lorenzo. Fare ye well;
We leave you now with better company.
Salerio
| I would have stay’d till I had made you merry, | 60 |
If worthier friends had not prevented me.
Antonio
Your worth is very dear in my regard.
I take it your own business calls on you,
And you embrace th’ occasion to depart.
Salerio
| Good morrow, my good lords. | 65 |
Bassanio
Good signiors both, when shall we laugh? Say when.
You grow exceeding strange; must it be so?
Salerio
We’ll make our leisures to attend on yours.
[Exeunt SALERIO and SOLANIO.]
Lorenzo
My Lord Bassanio, since you have found Antonio,
| We two will leave you; but at dinner-time, | 70 |
I pray you, have in mind where we must meet.
Bassanio
I will not fail you.
Gratiano
You look not well, Signior Antonio;
You have too much respect upon the world;
| They lose it that do buy it with much care. | 75 |
Believe me, you are marvellously chang’d.
Antonio
I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano –
A stage, where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.
Gratiano
Let me play the fool.
| With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come; | 80 |
And let my liver rather heat with wine
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man whose blood is warm within
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster,
| Sleep when he wakes, and creep into the jaundice, | 85 |
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio –
I love thee, and ’tis my love that speaks –
There are a sort of men whose visages
Do cream and mantle like a standing pond,
| And do a wilful stillness entertain, | 90 |
With purpose to be dress’d in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say ‘I am Sir Oracle,
And when I ope my lips let no dog bark’.
| O my Antonio, I do know of these | 95 |
That therefore only are reputed wise
For saying nothing; when, I am very sure,
If they should speak, would almost damn those ears
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers fools.
| I’ll tell thee more of this another time. | 100 |
But fish not with this melancholy bait
For this fool gudgeon, this opinion.
Come, good Lorenzo. Fare ye well awhile;
I’ll end my exhortation after dinner.
Lorenzo
| Well, we will leave you then till dinner-time. | 105 |
I must be one of these same dumb wise men,
For Gratiano never lets me speak.
Gratiano
Well, keep me company but two years moe,
Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue.
Antonio
| Fare you well; I’ll grow a talker for this gear. | 110 |
Gratiano
Thanks, i’ faith, for silence is only commendable
In a neat’s tongue dried, and a maid not vendible.
[Exeunt GRATIANO and LORENZO.]
Antonio
Is that anything now?
Bassanio