Gratiano is still less complimentary, and attributes the sadness of his friend to the desire to gain the world's opinion for wisdom. The downright unreserved frankness of these men to Antonio is, however, an indirect testimony to the goodness of his heart, and the sweetness of his temper. “Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio; You have too much respect upon the world: They lose it, that do buy it with much care. Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd. A mt. I hold the world but as the world, Gratiano;
A stage, where every man must play a part, And mine a sad one. Gra.
Let me play the Fool : Why should a man, whose blood is warm within, Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster 7 Sleep when he wakes 7 and creep into the jaundice By being peevish There are a sort of men, whose visages Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond ; And do a wilful stillness entertain,
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit ; As who should say, I am Sir Oracle, Amd, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark. +
But fish not with this melancholy bait, For this fool-gudgeon, this opinion.” A most unjust imputation, for there are few characters in
the dramas less self-seeking than that of this princely merchant. The more probable cause of his unexplained melancholy would seem to be that of ennui, arising from unruffled prosperity. Man is not only born to trouble, but a certain amount of it is
good for his mental health. Without some motion of the ele ments, the waters of life stagnate. Antonio's melancholy has its origin in his prosperity, his unselfish disposition, and sweet temper. To have spat upon old Shylock's gaberdine was as little indication of the contrary, as to have kicked a vicious cur, when he was worrying helpless children. He delivered R”
