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The Merchant of Venice

by William Shakespeare


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   Not today
From the book:

ANTONIO. In sooth, I know not why I am so sad.

It wearies me; you say it wearies you;

But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,

What stuff 'tis made of, whereof it is born,

I am to learn;

And such a want-wit sadness makes of me

That I have much ado to know myself.

SALERIO. Your mind is tossing on the ocean;

There where your argosies, with portly sail-

Like signiors and rich burghers on the flood,

Or as it were the pageants of the sea-

Do overpeer the petty traffickers,

That curtsy to them, do them reverence,

As they fly by them with their woven wings.

Publication Details

1st World Library


The Merchant of Venice
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