Such harmony is in immortal souls, But whilst this muddy vesture of decay Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. (V.i.)
I am never merry when I hear sweet music. (V.i.)
How far that little candle throws his beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world. (V.i.)
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. (V.i.)
…the moon sleeps with Endymion And would not be awakened! (V.i.)
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… In such a night Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
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 patens of bright gold. There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st But in his motion like an angel sings, Still choiring 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.
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.
There you shall find that Portia was the doctor, Nerissa there her clerk. Lorenzo here Shall witness I set forth as soon as you, And even but now returned. I have not yet Entered my house.—Antonio, you are welcome. And I have better news in store for you Than you expect . . . Unseal this letter soon. There you shall find three of your argosies Are richly come to harbor suddenly.
There do I give to you and Jessica, From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, After his death of all he dies possessed of.