And such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself. SALARINO 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. SALANIO Believe me,sir,had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad.I should be still Plucking the grass,to know where sits the wind, Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads; And every object that might make me fear Misfortune to my ventures,out of doubt Would make me sad. SALARINO My wind cooling my broth Would blow me to an ague,when I thought What harm a wind too great at sea might do. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, But I should think of shallows and of flats, And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs To kiss her burial.Should I go to church And see the holy edifice of stone, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, And,in a word,but even now worth this. And now worth nothing?Shall I have the thought To think on this,and shall I lack the thought That such a thing bechanced would make me sad? But tell not me;I know,Antonio Is sad to think upon his merchandise ANTONIOAnd such a want-wit sadness makes of me, That I have much ado to know myself. SALARINO 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. SALANIO Believe me, sir, had I such venture forth, The better part of my affections would Be with my hopes abroad. I should be still Plucking the grass, to know where sits the wind, Peering in maps for ports and piers and roads; And every object that might make me fear Misfortune to my ventures, out of doubt Would make me sad. SALARINO My wind cooling my broth Would blow me to an ague, when I thought What harm a wind too great at sea might do. I should not see the sandy hour-glass run, But I should think of shallows and of flats, And see my wealthy Andrew dock'd in sand, Vailing her high-top lower than her ribs To kiss her burial. Should I go to church And see the holy edifice of stone, And not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks, Which touching but my gentle vessel's side, Would scatter all her spices on the stream, Enrobe the roaring waters with my silks, And, in a word, but even now worth this, And now worth nothing? Shall I have the thought To think on this, and shall I lack the thought That such a thing bechanced would make me sad? But tell not me; I know, Antonio Is sad to think upon his merchandise. ANTONIO