“As for those Samnites, and the men of Uzz, That bought my Spanish oils, and wines of Greece, Here have I purst their paltry silverlings, Fie! what a trouble ’tis to count this trash! Give me the merchants of the Indian mines, That trade in metal of the purest gold; The wealthy Moor, that in the eastern rocks Without control can pick his riches up, And in his house keep pearls like pebble stones; Receive them free, and sell them by the weight: Bags of fiery opals, sapphires, amethysts, Jacinths, hard topaz, grass-green emeralds, Beauteous rubies, sparkling diamonds, And seld’ seen costly stones of so great price, As one of them, indifferently rated, And of a caract of this quality May serve, in peril of calamity To rescue great kings from captivity. This is the ware wherein consists my wealth, And thus methinks, should men of judgment frame Their means of traffic from the vulgar trade, And as their wealth increaseth, so inclose Infinite riches in a little room. But now—how stands the wind? Into what corner peers my halcyon’s bill? Ha! to east? yes:—see how stands the vane? East and by south, why then I hope my ships I sent from Egypt, and the bordering isles, Are gotten up by Nilus’ winding banks: Mine argosies from Alexandria, Loaden with spice and silks, now under sail Are smoothly gliding down by Candy shore To Malta, through our Mediterranean sea.” We have, ere this, noted many a merchant (not of Venice) to whom we have mentally applied Salarino’s words to Antonio; and few will grudge the space we here occupy, by a quotation so apt and beautiful:—