_Lor._ Well, we will leave you, then, till dinner-time: 105 I must be one of these same dumb wise men, For Gratiano never lets me speak. _Gra._ Well, keep me company but two years moe, Thou shalt not know the sound of thine own tongue. _Ant._ Farewell: I’ll grow a talker for this gear. 110 _Gra._ Thanks, i’faith; for silence is only commendable In a neat’s tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. [_Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo._ _Ant._ Is that any thing now? _Bass._ Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing, more than any man in all Venice. His reasons are as two grains 115 of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff: you shall seek all day ere you find them: and when you have them, they are not worth the search. _Ant._ Well, tell me now, what lady is the same To whom you swore a secret pilgrimage, 120 That you to-day promised to tell me of? _Bass._ ’Tis not unknown to you, Antonio, How much I have disabled mine estate, By something showing a more swelling port Than my faint means would grant continuance: 125 Nor do I now make moan to be abridged From such a noble rate; but my chief care Is, to come fairly off from the great debts, Wherein my time, something too prodigal, Hath left me gaged. To you, Antonio, 130 I owe the most, in money and in love; And from your love I have a warranty To unburden all my plots and purposes How to get clear of all the debts I owe. _Ant._ I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; 135 And if it stand, as you yourself still do, Within the eye of honour, be assured, My purse, my person, my extremest means, Lie all unlock’d to your occasions. _Bass._ In my school-days, when I had lost one shaft, 140 I shot his fellow of the self-same flight The self-same way with more advised watch, To find the other forth; and by adventuring both, I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof, Because what follows is pure innocence. 145 I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth, That which I owe is lost: but if you please To shoot another arrow that self way Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt, As I will watch the aim, or to find both, 150 Or bring your latter hazard back again, And thankfully rest debtor for the first. _Ant._ You know me well; and herein spend but time To wind about my love with circumstance; And out of doubt you do me now more wrong 155 In making question of my uttermost, Than if you had made waste of all I have: Then do but say to me what I should do, That in your knowledge may by me be done, And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak. 160