The Merchant of Venice

shall get as much as he deserves.”
As much as he deserves! Pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand:
If thou be’st rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady:
And yet to be afeard of my deserving
Were but a weak disabling of myself.
As much as I deserve! Why, that’s the lady:
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces and in qualities of breeding;
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray’d no further, but chose here?
Let’s see once more this saying graved in gold
“Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.”
Why, that’s the lady; all the world desires her;
From the four corners of the earth they come,
To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint:
The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia are as thoroughfares now
For princes to come view fair Portia:
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits, but they come,
As o’er a brook, to see fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
Is’t like that lead contains her? ’Twere damnation
To think so base a thought: it were too gross
To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think in silver she’s immured,
Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
A coin that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that’s insculp’d upon;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within. Deliver me the key:
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may! Portia

There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there,
Then I am yours. He unlocks the golden casket.

Morocco

O hell! what have we here?
A carrion Death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll! I’ll read the writing. Reads.

All that glitters is not gold;
Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms enfold.
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgment old,
Your answer had not been inscroll’d:
Fare you well; your suit is cold.

Cold, indeed; and labour lost:
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!

Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets.

Portia

A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go.
Let all of his complexion choose me so. Exeunt.

Scene VIII

Venice. A street.

	Enter Salarino and Salanio.
Salarino	Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail: With him is Gratiano gone along; And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.
Salanio	The villain Jew with outcries raised the duke, Who went with him to search Bassanio’s ship.
Salarino	He came too late, the ship was under sail: But there the duke was given to understand That in a gondola were seen together Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica: Besides, Antonio certified the duke They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
Salanio	I never heard a passion so confused, So strange, outrageous, and so variable, As the dog Jew did utter in the streets: “My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter! Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats! Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter! A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats, Of double ducats, stolen from me by my daughter! And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones, Stolen by my daughter! Justice! find the girl; She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.”
Salarino	Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
Salanio	Let good Antonio look he keep his day, Or he shall pay for this.
Salarino	Marry, well remember’d. I reason’d with a Frenchman yesterday, Who told me, in the narrow seas that part The French and English, there miscarried A vessel of our country richly fraught: I thought upon Antonio when he told me; And wish’d in silence that it were not his.
Salanio	You were best to tell Antonio what you hear; Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
Salarino	A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. I saw Bassanio and Antonio part: Bassanio told him he would make some speed Of his return: he answer’d, “Do not so; Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio But stay the very riping of the time; And for the Jew’s bond which he hath of me, Let it not enter in your mind of love: Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts To courtship and such fair ostents of love As shall conveniently become you there:” And even there, his eye being big with tears, Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, And with affection wondrous sensible He wrung Bassanio’s hand; and so they parted.
Salanio	I think he only loves the world for him. I pray thee, let us go and find him out And quicken his embraced heaviness With some delight or other.
Salarino	Do we so. Exeunt.

Scene IX

Belmont. A room in Portia’s house.

	Enter Nerissa with a Servitor.
Nerissa	Quick, quick, I pray thee; draw the curtain straight: The Prince of Arragon hath ta’en his oath, And comes to his election presently.
	Flourish of cornets. Enter the Prince of Arragon, Portia, and their trains.
Portia	Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince: If you choose that wherein I am contain’d, Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized: But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, You must be gone from hence immediately.
Arragon	I am enjoin’d by oath to observe three things: First, never to unfold to any one Which casket ’twas I chose; next, if I fail Of the right casket, never in my life To woo a maid in way of marriage: Lastly, If I do fail in fortune of my choice, Immediately to leave you and be gone.
Portia	To these injunctions every one doth swear That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
Arragon	And so have I address’d me. Fortune now To my heart’s hope! Gold; silver; and base lead. “Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.” You shall look fairer, ere I give or hazard. What says the golden chest? ha! let me see: “Who