Go, Hercules!
     Live thou63, I live. With much, much more dismay
     I view the fight than thou that mak’st the fray64.

Here music

A song the whilst Bassanio comments on the caskets to himself

[SINGER]   Tell me where is fancy65 bred,
     Or66 in the heart, or in the head?
     How begot67, how nourishèd?
     Reply, reply.
     It is engendered in the eyes,
     With gazing fed, and fancy dies
     In the cradle71 where it lies.
     Let us all ring fancy’s knell72.
     I’ll begin it—Ding, dong, bell.

ALL   Ding, dong, bell.

BASSANIO   So may the outward shows be least themselves75,
     The world is still76 deceived with ornament.
     In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
     But, being seasoned with a gracious78 voice,
     Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
     What damnèd error, but some sober brow80
     Will bless it and approve81 it with a text,
     Hiding the grossness82 with fair ornament?
     There is no vice so simple83 but assumes
     Some mark of virtue on his84 outward parts;
     How many cowards, whose hearts are all as false
     As stairs of sand, wear yet upon their chins
     The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars87,
     Who, inward searched88, have livers white as milk.
     And these assume but valour’s excrement89
     To render them redoubted90. Look on beauty,
     And you shall see ’tis purchased by the weight,
     Which therein works a miracle in nature,
     Making them lightest93 that wear most of it:
     So are those crispèd94 snaky golden locks
     Which makes such wanton95 gambols with the wind
     Upon supposèd fairness96, often known
     To be the dowry of a second head,
     The skull that bred them in the sepulchre97.
     Thus ornament is but the guilèd99 shore
     To a most dangerous sea, the beauteous scarf
     Veiling an Indian101 beauty; in a word,
     The seeming truth which cunning times put on
     To entrap the wisest. Therefore, then, thou gaudy103 gold,
     Hard food for Midas104, I will none of thee;
     Nor none of thee105, thou pale and common drudge
     ’Tween man and man. But thou, thou meagre lead,
     Which rather threaten’st than dost promise aught,
     Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence,
     And here choose I. Joy be the consequence!

PORTIA   How all the other passions fleet110 to air,

Aside

     As111 doubtful thoughts and rash-embraced despair
     And shudd’ring fear and green-eyed jealousy!
     O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy,
     In measure114 rain thy joy, scant this excess.
     I feel too much thy blessing. Make it less,
     For fear I surfeit116.

BASSANIO   What find I here?

He opens the lead casket

     Fair Portia’s counterfeit118! What demigod
     Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes119?
     Or whether120, riding on the balls of mine,
     Seem they in motion? Here are severed121 lips,
     Parted with sugar breath, so sweet a bar122
     Should sunder123 such sweet friends. Here in her hairs
     The painter plays the spider, and hath woven
     A golden mesh t’entrap the hearts of men
     Faster126 than gnats in cobwebs. But her eyes—
     How could he see to do them? Having made one,
     Methinks it128 should have power to steal both his
     And leave itself unfurnished129. Yet look how far
     The substance130 of my praise doth wrong this shadow
     In underprizing it, so far this shadow
     Doth limp behind the substance. Here’s the scroll,
     The continent133 and summary of my fortune.
     ‘You that choose not by the view

Reads

     Chance as fair135 and choose as true.
     Since this fortune falls to you,
     Be content and seek no new.
     If you be well pleased with this
     And hold your fortune for your bliss,
     Turn you where your lady is
     And claim her with a loving kiss.’
     A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave,
     I come by note143 to give and to receive.
     Like one of two contending in a prize144
     That thinks he hath done well in people’s eyes,
     Hearing applause and universal shout,
     Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt
     Whether those peals of praise be his148 or no,
     So, thrice-fair lady, stand I, even so,
     As doubtful whether what I see be true,
     Until confirmed, signed, ratified151 by you.

PORTIA   You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand,
     Such as I am; though for myself alone
     I would not be ambitious in my wish,
     To wish myself much better, yet for you
     I would be trebled twenty times myself,
     A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich,
     That only to stand high in your account158,
     I might in virtues, beauties, livings159, friends,
     Exceed account160. But the full sum of me
     Is sum of nothing, which to term in gross161
     Is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpractisèd162,
     Happy in this, she is not yet so old
     But she may learn. Happier than this,
     She is not bred so dull but she can learn;
     Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit
     Commits itself to yours to be directed,
     As from her lord, her governor, her king.
     Myself, and what is mine, to you and yours
     Is now converted170. But now I was the lord
     Of this fair mansion, master of my servants,
     Queen o’er myself, and even now, but now,
     This house, these servants and this same myself
     Are yours, my lord. I give them with this ring,
     Which when you part from, lose or give away,
     Let it presage176 the ruin of your love
     And be my vantage177 to exclaim on you.

Puts a ring on his finger

BASSANIO   Madam, you have bereft me of all words,
     Only my blood179 speaks to you in my veins,
     And there is such confusion180 in my powers,
     As after some oration fairly spoke
     By a belovèd prince, there doth appear
     Among the buzzing pleasèd multitude,
     Where every something184 being blent together,
     Turns to a wild185 of nothing, save of joy
     Expressed186 and not expressed. But when this ring
     Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence.
     O, then be bold188 to say Bassanio’s dead!

NERISSA   My lord and lady, it is now our time,
     That190 have stood by and seen our wishes prosper,
     To cry, good joy: good joy, my lord and lady!

GRATIANO   My lord Bassanio and my gentle lady,
     I wish you all the joy that you can wish,
     For I am sure you can wish none194 from me.
     And when your honours mean to solemnize
     The bargain of your faith196, I do beseech you,
     Even197 at that time I may be married too.

BASSANIO   With all my heart, so198 thou canst get a wife.

GRATIANO   I thank your lordship, you have got me one.
     My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours:
     You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid201.
     You loved, I loved, for intermission202
     No more pertains to me, my lord, than you;
     Your fortune stood204 upon the caskets there,
     And so did mine too, as the matter falls205,
     For wooing here until I sweat again,
     And swearing till my very roof207 was dry
     With oaths of love, at last208, if promise last,
     I got a promise of this fair one here
     To have her love, provided that your fortune
     Achieved her mistress.

PORTIA   Is this true, Nerissa?

NERISSA   Madam, it is so213, so you stand pleased withal.

BASSANIO   And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?

GRATIANO   Yes, faith215, my lord.

BASSANIO   Our feast shall be much honoured in your
       marriage.

GRATIANO   We’ll play with them the first boy217 for a thousand
       ducats.

NERISSA   What, and stake down218?

GRATIANO   No, we shall ne’er win at that sport219, and stake down.
     But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel220?
     What, and my old Venetian friend Salerio?

Enter Lorenzo, Jessica and Salerio

BASSANIO   Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither,
     If that the youth223 of my new interest here
     Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave,
     I bid my very225 friends and countrymen,
     Sweet Portia, welcome.

PORTIA   So do I, my lord. They are entirely welcome.

LORENZO   I thank your honour. For my part, my lord,
     My purpose was not to have seen you here,
     But meeting with Salerio by the way,
     He did entreat me, past all saying nay,
     To come with him along.

SALERIO   I did, my lord,
     And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio
     Commends him235 to you.

Gives Bassanio a letter

BASSANIO   Ere I ope236 his letter,
     I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.

SALERIO   Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind,
     Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there
     Will show you his estate240.

[Bassanio] opens the letter

GRATIANO   Nerissa, cheer241 yond stranger, bid her welcome.
     Your hand, Salerio. What’s the news from Venice?
     How doth that royal243 merchant, good Antonio?
     I know he will be glad of our success,
     We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.

SALERIO   I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.

PORTIA   There are some shrewd247 contents in yond same
         paper,
     That steals the colour from Bassanio’s cheek.
     Some dear friend dead, else nothing in the world
     Could turn so much the constitution250
     Of any constant251 man. What, worse and worse?
     With leave252, Bassanio: I am half yourself,
     And I must freely have the half of anything
     That this same paper brings you.

BASSANIO   O sweet Portia,
     Here are a few of the unpleasant’st words
     That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady,
     When I did first impart my love to you,
     I freely told you all the wealth I had
     Ran in my veins. I was a gentleman,
     And then I told you true. And yet, dear lady,
     Rating262 myself at nothing, you shall see
     How much I was a braggart. When I told you
     My state264 was nothing, I should then have told you
     That I was worse than nothing, for indeed,
     I have engaged266 myself to a dear friend,
     Engaged my friend to his mere267 enemy,
     To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady,
     The paper as269 the body of my friend,
     And every word in it a gaping wound,
     Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salerio?
     Hath all his ventures failed? What, not one hit272?
     From Tripolis, from Mexico and England,
     From Lisbon, Barbary274 and India?
     And not one vessel scape the dreadful275 touch
     Of merchant-marring276 rocks?

SALERIO   Not one, my lord.
     Besides, it should appear278, that if he had
     The present279 money to discharge the Jew,
     He280 would not take it. Never did I know
     A creature that did bear the shape of man
     So keen and greedy to confound282 a man.
     He plies the duke at morning and at night,
     And doth impeach284 the freedom of the state,
     If they deny him justice. Twenty merchants,
     The duke himself and the magnificoes286
     Of greatest port287 have all persuaded with him,
     But none can drive him from the envious288 plea
     Of forfeiture289, of justice and his bond.

JESSICA   When I was with him I have heard him swear
     To Tubal and to Chus291, his countrymen,
     That he would rather have Antonio’s flesh
     Than twenty times the value of the sum
     That he did owe him: and I know, my lord,
     If law, authority and power deny not,
     It will go hard with296 poor Antonio.

PORTIA   Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?

BASSANIO   The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
     The best-conditioned299 and unwearied spirit
     In doing courtesies300, and one in whom
     The ancient Roman honour more appears
     Than any that draws breath in Italy.

PORTIA   What sum owes he the Jew?

BASSANIO   For me three thousand ducats.

PORTIA   What, no more?
     Pay him six thousand and deface306 the bond.
     Double six thousand and then treble that,
     Before a friend of this description
     Shall lose a hair through Bassanio’s fault.
     First go with me to church and call me wife,
     And then away to Venice to your friend,
     For never shall you lie by Portia’s side
     With an unquiet soul.