SCENE I. Belmont. Avenue to PORTIA'S house. The Merchant of Venice  Shakespeare homepage  |  Merchant of Venice  | Act 5, Scene 1 

 Previous scene  SCENE I. Belmont. Avenue to PORTIA'S house. 

 Enter LORENZO and JESSICA  LORENZO  The moon shines bright: in such a night as this, 

 When the sweet wind did gently kiss the trees 

 And they did make no noise, in such a night 

 Troilus methinks mounted the Troyan walls 

 And sigh'd his soul toward the Grecian tents, 

 Where Cressid lay that night. 

 JESSICA  In such a night 

 Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew 

 And saw the lion's shadow ere himself 

 And ran dismay'd away. 

 LORENZO  In such a night 

 Stood Dido with a willow in her hand 

 Upon the wild sea banks and waft her love 

 To come again to Carthage. 

 JESSICA  In such a night 

 Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs 

 That did renew old AEson. 

 LORENZO  In such a night 

 Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew 

 And with an unthrift love did run from Venice 

 As far as Belmont. 

 JESSICA  In such a night 

 Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well, 

 Stealing her soul with many vows of faith 

 And ne'er a true one. 

 LORENZO  In such a night 

 Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew, 

 Slander her love, and he forgave it her. 

 JESSICA  I would out-night you, did no body come; 

 But, hark, I hear the footing of a man. 



 Enter STEPHANO  LORENZO  Who comes so fast in silence of the night? 

 STEPHANO  A friend. 

 LORENZO  A friend! what friend? your name, I pray you, friend? 

 STEPHANO  Stephano is my name; and I bring word 

 My mistress will before the break of day 

 Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about 

 By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays 

 For happy wedlock hours. 

 LORENZO  Who comes with her? 

 STEPHANO  None but a holy hermit and her maid. 

 I pray you, is my master yet return'd? 

 LORENZO  He is not, nor we have not heard from him. 

 But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica, 

 And ceremoniously let us prepare 

 Some welcome for the mistress of the house. 



 Enter LAUNCELOT  LAUNCELOT  Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola! 

 LORENZO  Who calls? 

 LAUNCELOT  Sola! did you see Master Lorenzo? 

 Master Lorenzo, sola, sola! 

 LORENZO  Leave hollaing, man: here. 

 LAUNCELOT  Sola! where? where? 

 LORENZO  Here. 

 LAUNCELOT  Tell him there's a post come from my master, with 

 his horn full of good news: my master will be here 

 ere morning. 



 Exit  LORENZO  Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming. 

 And yet no matter: why should we go in? 

 My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you, 

 Within the house, your mistress is at hand; 

 And bring your music forth into the air. 



 Exit Stephano  How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! 

 Here will we sit and let the sounds of music 

 Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night 

 Become the touches of sweet harmony. 

 Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven 

 Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: 

 There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st 

 But in his motion like an angel sings, 

 Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins; 

 Such harmony is in immortal souls; 

 But whilst this muddy vesture of decay 

 Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. 



 Enter Musicians  Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn! 

 With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear, 

 And draw her home with music. 



 Music  JESSICA  I am never merry when I hear sweet music. 

 LORENZO  The reason is, your spirits are attentive: 

 For do but note a wild and wanton herd, 

 Or race of youthful and unhandled colts, 

 Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud, 

 Which is the hot condition of their blood; 

 If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound, 

 Or any air of music touch their ears, 

 You shall perceive them make a mutual stand, 

 Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze 

 By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet 

 Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods; 

 Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage, 

 But music for the time doth change his nature. 

 The man that hath no music in himself, 

 Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 

 Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; 

 The motions of his spirit are dull as night 

 And his affections dark as Erebus: 

 Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music. 



 Enter PORTIA and NERISSA  PORTIA  That light we see is burning in my hall. 

 How far that little candle throws his beams! 

 So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 

 NERISSA  When the moon shone, we did not see the candle. 

 PORTIA  So doth the greater glory dim the less: 

 A substitute shines brightly as a king 

 Unto the king be by, and then his state 

 Empties itself, as doth an inland brook 

 Into the main of waters. Music! hark! 

 NERISSA  It is your music, madam, of the house. 

 PORTIA  Nothing is good, I see, without respect: 

 Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day. 

 NERISSA  Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam. 

 PORTIA  The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark, 

 When neither is attended, and I think 

 The nightingale, if she should sing by day, 

 When every goose is cackling, would be thought 

 No better a musician than the wren. 

 How many things by season season'd are 

 To their right praise and true perfection! 

 Peace, ho! the moon sleeps with Endymion 

 And would not be awaked. 



 Music ceases  LORENZO  That is the voice, 

 Or I am much deceived, of Portia. 

 PORTIA  He knows me as the blind man knows the cuckoo, 

 By the bad voice. 

 LORENZO  Dear lady, welcome home. 

 PORTIA  We have been praying for our husbands' healths, 

 Which speed, we hope, the better for our words. 

 Are they return'd? 

 LORENZO  Madam, they are not yet; 

 But there is come a messenger before, 

 To signify their coming. 

 PORTIA  Go in, Nerissa; 

 Give order to my servants that they take 

 No note at all of our being absent hence; 

 Nor you, Lorenzo; Jessica, nor you. 



 A tucket sounds  LORENZO  Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet: 

 We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not. 

 PORTIA  This night methinks is but the daylight sick; 

 It looks a little paler: 'tis a day, 

 Such as the day is when the sun is hid. 



 Enter BASSANIO, ANTONIO, GRATIANO, and their followers  BASSANIO  We should hold day with the Antipodes, 

 If you would walk in absence of the sun. 

 PORTIA  Let me give light, but let me not be light; 

 For a light wife doth make a heavy husband, 

 And never be Bassanio so for me: 

 But God sort all! You are welcome home, my lord. 

 BASSANIO  I thank you, madam. Give welcome to my friend. 

 This is the man, this is Antonio, 

 To whom I am so infinitely bound. 

 PORTIA  You should in all sense be much bound to him. 

 For, as I hear, he was much bound for you. 

 ANTONIO  No more than I am well acquitted of. 

 PORTIA  Sir, you are very welcome to our house: 

 It must appear in other ways than words, 

 Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy. 

 GRATIANO  [To NERISSA]  By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong; 

 In faith, I gave it to the judge's clerk: 

 Would he were gelt that had it, for my part, 

 Since you do take it, love, so much at heart. 

 PORTIA  A quarrel, ho, already! what's the matter? 

 GRATIANO  About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring 

 That she did give me, whose posy was 

 For all the world like cutler's poetry 

 Upon  a knife, 'Love me, and leave me not.' 

 NERISSA  What talk you of the posy or the value? 

 You swore to me, when I did give it you, 

 That you would wear it till your hour of death 

 And that it should lie with you in your grave: 

 Though not for me, yet for your vehement oaths, 

 You should have been respective and have kept it. 

 Gave it a judge's clerk! no, God's my judge, 

 The clerk will ne'er wear hair on's face that had it. 

 GRATIANO  He will, an if he live to be a man. 

 NERISSA  Ay, if a woman live to be a man. 

 GRATIANO  Now, by this hand, I gave it to a youth, 

 A kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy, 

 No higher than thyself; the judge's clerk, 

 A prating boy, that begg'd it as a fee: 

 I could not for my heart deny it him. 

 PORTIA  You were to blame, I must be plain with you, 

 To part so slightly with your wife's first gift: 

 A thing stuck on with oaths upon your finger 

 And so riveted with faith unto your flesh. 

 I gave my love a ring and made him swear 

 Never to part with it; and here he stands; 

 I dare be sworn for him he would not leave it 

 Nor pluck it from his finger, for the wealth 

 That the world masters. Now, in faith, Gratiano, 

 You give your wife too unkind a cause of grief: 

 An 'twere to me, I should be mad at it. 

 BASSANIO  [Aside]  Why, I were best to cut my left hand off 

 And swear I lost the ring defending it. 

 GRATIANO  My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away 

 Unto the judge that begg'd it and indeed 

 Deserved it too; and then the boy, his clerk, 

 That took some pains in writing, he begg'd mine; 

 And neither man nor master would take aught 

 But the two rings. 

 PORTIA  What ring gave you my lord? 

 Not that, I hope, which you received of me. 

 BASSANIO  If I could add a lie unto a fault, 

 I would deny it; but you see my finger 

 Hath not the ring upon it; it is gone. 

 PORTIA  Even so void is your false heart of truth. 

 By heaven, I will ne'er come in your bed 

 Until I see the ring. 

 NERISSA  Nor I in yours 

 Till I again see mine. 

 BASSANIO  Sweet Portia, 

 If you did know to whom I gave the ring, 

 If you did know for whom I gave the ring 

 And would conceive for what I gave the ring 

 And how unwillingly I left the ring, 

 When nought would be accepted but the ring, 

 You would abate the strength of your displeasure. 

 PORTIA  If you had known the virtue of the ring, 

 Or half her worthiness that gave the ring, 

 Or your own honour to contain the ring, 

 You would not then have parted with the ring. 

 What man is there so much unreasonable, 

 If you had pleased to have defended it 

 With any terms of zeal, wanted the modesty 

 To urge the thing held as a ceremony? 

 Nerissa teaches me what to believe: 

 I'll die for't but some woman had the ring. 

 BASSANIO  No, by my honour, madam, by my soul, 

 No woman had it, but a civil doctor, 

 Which did refuse three thousand ducats of me 

 And begg'd the ring; the which I did deny him 

 And suffer'd him to go displeased away; 

 Even he that did uphold the very life 

 Of my dear friend. What should I say, sweet lady? 

 I was enforced to send it after him; 

 I was beset with shame and courtesy; 

 My honour would not let ingratitude 

 So much besmear it. Pardon me, good lady; 

 For, by these blessed candles of the night, 

 Had you been there, I think you would have begg'd 

 The ring of me to give the worthy doctor. 

 PORTIA  Let not that doctor e'er come near my house: 

 Since he hath got the jewel that I loved, 

 And that which you did swear to keep for me, 

 I will become as liberal as you; 

 I'll not deny him any thing I have, 

 No, not my body nor my husband's bed: 

 Know him I shall, I am well sure of it: 

 Lie not a night from home; watch me like Argus: 

 If you do not, if I be left alone, 

 Now, by mine honour, which is yet mine own, 

 I'll have that doctor for my bedfellow. 

 NERISSA  And I his clerk; therefore be well advised 

 How you do leave me to mine own protection. 

 GRATIANO  Well, do you so; let not me take him, then; 

 For if I do, I'll mar the young clerk's pen. 

 ANTONIO  I am the unhappy subject of these quarrels. 

 PORTIA  Sir, grieve not you; you are welcome notwithstanding. 

 BASSANIO  Portia, forgive me this enforced wrong; 

 And, in the hearing of these many friends, 

 I swear to thee, even by thine own fair eyes, 

 Wherein I see myself-- 

 PORTIA  Mark you but that! 

 In both my eyes he doubly sees himself; 

 In each eye, one: swear by your double self, 

 And there's an oath of credit. 

 BASSANIO  Nay, but hear me: 

 Pardon this fault, and by my soul I swear 

 I never more will break an oath with thee. 

 ANTONIO  I once did lend my body for his wealth; 

 Which, but for him that had your husband's ring, 

 Had quite miscarried: I dare be bound again, 

 My soul upon the forfeit, that your lord 

 Will never more break faith advisedly. 

 PORTIA  Then you shall be his surety. Give him this 

 And bid him keep it better than the other. 

 ANTONIO  Here, Lord Bassanio; swear to keep this ring. 

 BASSANIO  By heaven, it is the same I gave the doctor! 

 PORTIA  I had it of him: pardon me, Bassanio; 

 For, by this ring, the doctor lay with me. 

 NERISSA  And pardon me, my gentle Gratiano; 

 For that same scrubbed boy, the doctor's clerk, 

 In lieu of this last night did lie with me. 

 GRATIANO  Why, this is like the mending of highways 

 In summer, where the ways are fair enough: 

 What, are we cuckolds ere we have deserved it? 

 PORTIA  Speak not so grossly. You are all amazed: 

 Here is a letter; read it at your leisure; 

 It comes from Padua, from Bellario: 

 There you shall find that Portia was the doctor, 

 Nerissa there her clerk: Lorenzo here 

 Shall witness I set forth as soon as you 

 And even but now return'd; I have not yet 

 Enter'd my house. Antonio, you are welcome; 

 And I have better news in store for you 

 Than you expect: unseal this letter soon; 

 There you shall find three of your argosies 

 Are richly come to harbour suddenly: 

 You shall not know by what strange accident 

 I chanced on this letter. 

 ANTONIO  I am dumb. 

 BASSANIO  Were you the doctor and I knew you not? 

 GRATIANO  Were you the clerk that is to make me cuckold? 

 NERISSA  Ay, but the clerk that never means to do it, 

 Unless he live until he be a man. 

 BASSANIO  Sweet doctor, you shall be my bed-fellow: 

 When I am absent, then lie with my wife. 

 ANTONIO  Sweet lady, you have given me life and living; 

 For here I read for certain that my ships 

 Are safely come to road. 

 PORTIA  How now, Lorenzo! 

 My clerk hath some good comforts too for you. 

 NERISSA  Ay, and I'll give them him without a fee. 

 There do I give to you and Jessica, 

 From the rich Jew, a special deed of gift, 

 After his death, of all he dies possess'd of. 

 LORENZO  Fair ladies, you drop manna in the way 

 Of starved people. 

 PORTIA  It is almost morning, 

 And yet I am sure you are not satisfied 

 Of these events at full. Let us go in; 

 And charge us there upon inter'gatories, 

 And we will answer all things faithfully. 

 GRATIANO  Let it be so: the first inter'gatory 

 That my Nerissa shall be sworn on is, 

 Whether till the next night she had rather stay, 

 Or go to bed now, being two hours to day: 

 But were the day come, I should wish it dark, 

 That I were couching with the doctor's clerk. 

 Well, while I live I'll fear no other thing 

 So sore as keeping safe Nerissa's ring. 



 Exeunt 