SCENE II. Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house. The Merchant of Venice  Shakespeare homepage  |  Merchant of Venice  | Act 3, Scene 2 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE II. Belmont. A room in PORTIA'S house. 

 Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and Attendants  PORTIA  I pray you, tarry: pause a day or two 

 Before you hazard; for, in choosing wrong, 

 I lose your company: therefore forbear awhile. 

 There's something tells me, but it is not love, 

 I would not lose you; and you know yourself, 

 Hate counsels not in such a quality. 

 But lest you should not understand me well,-- 

 And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,-- 

 I would detain you here some month or two 

 Before you venture for me. I could teach you 

 How to choose right, but I am then forsworn; 

 So will I never be: so may you miss me; 

 But if you do, you'll make me wish a sin, 

 That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, 

 They have o'erlook'd me and divided me; 

 One half of me is yours, the other half yours, 

 Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, 

 And so all yours. O, these naughty times 

 Put bars between the owners and their rights! 

 And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so, 

 Let fortune go to hell for it, not I. 

 I speak too long; but 'tis to peize the time, 

 To eke it and to draw it out in length, 

 To stay you from election. 

 BASSANIO  Let me choose 

 For as I am, I live upon the rack. 

 PORTIA  Upon the rack, Bassanio! then confess 

 What treason there is mingled with your love. 

 BASSANIO  None but that ugly treason of mistrust, 

 Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love: 

 There may as well be amity and life 

 'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. 

 PORTIA  Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack, 

 Where men enforced do speak anything. 

 BASSANIO  Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth. 

 PORTIA  Well then, confess and live. 

 BASSANIO  'Confess' and 'love' 

 Had been the very sum of my confession: 

 O happy torment, when my torturer 

 Doth teach me answers for deliverance! 

 But let me to my fortune and the caskets. 

 PORTIA  Away, then! I am lock'd in one of them: 

 If you do love me, you will find me out. 

 Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof. 

 Let music sound while he doth make his choice; 

 Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end, 

 Fading in music: that the comparison 

 May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream 

 And watery death-bed for him. He may win; 

 And what is music then? Then music is 

 Even as the flourish when true subjects bow 

 To a new-crowned monarch: such it is 

 As are those dulcet sounds in break of day 

 That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear, 

 And summon him to marriage. Now he goes, 

 With no less presence, but with much more love, 

 Than young Alcides, when he did redeem 

 The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy 

 To the sea-monster: I stand for sacrifice 

 The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives, 

 With bleared visages, come forth to view 

 The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules! 

 Live thou, I live: with much, much more dismay 

 I view the fight than thou that makest the fray. 



 Music, whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to himself  SONG. 

 Tell me where is fancy bred, 

 Or in the heart, or in the head? 

 How begot, how nourished? 

 Reply, reply. 

 It is engender'd in the eyes, 

 With gazing fed; and fancy dies 

 In the cradle where it lies. 

 Let us all ring fancy's knell 

 I'll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell. 

 ALL  Ding, dong, bell. 

 BASSANIO  So may the outward shows be least themselves: 

 The world is still deceived with ornament. 

 In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, 

 But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, 

 Obscures the show of evil? In religion, 

 What damned error, but some sober brow 

 Will bless it and approve it with a text, 

 Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? 

 There is no vice so simple but assumes 

 Some mark of virtue on his 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 Mars; 

 Who, inward search'd, have livers white as milk; 

 And these assume but valour's excrement 

 To render them redoubted! Look on beauty, 

 And you shall see 'tis purchased by the weight; 

 Which therein works a miracle in nature, 

 Making them lightest that wear most of it: 

 So are those crisped snaky golden locks 

 Which make such wanton gambols with the wind, 

 Upon supposed fairness, often known 

 To be the dowry of a second head, 

 The skull that bred them in the sepulchre. 

 Thus ornament is but the guiled shore 

 To a most dangerous sea; the beauteous scarf 

 Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word, 

 The seeming truth which cunning times put on 

 To entrap the wisest. Therefore, thou gaudy gold, 

 Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee; 

 Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge 

 'Tween man and man: but thou, thou meagre lead, 

 Which rather threatenest than dost promise aught, 

 Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence; 

 And here choose I; joy be the consequence! 

 PORTIA  [Aside]  How all the other passions fleet to air, 

 As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, 

 And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy! O love, 

 Be moderate; allay thy ecstasy, 

 In measure rein thy joy; scant this excess. 

 I feel too much thy blessing: make it less, 

 For fear I surfeit. 

 BASSANIO  What find I here? 



 Opening the leaden casket  Fair Portia's counterfeit! What demi-god 

 Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes? 

 Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, 

 Seem they in motion? Here are sever'd lips, 

 Parted with sugar breath: so sweet a bar 

 Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs 

 The painter plays the spider and hath woven 

 A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men, 

 Faster than gnats in cobwebs; but her eyes,-- 

 How could he see to do them? having made one, 

 Methinks it should have power to steal both his 

 And leave itself unfurnish'd. Yet look, how far 

 The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow 

 In underprizing it, so far this shadow 

 Doth limp behind the substance. Here's the scroll, 

 The continent and summary of my fortune. 



 Reads  You that choose not by the view, 

 Chance as fair 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 note, to give and to receive. 

 Like one of two contending in a prize, 

 That thinks he hath done well in people's eyes, 

 Hearing applause and universal shout, 

 Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt 

 Whether these pearls of praise be his or no; 

 So, thrice fair lady, stand I, even so; 

 As doubtful whether what I see be true, 

 Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratified 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 account, 

 I might in virtue, beauties, livings, friends, 

 Exceed account; but the full sum of me 

 Is sum of something, which, to term in gross, 

 Is an unlesson'd girl, unschool'd, unpractised; 

 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 converted: 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 presage the ruin of your love 

 And be my vantage to exclaim on you. 

 BASSANIO  Madam, you have bereft me of all words, 

 Only my blood speaks to you in my veins; 

 And there is such confusion in my powers, 

 As after some oration fairly spoke 

 By a beloved prince, there doth appear 

 Among the buzzing pleased multitude; 

 Where every something, being blent together, 

 Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy, 

 Express'd and not express'd. But when this ring 

 Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence: 

 O, then be bold to say Bassanio's dead! 

 NERISSA  My lord and lady, it is now our time, 

 That 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 none from me: 

 And when your honours mean to solemnize 

 The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you, 

 Even at that time I may be married too. 

 BASSANIO  With all my heart, so 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 maid; 

 You loved, I loved for intermission. 

 No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. 

 Your fortune stood upon the casket there, 

 And so did mine too, as the matter falls; 

 For wooing here until I sweat again, 

 And sweating until my very roof was dry 

 With oaths of love, at last, 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, so you stand pleased withal. 

 BASSANIO  And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith? 

 GRATIANO  Yes, faith, my lord. 

 BASSANIO  Our feast shall be much honour'd in your marriage. 

 GRATIANO  We'll play with them the first boy for a thousand ducats. 

 NERISSA  What, and stake down? 

 GRATIANO  No; we shall ne'er win at that sport, and stake down. 

 But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel? What, 

 and my old Venetian friend Salerio? 



 Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO, a Messenger from Venice  BASSANIO  Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither; 

 If that the youth of my new interest here 

 Have power to bid you welcome. By your leave, 

 I bid my very 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 him to you. 



 Gives Bassanio a letter  BASSANIO  Ere I ope 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 estate. 

 GRATIANO  Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome. 

 Your hand, Salerio: what's the news from Venice? 

 How doth that royal 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 shrewd contents in yon same paper, 

 That steals the colour from Bassanio's cheek: 

 Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world 

 Could turn so much the constitution 

 Of any constant man. What, worse and worse! 

 With leave, 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, 

 Rating myself at nothing, you shall see 

 How much I was a braggart. When I told you 

 My state was nothing, I should then have told you 

 That I was worse than nothing; for, indeed, 

 I have engaged myself to a dear friend, 

 Engaged my friend to his mere enemy, 

 To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady; 

 The paper as the body of my friend, 

 And every word in it a gaping wound, 

 Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salerio? 

 Have all his ventures fail'd? What, not one hit? 

 From Tripolis, from Mexico and England, 

 From Lisbon, Barbary and India? 

 And not one vessel 'scape the dreadful touch 

 Of merchant-marring rocks? 

 SALERIO  Not one, my lord. 

 Besides, it should appear, that if he had 

 The present money to discharge the Jew, 

 He would not take it. Never did I know 

 A creature, that did bear the shape of man, 

 So keen and greedy to confound a man: 

 He plies the duke at morning and at night, 

 And doth impeach the freedom of the state, 

 If they deny him justice: twenty merchants, 

 The duke himself, and the magnificoes 

 Of greatest port, have all persuaded with him; 

 But none can drive him from the envious plea 

 Of forfeiture, of justice and his bond. 

 JESSICA  When I was with him I have heard him swear 

 To Tubal and to Chus, 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 with poor Antonio. 

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

 BASSANIO  The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, 

 The best-condition'd and unwearied spirit 

 In doing courtesies, 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 deface 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. You shall have gold 

 To pay the petty debt twenty times over: 

 When it is paid, bring your true friend along. 

 My maid Nerissa and myself meantime 

 Will live as maids and widows. Come, away! 

 For you shall hence upon your wedding-day: 

 Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer: 

 Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. 

 But let me hear the letter of your friend. 

 BASSANIO  [Reads]  Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all 

 miscarried, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is 

 very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since 

 in paying it, it is impossible I should live, all 

 debts are cleared between you and I, if I might but 

 see you at my death. Notwithstanding, use your 

 pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, 

 let not my letter. 

 PORTIA  O love, dispatch all business, and be gone! 

 BASSANIO  Since I have your good leave to go away, 

 I will make haste: but, till I come again, 

 No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay, 

 No rest be interposer 'twixt us twain. 



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