What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
They in themselves, good sooth, are too too light.
Why, ’tis an office of discovery, love,
And I should be obscur’d.
Lor.
So are you, sweet,
Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once,
For the close night doth play the runaway,
And we are stay’d for at Bassanio’s feast.
Jes.
I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
With some moe ducats, and be with you straight.
[Exit above.]
Gra.
Now by my hood, a gentle, and no Jew.
Lor.
Beshrow me but I love her heartily,
For she is wise, if I can judge of her,
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true,
And true she is, as she hath prov’d herself;
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
Enter Jessica.
What, art thou come? On, [gentlemen], away!
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
Exit [with Jessica and Salerio].
Enter Antonio.
Ant.
Who’s there?
Gra.
Signior Antonio!
Ant.
Fie, fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest?
’Tis nine a’ clock—our friends all stay for you.
No masque to-night, the wind is come about,
Bassanio presently will go aboard.
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
Gra.
I am glad on’t. I desire no more delight
Than to be under sail, and gone to-night.
Exeunt.
¶
[Scene VII]
[Flourish cornets.] Enter Portia with [the Prince of] Morocco and both their Trains.
Por.
Go, draw aside the curtains and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince.
Now make your choice.
Mor.
This first, of gold, who this inscription bears,
“Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire”;
The second, silver, which this promise carries,
“Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves”;
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
“Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.”
How shall I know if I do choose the right?
Por.
The one of them contains my picture, Prince:
If you choose that, then I am yours withal.
Mor.
Some god direct my judgment! Let me see,
I will survey th’ inscriptions back again.
What says this leaden casket?
“Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.”
Must give—for what? for lead, hazard for lead?
This casket threatens. Men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages;
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
I’ll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead.
What says the silver with her virgin hue?
“Who chooseth me 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 beest 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 farther, but chose here?
Let’s see once more this saying grav’d in gold:
“Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.”
Why, that’s the lady, all the world desires her.
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