Act II, Scene ix: Belmont. A room in PORTIA's house.
|
| | 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, andtheir Trains.]
| |
|
|
| | PORTIA: | |
| | Behold, there stand the caskets, noble Prince: | |
| | If you choose that wherein I am contain'd, | |
| | Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd; | |
| | 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 chooseth me shall gain what many men desire.' | |
| | What many men desire! that 'many' may be meant | |
| | By the fool multitude, that choose by show, | |
| | Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach; | |
| | Which pries not to th' interior, but, like the martlet, | |
| | Builds in the weather on the outward wall, | |
| | Even in the force and road of casualty. | |
| | I will not choose what many men desire, | |
| | Because I will not jump with common spirits | |
| | And rank me with the barbarous multitudes. | |
| | Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house; | |
| | Tell me once more what title thou dost bear: | |
| | 'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.' | |
| | And well said too; for who shall go about | |
| | To cozen fortune, and be honourable | |
| | Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume | |
| | To wear an undeserved dignity. | |
| | O! that estates, degrees, and offices | |
| | Were not deriv'd corruptly, and that clear honour | |
| | Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer! | |
| | How many then should cover that stand bare; | |
| | How many be commanded that command; | |
| | How much low peasantry would then be glean'd | |
| | From the true seed of honour; and how much honour | |
| | Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times | |
| | To be new varnish'd! Well, but to my choice: | |
| | 'Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.' | |
| | I will assume desert. Give me a key for this, | |
| | And instantly unlock my fortunes here. | |
|
|
| |
[He opens the silver casket.]
| |
|
|
| | PORTIA: | |
| | Too long a pause for that which you find there. | |
|
|
| | ARRAGON: | |
| | What's here? The portrait of a blinking idiot, | |
| | Presenting me a schedule! I will read it. | |
| | How much unlike art thou to Portia! | |
| | How much unlike my hopes and my deservings! | |
| | 'Who chooseth me shall have as much as he deserves.' | |
| | Did I deserve no more than a fool's head? | |
| | Is that my prize? Are my deserts no better? | |
|
|
| | PORTIA: | |
| | To offend, and judge, are distinct offices, | |
| | And of opposed natures. | |
|
|
| 'The fire seven times tried this; | |
| Seven times tried that judgment is | |
| That did never choose amiss. | |
| Some there be that shadows kiss; | |
| Such have but a shadow's bliss; | |
| There be fools alive, I wis, | |
| Silver'd o'er, and so was this. | |
| Take what wife you will to bed, | |
| I will ever be your head: | |
| So be gone; you are sped.' | |
|
|
| | Still more fool I shall appear | |
| | By the time I linger here; | |
| | With one fool's head I came to woo, | |
| | But I go away with two. | |
| | Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath, | |
| | Patiently to bear my wroth. | |
|
|
| |
[Exit ARAGON with his train.]
| |
|
|
| | PORTIA: | |
| | Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth. | |
| | O, these deliberate fools! When they do choose, | |
| | They have the wisdom by their wit to lose. | |
|
|
| | NERISSA: | |
| | The ancient saying is no heresy: | |
| | 'Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.' | |
|
|
| | PORTIA: | |
| | Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa. | |
|
|
| | SERVANT: | |
| | Where is my lady? | |
|
|
| | PORTIA: | |
| | Here; what would my lord? | |
|
|
| | SERVANT: | |
| | Madam, there is alighted at your gate | |
| | A young Venetian, one that comes before | |
| | To signify th' approaching of his lord; | |
| | From whom he bringeth sensible regreets; | |
| | To wit,—besides commends and courteous breath,— | |
| | Gifts of rich value. Yet I have not seen | |
| | So likely an ambassador of love. | |
| | A day in April never came so sweet, | |
| | To show how costly summer was at hand, | |
| | As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord. | |
|
|
| | PORTIA: | |
| | No more, I pray thee; I am half afeard | |
| | Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee, | |
| | Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him. | |
| | Come, come, Nerissa, for I long to see | |
| | Quick Cupid's post that comes so mannerly. | |
|
|
| | NERISSA: | |
| | Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be! | |
|
|
|
|
|
| |
 |
No Fear English Grammar is a step-by-step guide to English grammar presented in a fresh, lively tutorial.
More...
|
|
|
 |
Understand great writers and their verse in one easy reference with Poetry Classics.
More...
|
|
| |
| |
|
 |
 |
Go to top |
|
|
|
|