Array MyBooks Classics - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Illustrated edition (37 plays, 160 sonnets and 5 Poetry Books With Active Table of Contents)

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.

From the four corners of the earth they come

To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint.

The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds

Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now

For princes to come view fair Portia.

The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head

Spets in the face of heaven, is no bar

To stop the foreign spirits, but they come

As o’er a brook to see fair Portia.

One of these three contains her heavenly picture.

Is’t like that lead contains her? ’Twere damnation

To think so base a thought; it were too gross

To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.

Or shall I think in silver she’s immur’d,

Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?

O sinful thought! never so rich a gem

Was set in worse than gold. They have in England

A coin that bears the figure of an angel

Stamp’d in gold, but that’s insculp’d upon;

But here an angel in a golden bed

Lies all within. Deliver me the key.

Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!

Por.

There take it, Prince, and if my form lie there,

Then I am yours.

[He unlocks the golden casket.]

Mor.

O hell! what have we here?

A carrion Death, within whose empty eye

There is a written scroll! I’ll read the writing.

[Reads.]

“All that glisters is not gold,

Often have you heard that told;

Many a man his life hath sold

But my outside to behold.

Gilded [tombs] do worms infold.

Had you been as wise as bold,

Young in limbs, in judgment old,

Your answer had not been inscroll’d.

Fare you well, your suit is cold.”

Cold indeed, and labor lost:

Then farewell heat, and welcome frost!

Portia, adieu. I have too griev’d a heart

To take a tedious leave; thus losers part.

Exit [with his Train].

Por.

A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains, go.

Let all of his complexion choose me so.

Exeunt.

¶

Enter Salerio and Solanio.

Sal.

Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail,

With him is Gratiano gone along;

And in their ship I am sure Lorenzo is not.

Sol.

The villain Jew with outcries rais’d the Duke,

Who went with him to search Bassanio’s ship.

Sal.

He came too late, the ship was under sail,

But there the Duke was given to understand

That in a gondilo were seen together

Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica.

Besides, Antonio certified the Duke

They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

Sol.

I never heard a passion so confus’d,

So strange, outrageous, and so variable

As the dog Jew did utter in the streets.

“My daughter! O my ducats! O my daughter!

Fled with a Christian! O my Christian ducats!

Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!

A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,

Of double ducats, stol’n from me by my daughter!

And jewels, two stones, two rich and precious stones,

Stol’n by my daughter! Justice! find the girl,

She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats.”

Sal.

Why, all the boys in Venice follow him,

Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.

Sol.

Let good Antonio look he keep his day,

Or he shall pay for this.

Sal.

Marry, well rememb’red.

I reason’d with a Frenchman yesterday,

Who told me, in the Narrow Seas that part

The French and English, there miscarried

A vessel of our country richly fraught.

I thought upon Antonio when he told me,

And wish’d in silence that it were not his.

Sol.

You were best to tell Antonio what you hear,

Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.

Sal.

A kinder gentleman treads not the earth.

I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:

Bassanio told him he would make some speed

Of his return; he answered, “Do not so,

[Slubber] not business for my sake, Bassanio,

But stay the very riping of the time;

And for the Jew’s bond which he hath of me,

Let it not enter in your mind of love.

Be merry, and employ your chiefest thoughts

To courtship, and such fair ostents of love

As shall conveniently become you there.”

And even there, his eye being big with tears,

Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,

And with affection wondrous sensible

He wrung Bassanio’s hand, and so they parted.

Sol.

I think he only loves the world for him.

I pray thee let us go and find him out

And quicken his embraced heaviness

With some delight or other.

Sal.

Do we so.

Exeunt.

¶

Enter Nerissa and a Servitor.

Ner.

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 cornets.] Enter [the Prince of] Arragon, his Train, and Portia.

Por.

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.

Ar.

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.

Por.

To these injunctions every one doth swear

That comes to hazard for my worthless self.

Ar.

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: