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, and their trains.

Portia

Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince:

If you choose that wherein I am contained,

Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized:

But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,

You must be gone from hence immediately.

Arragon

I am enjoined 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 addressed 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 the 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 derived corruptly, and that clear honour

Were purchased 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 gleaned

From the true seed of honour! and how much honour

Picked from the chaff and ruin of the times

To be new varnished! 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.

Arragon

What is here?

Reads The fire seven times tried this:

Seven times tried that judgement is,

That did never choose amiss.

Some there be that shadows kiss;

Such have but a shadow's bliss:

There be fools alive, Iwis,

Silvered 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. Exeunt Arragon and train.

Portia

Thus hath the candle singed 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. Enter a Servant.

Messenger

Where is my lady?

Portia

Here: what would my lord?

Messenger

Madam, there is alighted at your gate

A young Venetian, one that comes before

To signify the 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! Exeunt.