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

One half of me is yours; th' other half yours,
Mine own, I would say: but if mine, then yours;
And fo all yours. Alas! thefe naughty times
Put bars between the owners and their rights:
And fo though yours, not yours.
-Prove it fo,

Let fortune go to hell for it--Not I.

I speak too long, but 'tis to piece the time,
To eke it, and to draw it out in length,
To stay you from election.

BASS. Let me chufe:

For as I am, I live upon the rack.

POR. Upon the rack, Baffanio? then confefs, What treafon there is mingled with your love :

BASS. None, but that ugly treason of mistrust, Which makes me fear th' enjoying of my love: There may as well be amity and life

"Tween fnow and fire, as treafon and my love.

POR. Ay, but I fear, you speak upon the rack; Where men enforced do speak any thing.

BASS. Promife me life, and I'll confefs the truth. POR. Well then, confefs and live.

BASS. Confefs and love,

Had been the very fum of my confeffion.
O happy torment, when my torturer
Doth teach me anfwers for deliverance!
But let me to my fortune and the caskets.

If

POR Away then! I am lockt in one of them; you do love me, you will find me out.

Neriffa, and the rest, stand all aloof,

Let mufick found, while he doth make his choice: Then, if he lofe, he makes a fwan-like end,

Fading in mufick. That the comparison
May stand more juft, my eye shall be the stream
And wat❜ry death-bed for him.—He may win:
And what is mufick then? then mufick is
Even as the flourish, when true fubjects bow
To a new-crowned monarch: fuch it is,
As are those dulcet founds in break of day,
That creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear,
And fummon him to marriage. Now he goes,
With no lefs prefence, but with much more love,
Than young Alcides, when he did redeem
The virgin-tribute, paid by howling Troy
To the fea-monster; I ftand for facrifice,
The reft aloof are the Dardanian wives,
With bleared vifages come forth to view
The iffue of th' exploit. Go, Hercules !
Live thou, I live-With much, much more dismay
I view the fight, than thou, that mak'st the fray.

[Mufick within.

A song, whilst Bassanio, comments on the caskets to himself.

The world is ftill deceiv'd with ornament.
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt,
But being feafon'd with a gracious voice,
Obfcures the fhow of evil? in religion,
What damned error, but some sober brow
Will blefs it, and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grofsnefs with fair ornament?
There is no vice fo fimple, but affumes
Some mark of virtue on its outward parts.
How many cowards, whofe hearts are all as falfe
As ftairs of fand, wear yet upon their chins
The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars;
Who, inward fearcht, have livers white as milk?
And these affume but valour's excrement,
To render them redoubted. Look on beauty,
And you fhall fee 'tis purchas'd by the weight,
Which therein works a miracle in nature,
Making them lighteft, that wear most of it.
So are thofe crispy fnaky golden locks,
Which make fuch wanton gambols with the wind
Upon fuppofed fairness, often known

To be the dowry of a second head,

The skull, that bred them, in the fepulchre,

Thus ornament is but the guiled shore

To a most dang'rous fea; the beauteous scarf
Veiling an Indian beauty; in a word,

The feeming truth which cunning times put on
T'entrap the wifeft. Then, 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 meager lead,
Which rather threatnest, than doft promise aught,

Thy plainness moves me more than eloquence;
And here chufe I. Joy be the confequence !
POR. How all the other paffions fleet to air,
As doubtful thoughts, and rafh embrac'd despair,
And fhudd'ring fear, and green ey'd jealousy.
O love, be moderate, allay thy ecstasy;
In measure rain thy joy, fcant this excess,
I feel too much thy bleffing, make it less,
For fear I furfeit...

BASS. What find I here?

[Opening the leaden casket.

Fair Portia's counterfeit ? what demy-god
Hath come fo near creation? move these eyes?
Or whether riding on the balls, of mine,
Seem they in motion? Here are fever'd lips
Parted with fugar breath; fo fweet a bar

Should funder fuch fweet friends. Here in her hairs
The painter plays the fpider, and hath woven
A golden mesh t' intrap the hearts of men,
Faster than gnats in cobwebs. But her eyes
How could he fee to do them? having made one,
Methinks, it fhould have pow'r to steal both his,
And leave itself unfurnish'd. Yet how far

The substance of my praise doth wrong this fhadow
In underprifing it; fo far this fhadow

Doth limp behind the substance.

Here's the fcrowl,

The continent and fummary of my fortune.

You that chufe not by the view,
Chance as fair, and chufe as true:
Since this fortune falls to you,
Be content, and feek no new.
If you be well pleas'd with this,
And hold your fortune for your bliss,

And claim her with a loving kiss.

A gentle fcrowl-Fair lady, by your leave [Kiffing her. I come by note to give, and to receive.

Like one of two contending in a prize,

That thinks he has done well in people's eyes;
Hearing applause and universal shout,

Giddy in fpirit, gazing still in doubt,
Whether those peals of praise be his or no ;
So (thrice-fair lady) ftand I, even fo,
As doubtful whether what I fee be true,
Until confirm'd, sign'd, ratify'd by you.

POR. You fee me, lord Baffanio, where I ftand,
Such as I am. Tho' for myself alone,

I would not be ambitious in my wish,
To with myself much better; yet for you,
I would be trebled twenty times myself,

A thousand times more fair; ten thousand times
More rich; that, to ftand high in your account,
I might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends,
Exceed account: but the full fum of me

Is fome of fomething, which, to term in gross,
Is an unleffon'd girl, unfchool'd, unpractis'd;
Happy in this, he is not yet fo old

But the may learn; and happier than this,
She is not bred fo dull but she can learn ;
Happiest of all, is, that her gentle fpirit
Commits itself to yours to be directed,
As from her lord, her governor, her king,
Myfelf, and what is mine, to you and yours
Is now converted; but now I was the lord
Of this fair manfion, mafter of my fervants,