Scene VII

[Belmont]

Enter Portia with [the Prince of] Morocco, and both their trains.

PORTIA:

Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince:—
Now make your choice.

PORTIA:

Go, draw the curtains aside, and show
The three chests to this noble prince.
Now, make your choice.

MOROCCO:

The first, of gold, who this inscription bears:
Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men desire.(5)
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?(10)

MOROCCO:

The first, of gold, bears this inscription:
“Who chooses me shall gain what many men desire.”
The second, silver, carries this promise:
“Who chooses me shall get as much as he deserves.”
This third, dull lead, has a warning just as blunt:
“Who chooses me must give and gamble all he has.”
How shall I know if I chose the right one?

PORTIA:

The one of them contains my picture, prince;
If you choose that, then I am yours withal.

PORTIA:

One of them contains my picture, prince;
If you choose that, then I am yours as well.

MOROCCO:

Some god direct my judgment! Let me see.
I will survey the inscriptions back again:
What says this leaden casket:(15)
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;(20)
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:(25)
If thou be'st 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.(30)
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 strayed no further, but chose here?—(35)
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.(40)
The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia:
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spets in the face of heaven, is no bar(45)
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(50)
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,(55)
A coin that bears the figure of an angel,
Stamped 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!(60)

MOROCCO:

Some god direct my judgment! Let me see;
I’ll look over the inscriptions again.
What does this leaden chest say?
'Who chooses me must give and gamble all he has.”
“ Must give”: give what? For lead? Gamble for lead!
This chest threatens; men that gamble everything
Do it in hope of a better advantage:
A golden mind doesn’t stoop to shows of scum;
Then I won’t give or gamble anything for lead.
What does the silver say, with her virgin color?
'Who chooses me shall get as much as he deserves.”
As much as he deserves! Stop there, Morocco,
And consider your value with a balanced hand.
If you are rated by your own opinion,
You do deserve enough, and yet enough
May not extend so far as to include the lady;
And yet to be afraid of my what I think I deserve
Is only a weak opinion of myself.
As much as I deserve! Why, that's the lady:
I was born to deserve her, and also in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding;
But more than these, I do deserve love.
What if I didn’t go any farther, and chose right here?
Let's see this saying engraved in gold once more:
'Who chooses me shall gain what many men desire.”
Why, that's the lady: all the world desires her;
They come from the four corners of the earth,
To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint:
The ancient deserts and the vast wilds
Of wide Arabia are like long highways now
Because princes come to see beautiful Portia:
The ocean, whose ambitious waves
Spit in the face of heaven, is no barrier
To stop the foreign spirits; they only come
To see beautiful Portia as though the ocean was a brook.
One of these three chests contains her heavenly picture.
Is it likely that the lead one holds her picture? It’s damnation
To think such a low thought; it’s too gross
Even to be used as her shroud in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think she's enclosed in the walls of this silver one,
Being worth ten times less than traditional gold?
Oh, sinful thought! There never was so rich a gem
Set in something worse than gold. In England, they have
A coin that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold; but that's engraved on it,
But here, an angel in a golden bed
Lies inside this chest. Give me the key;
I choose here, and be as lucky I as I may!

PORTIA:

There, take it, prince, and if my form lie there,
Then I am yours. [He unlocks the golden casket]

PORTIA:

There, take it, prince, and if my picture lies there,
Then I am yours.

MOROCCO:

O hell! what have we here?
A carrion Death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll? I'll read the writing.(65)

[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 enfold.(70)
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 labour lost:(75)
Then, farewell heat; and welcome frost.—
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave. Thus losers part.

MOROCCO:

Oh, hell! what have we here?
A skull, whose empty eye has
A written scroll in it! I'll read the writing.
“Everything that glitters is not gold,
Often have you heard that told;
Many a man has sold his life
Just to look at my outside:
Gilded tombs wrap around worms.
If you had been as wise as you are bold,
Young in arms and legs, and old in judgment,
Your answer would not have been a scroll:
Goodbye, your search is cold.”
Cold indeed; and waste of work :
Then, goodbye, heat, and welcome, frost!
Portia, goodbye! I have such a very grieving heart
That I won’t leave slowly; losers leave like this.

Exit.

PORTIA:

A gentle riddance:—Draw the curtains, go;—
Let all of his complexion choose me so.(80)

PORTIA:

A gentle clearance. Close the curtains: go.
Let every man like him choose me in the same way.

Exeunt.