To do a great right, do a little wrong,

And curb this cruel devil of his will.

PORTIA. It must not be; there is no power in Venice

Can alter a decree established:

’Twill be recorded for a precedent,

And many an error by the same example

Will rush into the state: it cannot be.

SHYLOCK. A Daniel come to judgment! yea, a Daniel!

O wise young judge, how I do honour thee!

PORTIA. I pray you, let me look upon the bond.

SHYLOCK. Here ’tis, most reverend doctor, here it is.

PORTIA. Shylock, there’s thrice thy money offered thee.

SHYLOCK. An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven:

Shall I lay perjury upon my soul?

No, not for Venice.

PORTIA. Why, this bond is forfeit;

And lawfully by this the Jew may claim

A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off

Nearest the merchant’s heart. Be merciful:

Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.

SHYLOCK. When it is paid according to the tenor.

It doth appear you are a worthy judge;

You know the law, your exposition

Hath been most sound: I charge you by the law,

Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,

Proceed to judgment: by my soul I swear

There is no power in the tongue of man

To alter me: I stay here on my bond.

ANTONIO. Most heartily I do beseech the court

To give the judgment.

PORTIA. Why then, thus it is:

You must prepare your bosom for his knife.

SHYLOCK. O noble judge! O excellent young man!

PORTIA. For the intent and purpose of the law

Hath full relation to the penalty,

Which here appeareth due upon the bond.

SHYLOCK. ’Tis very true: O wise and upright judge!

How much more elder art thou than thy looks!

PORTIA. Therefore lay bare your bosom.

SHYLOCK. Ay, his breast:

So says the bond: doth it not, noble judge?

Nearest his heart: those are the very words.

PORTIA. It is so. Are there balance here to weigh The flesh?

SHYLOCK. I have them ready.

PORTIA. Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge,

To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.

SHYLOCK. Is it so nominated in the bond?

PORTIA. It is not so expressed: but what of that?

’Twere good you do so much for charity.

SHYLOCK. I cannot find it; ’tis not in the bond.

PORTIA. You, merchant, have you anything to say?

ANTONIO. But little: I am armed and well prepared.

Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well!

Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you;

For herein Fortune shows herself more kind

Than is her custom: it is still her use

To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,

To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow

An age of poverty; from which lingering penance

Of such misery doth she cut me off.

Commend me to your honourable wife:

Tell her the process of Antonio’s end;

Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death;

And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge

Whether Bassanio had not once a love.

Repent but you that you shall lose your friend,

And he repents not that he pays your debt;

For if the Jew do cut but deep enough,

I’ll pay it presently with all my heart.

BASSANIO. Antonio, I am married to a wife

Which is as dear to me as life itself;

But life itself, my wife, and all the world,

Are not with me esteemed above thy life:

I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all

Here to this devil, to deliver you.

PORTIA. Your wife would give you little thanks for that,

If she were by, to hear you make the offer.

GRATIANO. I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love:

I would she were in heaven, so she could

Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.

NERISSA. ’Tis well you offer it behind her back;

The wish would make else an unquiet house.

SHYLOCK. These be the Christian husbands. I have a daughter;

Would any of the stock of Barrabas

Had been her husband rather than a Christian!