Bass.
Lorenzo, and Salanio, welcome hither,
If that the youth of my new interest here
Have pow'r to bid you welcome. By your leave
I bid my very friends and country-men,
(Sweet Portia) welcome.

Por.
So do I, my lord; they are intirely welcome.

Lor.
I thank your honour: for my part, my lord,
My purpose was not to have seen you here,

But meeting with Salanio by the way,
He did intreat me past all saying nay
To come with him along.

Sal.
I did my lord,
And I have reason for't; Signior Anthonio
Commends him to you.

Bass.
Ere I ope his letter,
I pray you tell me how my good friend doth.

Sal.
Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind:
Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there
Will shew you his estate. Bassanio opens the letter.

Gra.
Nerissa, cheer yond stranger. Bid her welcome.
Your hand, Salanio; what's the news from Venice?
How doth that royal merchant, good Anthonio?
I know he will be glad of our success:
We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.

Sal.
Would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.

Por.
There are some shrewd contents in yond same paper,
That steal the colour from Bassanio's cheek:
Some dear friend dead, else nothing in the world
Could turn so much the constitution
Of any constant man. What, worse and worse!
With leave, Bassanio, I am half your self,
And I must have the half of any thing
That this same paper brings you.

Bass.
O sweet Portia!
Here are a few of the unpleasant'st words
That ever blotted paper. Gentle lady,
When I did first impart my love to you,
I freely told you, all the wealth I had
Ran in my veins, I was a gentleman;

And then I told you true; and yet dear lady,
Rating my self at nothing you shall see
How much I was a braggart: when I told you
My state was nothing, I should then have told you,
That I was worse than nothing. For indeed
I have engag'd my self to a dear friend;
Engag'd my friend to his meer enemy,
To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady,
The paper is the body of my friend,
And every word in it a gaping wound,
Issuing life-blood. But is it true, Salanio?
Have all his ventures fail'd? what, not one hit
From Tripolis, from Mexico, from England,
From Lisbon, Barbary, and India?
And not one vessel 'scap'd the dreadful touch
Of merchant-marring rocks?

Sal.
Not one, my lord.
Besides it should appear, that if he had
The present mony to discharge the Jew,
He would not take it. Never did I know
A creature that did bear the shape of man,
So keen and greedy to confound a man.
He plies the Duke at morning and at night,
And doth impeach the freedom of the state,
If they deny him justice. Twenty merchants,
The Duke himself, and the Magnificoes
Of greatest port have all persuaded with him,
But none can drive him from the envious plea
Of forfeiture, of justice, and his bond.

Jes.
When I was with him, I have heard him swear,
To Tuball and to Chus his country-men,
That he would rather have Anthonio's flesh,
Than twenty times the value of the sum

That he did owe him; and I know, my lord,
If law, authority, and pow'r deny not,
It will go hard with poor Anthonio.

Por.
Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?

Bass.
The dearest friend to me, the kindest man,
The best condition'd and unweary'd spirit
In doing courtesies; and one in whom
The ancient Roman honour more appears
Than any that draws breath in Italy?

Por.
What sum owes he the Jew?

Bass.
For me three thousand ducats.

Por.
What, no more?
Pay him six thousand, and deface the bond;
Double six thousand, and then treble that,
Before a friend of this description
Shall lose a hair through my Bassanio's fault.
First go with me to church, and call me wife,
And then away to Venice to your friend:
For never shall you lie by Portia's side
With an unquiet soul. You shall have gold
To pay the petty debt twenty times over.
When it is paid, bring your true friend along.
My maid Nerissa and my self mean time
Will live as maids and widows: come away,
For you shall hence upon your wedding-day.* ^note




But let me hear the letter of your friend.

Bass. reads.

Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarry'd, my creditors grow cruel, my estate is very low, my bond to the Jew is forfeit; and since in paying it it is impossible I should live, all debts are cleared between you and me, if I might

but see you at my death; notwithstanding use your pleasure: if your love do not persuade you to come, let not my letter.

Por.
O love! dispatch all business, and be gone.

Bass.
Since I have your good leave to go away
  I will make haste; but 'till I come again,
No bed shall e'er be guilty of my stay,
  Nor rest be interposer 'twixt us twaine. [Exeunt.

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