Nerissa

Portia
By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary
of this great world.
Nerissa
You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries
were in the same abundance as your good fortunes
are. And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that
surfeit with too much as they that starve with
nothing.
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Portia, as Balthazar
You, merchant, have you anything to say?
Antonio
But little. I am armed and well prepared.—
Give me your hand, Bassanio. Fare you well.

Commend me to your honorable wife,
Tell her the process of Antonio’s end,
Say how I loved you, speak me fair in death,
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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.
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Portia
Come on, Nerissa, I have work in hand
That you yet know not of. We’ll see our husbands
Before they think of us.
Nerissa
Shall they see us?
Portia
They shall, Nerissa, but in such a habit
That they shall think we are accomplishèd
With that we lack.
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Portia
That light we see is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
Nerissa
When the moon shone we did not see the candle.

How many things by season seasoned are
To their right praise and true perfection!

Portia
So doth the greater glory dim the less.
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Portia
Nothing is good, I see, without respect.
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
Nerissa
Silence bestows that virtue on it, madam.
Portia
The crow doth sing as sweetly as the lark
When neither is attended, and I think
The nightingale, if she should sing by day
When every goose is cackling,
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Gratiano
My Lord Bassanio gave his ring away
Unto the judge that begged it, and indeed
Deserved it, too. And then the boy, his clerk,
That took some pains in writing, he begged mine,
And neither man nor master would take aught
But the two rings.
Portia
What ring gave you, my lord?
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