Merchant of Venice

Therefore I pray you lead me to the caskets
To try my fortune. By this scimitar
That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince,
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,Anaphora
I would Alliterationo’erstare the sternest eyes that look,
Outbrave the heart most daring on the Earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
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Lancelet
Do you not know me, father?
Gobbo
Alack, sir, I am sandblind. I know you not.
Lancelet
Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might
fail of the knowing me. It is a wise father that
knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you
news of your son.
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Bassanio
Why then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano,
Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice—
Parts that become thee happily enough,
And in such eyes as oursSynecdoche appear not faults.
But where thou art not known—why, there they show
Something too liberal. Pray thee take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
PersonificationThy skipping spirit,
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Gratiano
And it is marvel he outdwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.
Salarino
O, ten times faster Venus’ pigeons fly
To seal love’s bonds new-made than they are wont
To keep obligèd faith unforfeited.
Gratiano
That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
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But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit.
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Beshrew me but I love her heartily,
For she is wise, if I can judge of her,
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true,
And true she is, as she hath proved herself.
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placèd in my constant soul.
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Some god direct my judgment! Let me see.
I will survey th’ inscriptions back again.
What says this leaden casket?
“Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.”Hypophora
Must give—for what? For lead? Hazard for lead?
This casket threatens. Men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages.

Why,
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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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Madam, there is alighted at your gate
A young Venetian, one that comes before
To signify th’ approaching of his lord,
From whom he bringeth sensible regreets;
To wit (besides commends and courteous breath),
Gifts of rich value; yet I have not seen
So likely an ambassador of love.
A day in April never came so sweet,
To show how costly summer was at hand,
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Solanio
Now, what news on the Rialto?
Salarino
Why, yet it lives there unchecked that Antonio
hath a ship of rich lading wracked on the
Narrow Seas—the Goodwins, I think they call the
place—a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the
carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say,
if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.
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