A line-by-line translation

The Merchant of Venice

The Merchant of Venice Translation Act 3, Scene 2

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Enter BASSANIO, PORTIA, GRATIANO, NERISSA, and all their trains, including a SINGER

PORTIA

[To BASSANIO] I pray you, tarry. Pause a day or two Before you hazard, for in choosing wrong I lose your company. Therefore forbear awhile. There’s something tells me—but it is not love— I would not lose you, and you know yourself Hate counsels not in such a quality. But lest you should not understand me well— And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought— I would detain you here some month or two Before you venture for me. I could teach you How to choose right, but I am then forsworn. So will I never be. So may you miss me. But if you do, you’ll make me wish a sin, That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, They have o'erlooked me and divided me. One half of me is yours, the other half yours— Mine own, I would say. But if mine, then yours, And so all yours. Oh, these naughty times Put bars between the owners and their rights! And so, though yours, not yours. Prove it so. Let Fortune go to hell for it, not I. I speak too long, but ’tis to peize the time, To eke it and to draw it out in length, To stay you from election.

PORTIA

[To BASSANIO] Please, take your time. Wait a day or two before you take the risk, because if you choose incorrectly then you will have to leave me. So wait a while. For some reason—but not because of love—I don't think I'd . It's not hate that would make me feel this way. But just so that I'm clear, even though it's not a young woman's place to speak her thoughts, I would like to keep you here for a month or two before you make your choice. I could tell you what the right casket is, but I've sworn not to. I will never tell you the right choice, so there's a chance you will make the wrong choice. And if you do, you'll make me wish I had sinned and broken my oath not to reveal the correct casket. Darn your eyes—in looking upon me they have divided me in two. One half of me is yours, and the other half is yours—I mean mine. Well, if that half of me is mine, then it is yours, too, so all of me is yours. Oh, it's wrong that you are kept from what is yours! Although I am yours, I am not yet officially yours. Make it so I am. Let Lady Luck go to hell for this game of chance, not me. I'm talking too much, but I'm doing that just to waste time, to draw out the minutes and stretch out the seconds, keeping you from making your decision.

BASSANIO

Let me choose, For as I am, I live upon the rack.

BASSANIO

Let me choose a casket, for as it is right now I am in torture.

PORTIA

Upon the rack, Bassanio? Then confessWhat treason there is mingled with your love.

PORTIA

In torture, Bassanio? Then confess what treason you have committed out of your love.

BASSANIO

None but that ugly treason of mistrust Which makes me fear th' enjoying of my love. There may as well be amity and life 'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love.

BASSANIO

I am guilty of nothing but some mistrust, which makes me worry I may never be able to enjoy my love. Snow and fire go better together than any treason and my love.

PORTIA

Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rackWhere men enforcèd do speak anything.

PORTIA

Yes, but I am worried that you are only saying this because you are being tortured. Men say anything when forced to by torture.

BASSANIO

Promise me life, and I’ll confess the truth.

BASSANIO

Promise me my life and I'll tell you the truth.

PORTIA

Well then, confess and live.

PORTIA

Well then, confess the truth and you will live.

BASSANIO

“Confess and love” Had been the very sum of my confession. O happy torment, when my torturer Doth teach me answers for deliverance! But let me to my fortune and the caskets.

BASSANIO

"Confess and love," yes, that's it. What nice torture, when my torturer tells me the right thing to say to be let go! But now let me try my luck and go to the caskets.

PORTIA

Away, then. I am locked in one of them. If you do love me you will find me out.— Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof. Let music sound while he doth make his choice. Then if he lose he makes a swanlike end, Fading in music. That the comparison May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream And watery deathbed for him. He may win, And what is music then? Then music is Even as the flourish when true subjects bow To a new-crownèd monarch. Such it is As are those dulcet sounds in break of day That creep into the dreaming bridegroom’s ear And summon him to marriage. Now he goes With no less presence but with much more love Than young Alcides, when he did redeem The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy To the sea monster. I stand for sacrifice. The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives, With blearèd visages come forth to view The issue of th' exploit.—Go, Hercules! Live thou, I live. With much, much more dismay I view the fight than thou that makest the fray.

PORTIA

Let's go, then. My picture is locked in one of the caskets. If you truly love me, you will find it. Nerissa and everyone else, stand back. Let some music play while he makes his choice. Then if he loses, he will at least have a swanlike end, dying with a song. To make him really like a swan, I'll cry a river for him to swim and drown in. And if he wins, what will be the point of the music? In that case, the music will be like the flourish that plays when subjects bow to a newly crowned king. The sweet sounds that wake up a dreaming groom at dawn on his wedding day, and announce that his wedding is here. And now he goes to the caskets looking as noble as Hercules, but more loving, when Hercules rescued the Trojan princess from the sea monster. I am like that princess, awaiting death, and these people standing by are like the Trojan wives looking on with teary eyes. Go, my Hercules! If you live, then I live. I am much more troubled here watching you than you are, doing the deed. 

A song, the whilst BASSANIO comments on the caskets to himself

SINGER

[sings] Tell me where is fancy bred. Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourishèd?

SINGER

[Singing]
Tell me where our desires come from:
The heart or the head?
How do they start, how do they grow?

ALL

Reply, reply.

ALL

Answer, answer.

SINGER

[sings] It is engendered in the eyes, With gazing fed, and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy’s knell I’ll begin it.—Ding, dong, bell.

SINGER

[Singing] 
Love starts in the eyes,
And grows with gazing, and it dies
In the cradle where it lies.
Let us all sound love's death knell.
I'll start—Ding, dong, bell.

ALL

Ding, dong, bell.

ALL

Ding, dong, bell.

BASSANIO

So may the outward shows be least themselves. The world is still deceived with ornament. In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil? In religion, What damnèd error, but some sober brow Will bless it and approve it with a text, Hiding the grossness with fair ornament? There is no vice so simple but assumes Some mark of virtue on his outward parts. How many cowards whose hearts are all as false As stairs of sand wear yet upon their chins The beards of Hercules and frowning Mars, Who, inward searched, have livers white as milk, And these assume but valor’s excrement To render them redoubted. Look on beauty, And you shall see ’tis purchased by the weight, Which therein works a miracle in nature, Making them lightest that wear most of it. So are those crispèd snaky golden locks Which maketh such wanton gambols with the wind, Upon supposèd fairness, often known To be the dowry of a second head, The skull that bred them in the sepulcher. Thus ornament is but the guilèd shore To a most dangerous sea, the beauteous scarf Veiling an Indian beauty—in a word, The seeming truth which cunning times put on To entrap the wisest. Therefore then, thou gaudy gold, Hard food for Midas, I will none of thee. Nor none of thee, thou pale and common drudge 'Tween man and man. But thou, thou meagre lead, Which rather threaten’st than dost promise aught, Thy paleness moves me more than eloquence, And here choose I. Joy be the consequence!

BASSANIO

The appearances of these may be deceiving. The whole world is tricked by fancy appearances. In the court of law, a corrupt and false plea can hide its own evil with a pleasant voice. In religion, a damned mistake can be covered over with the nice show of a blessing and some scripture to justify it. Every vice has some outward appearance of virtue. Many cowards with disloyal hearts have beards like brave Hercules and Mars, the god of war, even though they have no guts and are easily frightened. And think of beauty, which can be bought by the pound in the form of cosmetics, which work miracles on nature, making the women that wear the most of it the most beautiful. The curly golden locks that are tousled in the wind so nicely and seem beautiful often turn out to be a wig, made from a dead person's hair. Appearances are like an inviting shore that leads to a dangerous ocean, a beautiful scarf hiding an actually undesirable Indian "beauty." In short, appearances can be tricky and often deceive even the wisest. Therefore, you gold, the solid metal that Midas couldn't eat, I will have nothing to do with you. And I'll have nothing to do with silver either, that pale metal that men pass between themselves as currency. But you, humble lead, you who threaten more than you promise, your paleness moves me more than I can say, and I choose you. I hope I will be happy with my decision!

PORTIA

[aside] How all the other passions fleet to air, As doubtful thoughts, and rash-embraced despair, And shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy! O love, be moderate. Allay thy ecstasy. In measure rein thy joy. Scant this excess. I feel too much thy blessing. Make it less, For fear I surfeit.

PORTIA

[To herself] All other emotions are flying away—doubt and rash despair, shuddering fear, and green-eyed jealousy! I must moderate my love and restrain my ecstasy. I must rejoice within good measure and not too much. I feel too overjoyed. I must be less joyous, for I fear that I have an excess of happiness.

BASSANIO

[opening the lead casket] What find I here? Fair Portia’s counterfeit! What demigod Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes? Or whether, riding on the balls of mine, Seem they in motion? Here are severed lips, Parted with sugar breath. So sweet a bar Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs, The painter plays the spider and hath woven A golden mesh t' entrap the hearts of men Faster than gnats in cobwebs. But her eyes— How could he see to do them? Having made one, Methinks it should have power to steal both his And leave itself unfurnished. Yet look how far The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow In underprizing it, so far this shadow Doth limp behind the substance. Here’s the scroll, The continent and summary of my fortune. [reads] “You that choose not by the view, Chance as fair and choose as true. Since this fortune falls to you, Be content and seek no new. If you be well pleased with this And hold your fortune for your bliss, Turn you where your lady is And claim her with a loving kiss.” A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave, I come by note to give and to receive. Like one of two contending in a prize That thinks he hath done well in people’s eyes, Hearing applause and universal shout, Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt Whether these pearls of praise be his or no— So, thrice fair lady, stand I even so, As doubtful whether what I see be true Until confirmed, signed, ratified by you.

BASSANIO

[Opening the lead casket] What do I find here? The picture of beautiful Portia! What godly artist has rendered the image so close to real life? Do the eyes in this picture move? Or do they just seem to as I look around? Here are her lips, parted by her sugary breath—that such sweetness should part such sweet friends. Here in her hair, the painter has been like a spider weaving a golden web to trap men's hearts faster than gnats are caught in cobwebs. But her eyes—how could the artist have painted these? Once he made one of them, I think its beauty would have distracted him so that he could not have painted the other. But my praise wrongs this image because my words fall as short of its beauty as it falls short of the real person it depicts. Here's a scroll that summarizes my fortune.

[He reads alo
ud] "You who choose not based on appearances have good luck and chose correct! Since you have gained this fortune, be content and don't seek anything more. If this pleases you well and you are happy with your good fortune, turn to your lady and claim her with a loving kiss." What a nice scroll. Fair lady, if you will permit it, I come to give you a kiss and thus receive you, as this note instructs me. I'm like someone who has competed for a prize and thinks that everyone's applause and shouts are for his success, but isn't quite sure because he's so stunned and isn't certain whether all this praise is for him or not. That's how I feel now, beautiful lady, but three times more intense! I can't be sure of whether what I see is true until it is confirmed, signed, and ratified by you.

PORTIA

You see me, Lord Bassanio, where I stand Such as I am. Though for myself alone I would not be ambitious in my wish To wish myself much better, yet for you I would be trebled twenty times myself— A thousand times more fair, ten thousand times more rich— That only to stand high in your account I might in virtue, beauties, livings, friends Exceed account. But the full sum of me Is sum of something which, to term in gross, Is an unlessoned girl, unschooled, unpracticèd; Happy in this—she is not yet so old But she may learn. Happier than this— She is not bred so dull but she can learn. Happiest of all is that her gentle spirit Commits itself to yours to be directed As from her lord, her governor, her king. Myself and what is mine to you and yours Is now converted. But now I was the lord Of this fair mansion, master of my servants, Queen o'er myself. And even now, but now, This house, these servants, and this same myself Are yours, my lord’s. I give them with this ring, Which when you part from, lose, or give away, Let it presage the ruin of your love And be my vantage to exclaim on you. [gives BASSANIO a ring]

PORTIA

You see me as I am, standing here, Lord Bassanio. I wish I were twenty times better than myself. I wouldn't be so ambitious as to wish that just for myself, but for you I would, and I would wish I were a thousand times more beautiful, and ten thousand times richer. I wish I could be infinitely good in virtue, beauty, wealth, and friends only so that you would think highly of me. But all you get in me is an inexperienced girl, unschooled, naive. But at least you are getting a girl who is not too old to learn, and one who is not so stupid that she cannot learn. Best of all for you, you are getting a girl whose gentle spirit is fully committed to yours and is willing to be directed by you as if by her lord, her governor, or her king. Myself and all that is mine is now yours. Just a minute ago I was in charge of this beautiful mansion, all its servants, and myself, as well. And now this house, these servants, and myself are all yours, my lord's. I give them to you along with this ring. Don't ever lose it or give it away, or else that will be the sign of the ruin of your love and will give me reason to scold you.

[She gives BASSANIO a ring.]

BASSANIO

Madam, you have bereft me of all words. Only my blood speaks to you in my veins. And there is such confusion in my powers As after some oration fairly spoke By a belovèd prince there doth appear Among the buzzing pleasèd multitude, Where every something, being blent together, Turns to a wild of nothing, save of joy, Expressed and not expressed. But when this ring Parts from this finger, then parts life from hence. O, then be bold to say Bassanio’s dead!

BASSANIO

Madam, I don't know what to say, but the very blood in my veins speaks to you. And I am as dumbfounded as a buzzing crowd after listening to a brilliant speech by a beloved prince, when everything seems to blend together in unexpressed and expressed joy. When this ring leaves this finger, then life will leave me. When you see this ring off my finger, feel free to say that Bassanio is dead!

NERISSA

My lord and lady, it is now our time,That have stood by and seen our wishes prosper,To cry, “Good joy, good joy, my lord and lady!”

NERISSA

My lord and lady, it is now time for those of us who have stood by here and seen our wishes come true, to cry out, "Good joy, good joy, my lord and lady!"

GRATIANO

My Lord Bassanio and my gentle lady, I wish you all the joy that you can wish, For I am sure you can wish none from me. And when your honors mean to solemnize The bargain of your faith, I do beseech you Even at that time I may be married too.

GRATIANO

My Lord Bassanio and my gentle lady, I wish you all the joy that I can wish you, so that there's none left for you to wish for from me. And when you have your wedding ceremony to solidify your union, I beg that I may be married at the same time.

BASSANIO

With all my heart, so thou canst get a wife.

BASSANIO

With all my heart, I say yes, if you can find a wife.

GRATIANO

I thank your lordship, you have got me one. My eyes, my lord, can look as swift as yours. You saw the mistress, I beheld the maid. You loved, I loved. For intermission No more pertains to me, my lord, than you. Your fortune stood upon the casket there, And so did mine too, as the matter falls. For wooing here until I sweat again, And swearing till my very roof was dry With oaths of love, at last—if promise last— I got a promise of this fair one here To have her love, provided that your fortune Achieved her mistress.

GRATIANO

I thank you, my lord, because you have found me one. My eyes are as quick as yours, my lord. While you were looking at the mistress, I was watching her maid. You fell in love, and so did I. Just like you, I don't want to wait. Your fortune depended on the casket there, and so did mine, as it turns out. While we were standing here, I was wooing and swearing oaths of love until at last this beautiful woman here promised me her love, so long as your luck held out.

PORTIA

Is this true, Nerissa?

PORTIA

Is this true, Nerissa?

NERISSA

Madam, it is, so you stand pleased withal.

NERISSA

Madam, it is true, if you don't mind.

BASSANIO

And do you, Gratiano, mean good faith?

BASSANIO

And are you being sincere and honest, Gratiano?

GRATIANO

Yes, faith, my lord.

GRATIANO

Yes, truly, my lord.

BASSANIO

Our feast shall be much honored in your marriage.

BASSANIO

It will be our honor to celebrate your marriage, as well, at our wedding feast.

GRATIANO

[to NERISSA] We’ll play with them the first boy for a thousand ducats.

GRATIANO

[To Nerissa] We can bet them a thousand ducats that we'll have a son before they do.

NERISSA

What, and stake down?

NERISSA

You want to stake down that money now?

GRATIANO

No, we shall ne'er win at that sport and stake down. But who comes here? Lorenzo and his infidel? What, and my old Venetian friend Salerio?

GRATIANO

No, we'll never win the bet if I stake down. But who is this coming here? Lorenzo and his un-Christian friend? What's this, and Salerio, too, my old friend from Venice?

Enter LORENZO, JESSICA, and SALERIO, a messenger from Venice

BASSANIO

Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome hither, If that the youth of my new interest here Have power to bid you welcome. [to PORTIA] By your leave, I bid my very friends and countrymen, Sweet Portia, welcome.

BASSANIO

Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome, if I can welcome you here so soon after winning ownership of this place.

[To Portia] With your permission, I bid my friends and countrymen welcome, Sweet Portia.

PORTIA

So do I, my lord.They are entirely welcome.

PORTIA

And so do I, my lord. They are entirely welcome.

LORENZO

[to BASSANIO] I thank your honor. For my part, my lord, My purpose was not to have seen you here. But meeting with Salerio by the way, He did entreat me, past all saying nay, To come with him along.

LORENZO

[To BASSANIO] Thank you, your honor. I didn't actually intend to come see you here, my lord, but I ran into Salerio on the way, and he begged me to come with him and I couldn't refuse.

SALERIO

I did, my lord. And I have reason for it. Signor AntonioCommends him to you. [gives BASSANIO letter]

SALERIO

That's true, my lord, and I have good reason for making him come with me. Sir Antonio sends this to you.

[He gives BASSANIO a letter]

BASSANIO

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

BASSANIO

Before I open this letter, please tell me how my good friend Antonio is doing.

SALERIO

Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind,Nor well, unless in mind. His letter there Will show you his estate.

SALERIO

He's not sick, my lord, unless his mind is sick, but he's not doing well either, unless his mind is doing well. His letter there will show you how he is faring.

BASSANIO opens the letter and reads it

GRATIANO

[indicating JESSICA] Nerissa, cheer yond stranger. Bid her welcome.— Your hand, Salerio. What’s the news from Venice? How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio? I know he will be glad of our success. We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.

GRATIANO

[To JESSICA] Nerissa, cheer up that stranger. Welcome her here. Salerio, let me shake your hand. What's the news from Venice? How is good Antonio, that royal merchant, doing? I know he'll be glad to hear about our romantic successes here. We are like the hero Jason after retrieving the golden fleece.

SALERIO

I would you had won the fleece that he hath lost.

SALERIO

I wish you had won enough to replace what Antonio has lost

PORTIA

There are some shrewd contents in yond same paper That steals the color 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 yourself, And I must freely have the half of anything That this same paper brings you.

PORTIA

There are some serious matters in that letter that are making Bassanio's face go pale. Some close friend of his must have died. Nothing else in the world could affect such a stoic man this much. What could it be, something even worse? If you'll allow it, Bassanio, I am half of you now, and I must bear half of whatever this letter brings you.

BASSANIO

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 myself 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 engaged myself to a dear friend, Engaged my friend to his mere enemy To feed my means. Here is a letter, lady, The paper as the body of my friend, And every word in it a gaping wound, Issuing life blood.— But is it true, Salerio? Have all his ventures failed? What, not one hit? From Tripolis, from Mexico and England, From Lisbon, Barbary, and India? And not one vessel ’scape the dreadful touch Of merchant-marring rocks?

BASSANIO

Sweet Portia, these are some of the most unpleasant words that were ever written on paper. Gentle lady, when I first told you of my love for you, I admitted that the only wealth I had was the blood running through my veins: I was a nobleman by birth. And I spoke truly then. And yet, even saying that I had no money was a bit of braggery, as you will see. When I told you that my estate was worth nothing, I should have told you that it was worth less than nothing, for I am in debt to a dear friend, and put him in debt to his complete enemy in order to support me in coming here. This letter here is like the body of my friend, and every word on it is like a gaping wound, spilling out blood. But is this true, Salerio? Have all of his business ventures failed? Not one was successful? Not the one from Tripoli, or the ones from Mexico and England, the ones from Lisbon, the African coast, or India? Not one of his ships escaped the dreadful rocks that ruin merchants' fortunes?

SALERIO

Not one, my lord. Besides, it should appear that if he had The present money 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.

SALERIO

Not one ship, my lord. And even if Antonio had the money to pay the Jew back, it seems he wouldn't take it. I've never seen an animal in the shape of a man as greedy as him and as eager to spite another man. He pleads his case to the Duke every morning and every night, and says that if he is denied justice it would be a disgrace to the state. Twenty merchants, the Duke himself, and the highest-ranking Venetian noblemen have all tried to persuade him, but no one can change his mind about the matter of his loan, of justice, and what Antonio must forfeit.

JESSICA

When I was with him I have heard him swear To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen, That he would rather have Antonio’s flesh Than twenty times the value of the sum That he did owe him. And I know, my lord, If law, authority, and power deny not, It will go hard with poor Antonio.

JESSICA

When I was with Shylock I heard him swear to his fellow Jews Tubal and Chus that he would rather have Antonio's flesh than twenty times the amount of money Antonio owes him. And I am sure, my lord, that he will take the flesh of poor Antonio if the power and authority of the law allow him to.

PORTIA

Is it your dear friend that is thus in trouble?

PORTIA

Is this man who is in such trouble your dear friend?

BASSANIO

The dearest friend to me, the kindest man, The best conditioned and unwearied spirit In doing courtesies, and one in whom The ancient Roman honor more appears Than any that draws breath in Italy.

BASSANIO

He is my dearest friend, and the kindest man. He has the best, untiring spirit of courtesy and is a better example of ancient Roman honor than any man alive in Italy.

PORTIA

What sum owes he the Jew?

PORTIA

What amount of money does he owe the Jew?

BASSANIO

For me, three thousand ducats.

BASSANIO

Three thousand ducats, on my behalf.

PORTIA

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 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 myself meantime Will live as maids and widows. Come, away! For you shall hence upon your wedding day. Bid your friends welcome, show a merry cheer. Since you are dear bought, I will love you dear. But let me hear the letter of your friend.

PORTIA

What, is that it? Pay him six thousand ducats and scrap the agreement! Double six thousand, and triple it before allowing such a close friend to lose even a hair on account of Bassanio. First go with me to the church so we can finalize our marriage, and then go to Venice to help your friend. You will never lie by my side with a troubled soul. You will have enough gold to pay twenty times this petty debt. Once it is paid off, bring your true friend back with you. My maid Nerissa and I will be as chaste as maids and widows while you are gone. Come on, let's go! You are going to leave me on our very wedding day. Welcome your friends here, and show them a good time. Since it's going to cost me a lot to have you, I will love you a lot. But first let me hear the letter from your friend.

BASSANIO

[reads] “Sweet Bassanio, my ships have all miscarried. 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 I 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.”

BASSANIO

[Reading the letter aloud] "Sweet Bassanio, all my ships have been wrecked. My creditors have become cruel. I don't have much money. I cannot pay the Jew back. And since once the Jew takes the flesh from me I will die, all your debts to me are cleared, if only I can see you before I die. Regardless, enjoy yourself. If your love for me is not enough to make you come to me, then my letter should not be either."

PORTIA

O love, dispatch all business and be gone!

PORTIA

My love, forget about everything else and go!

BASSANIO

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, No rest be interposer ’twixt us twain.

BASSANIO

Since I have your permission to go away, I will hurry. But until I come back, I will not sleep a wink. I won't rest at all until we are reunited.

Exeunt

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Matt cosby
About the Translator: Matt Cosby
Matt Cosby graduated from Amherst College in 2011, and currently works as a writer and editor for LitCharts. He is from Florida but now lives in Portland, Oregon, where he also makes art, plays the piano, and goes to dog parks.