Page:Merchant of Venice (1923) Yale.djvu/52

38

But here an angel in a golden bed

Lies all within. Deliver me the key:

Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!

Por. There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there

Then I am yours.

[He unlocks the golden casket.]

Mor.O hell! what have we here?

A carrion Death, within whose empty eye

There is a written scroll. I'll read the writing.

'All that glisters is not gold;

Often have you heard that told:

Many a man his life hath sold

But my outside to behold:

Gilded tombs do worms infold.

Had you been as wise as bold,

Young in limbs, in judgment old,

Your answer had not been inscroll'd:

Fare you well; your suit is cold.'

Cold, indeed; and labour lost:

Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!

Portia, adieu. I have too griev'd a heart

To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.

Exit [with his Train].

Por. A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains: go.

Let all of his complexion choose me so.

Flo[urish of] Cornets. Exeunt.

Salar. Why, man, I saw Bassanio under sail:

With him is Gratiano gone along;

