Enter Portia with the Prince of Morocco and both
their trains. PORTIA
Go, draw aside the curtains and discover
The several caskets to this noble prince. A curtain is drawn. Now make your choice. MOROCCO
This first, of gold, who this inscription bears,
“Who chooseth me shall gain what many men 5
desire”;
The second, silver, which this promise carries,
“Who chooseth me shall get as much as he
deserves”;
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, 10
“Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he
hath.”
How shall I know if I do choose the right? PORTIA
The one of them contains my picture, prince.
If you choose that, then I am yours withal. 15 | At Portia's place in Belmont, Morocco is ready to play "Chest of Fortune." Each of the three chests has a riddle-like inscription. Morocco asks how he'll know if he's chosen the right one, and Portia says there's a picture of her in one of the chests. If he chooses the chest with the picture, he gets the girl and her money. Otherwise, he dies old and alone. |
MOROCCO
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.” 20
Must give—for what? For lead? Hazard for lead?
This casket threatens. Men that hazard all
Do it in hope of fair advantages.
A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross.
I’ll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. 25
What says the silver with her virgin hue?
“Who chooseth me shall get as much as he
deserves.”
As much as he deserves—pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand. 30
If thou beest rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady.
And yet to be afeard of my deserving
Were but a weak disabling of myself. 35
As much as I deserve—why, that’s the lady!
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding,
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I strayed no farther, but chose here? 40
Let’s see once more this saying graved in gold:
“Who chooseth me shall gain what many men
desire.”
Why, that’s the lady! All the world desires her.
From the four corners of the Earth they come 45
To kiss this shrine, this mortal, breathing saint.
The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now
For princes to come view fair Portia.
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head 50
Spets in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits, but they come
As o’er a brook to see fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.
Is ’t like that lead contains her? ’Twere damnation 55
To think so base a thought. It were too gross
To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think in silver she’s immured,
Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
O, sinful thought! Never so rich a gem 60
Was set in worse than gold. They have in England
A coin that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold, but that’s insculped upon;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within.—Deliver me the key. 65
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may. PORTIA
There, take it, prince. Handing him the key. And if
my form lie there,
Then I am yours. Morocco opens the gold casket. MOROCCO O hell! What have we here? 70
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 75
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 enscrolled. 80
Fare you well, your suit is cold."
Cold indeed and labor lost!
Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost.
Portia, adieu. I have too grieved a heart
To take a tedious leave. Thus losers part. 85 He exits, with his train. PORTIA
A gentle riddance! Draw the curtains, go.
Let all of his complexion choose me so. They exit. | Morocco sets about choosing a chest. He goes over each of the inscriptions and reasons to himself. The lead chest asks the man who chooses it to risk everything, which doesn't sound all that appealing. Especially for plain old lead. He decides the silver chest has better promise, as it says he'll get what he deserves in choosing it, and he considers himself very deserving. Indeed, in birth, fortunes, grace, and stature, he deserves Portia. Oh, and of course because of how much he loves her, too. He thinks he could be happy with the silver chest, but...the gold one promises what many men desire. And that could be Portia, seeing as how guys are coming from every corner of the earth to woo her. When it's finally time to choose, Morocco decides lead is too worthless, and silver is of less worth than gold, so gold is the only thing worthy enough to hold Portia's picture. When the Prince opens the golden casket, he hears a game show loser sound. Not really. Actually, he finds a picture a skull and crossbones and a scroll that says "not all that glitters is gold, and you would have realized that if you were a bit wiser." So...Morocco is condemned to a life of solitude. He takes his leave quickly and quietly, and Portia says that she hopes every suitor with his complexion makes the same choice. Mm hm. We've got anti-Semitism and racism in this play. |