are the very words.

_Portia._ It is so. Are there balance here, to weigh
The flesh?

_Shylock._ I have them ready.

_Portia._ Have by some surgeon, Shylock, on your charge,
To stop his wounds, lest he do bleed to death.

_Shylock._ Is it so nominated in the bond?

_Portia._ It is not so express'd; but what of that?
'Twere good you do so much for charity.

_Shylock._ I cannot find it; 'tis not in the bond.

_Portia._ Come, merchant, have you anything to say?

_Antonio._ But little: I am arm'd, and well prepar'd.--
Give me your hand, Bassanio: fare you well!
Grieve not that I am fallen to this for you;
For herein Fortune shows herself more kind
Than is her custom: it is still her use
To let the wretched man outlive his wealth,
To view with hollow eye and wrinkled brow
An age of poverty; from which lingering penance
Of such a misery doth she cut me off.
Commend me to your honorable wife:
Tell her the process of Antonio's end;
Say how I lov'd you, speak me fair in death;
And, when the tale is told, bid her be judge
Whether Bassanio had not once a love.
Repent not you that you shall lose your friend,
And he repents not that he pays your debt;
For, if the Jew do cut but deep enough,
I'll pay it instantly with all my heart.

_Bassanio._ Antonio, I am married to a wife
Which is as dear to me as life itself;
But life itself, my wife, and all the world,
Are not with me esteem'd above thy life:
I would lose all, ay, sacrifice them all
Here to this devil, to deliver you.

_Portia._ Your wife would give you little thanks for that,
If she were by, to hear you make the offer.

_Gratiano._ I have a wife, whom, I protest, I love:
I would she were in heaven, so she could
Entreat some power to change this currish Jew.

_Nerissa._ 'Tis well you offer it behind her back;
The wish would make else an unquiet house.

_Shylock._ [_Aside._] These be the Christian husbands! I have a daughter;
Would any of the stock of Barrabas
Had been her husband rather than a Christian!--
[_To_ PORTIA.] We trifle time; I pray thee, pursue sentence.

_Portia._ A pound of that same merchant's flesh is thine:
The court awards it, and the law doth give it.

_Shylock._ Most rightful judge!

_Portia._ And you must cut this flesh from off his breast:
The law allows it, and the court awards it.

_Shylock._ Most learned judge! A sentence!--Come, prepare.

_Portia._ Tarry a little; there is something else.
This bond doth give thee here