As much as he deserves!--Pause there, Morocco, And weigh thy value with an even hand: If thou be’st 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. 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 stray’d no further, but chose here? 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: ....... Deliver me the key; Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may! PORTIA. There, take it, Prince, and if my form lie there, Then I am yours. [_He unlocks the golden casket._ MOROCCO. What have we here? A carrion Death, within whose empty eye There is a written scroll! I’ll read the writing. [Reads] _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 labor lost; Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!-- Portia, adieu! I have too grieved a heart To take a tedious leave: thus losers part. [_Exit with train._ _Enter Prince of Arragon._ PORTIA. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble Prince; If you choose that wherein I am contain’d, Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemnized: But if you fail, without more speech, my lord, You must be gone from hence immediately. ARRAGON. I am enjoin’d by oath to observe three things: First, never to unfold to any one Which casket ’t was I chose; next, if I fail Of the right casket, never in my life To woo a maid in way of marriage; lastly, If I do fail in fortune of my choice, Immediately to leave you, and be gone. PORTIA. To these injunctions everyone doth swear That comes to hazard for my worthless self. ARRAGON. And so have I address’d me. Fortune now To my heart’s hope!--Gold, silver, and base lead. _Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath._ You shall look fairer, ere I give, or hazard. What says the golden chest? ha! let me see: _Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire._