But even when acknowledging that the sentence must be carried out, Portia fought every inch of the way to secure some small concession for the unhappy merchant. Shylock had brought a knife into the court to cut the pound of flesh, and scales to weigh it, but he had provided no surgeon to dress the wound afterwards. Portia begged that he would provide one, if only out of charity. Was it so nominated in the bond? No. Therefore Shylock declined. Not the smallest point would he concede. The bond should be kept to the very letter. Ah, if Shylock had only known what a pitfall he was digging for himself by insisting on this point! In a clear, firm voice Portia began to pronounce sentence. A pound of the merchant’s flesh was Shylock’s; the court awarded it, and the law gave it. The flesh was to be cut off from his breast--(“nearest his heart,” as Shylock had savagely stipulated)--the law allowed it, and the court awarded it. “Most learned judge! A sentence! Come, prepare!” cried Shylock; and, rattling his scales, he darted forward, knife in hand, upon the merchant. But Portia’s voice rang through the court,--“Tarry a little: there is something else!” Shylock stood still, aghast; Antonio’s friends looked up with sudden hope. It was Portia’s turn now to keep to the letter of the law. The bond gave no mention of the word “blood”; the words expressly were “a pound of flesh.” Let Shylock, then, take his bond, his pound of flesh; but if in the cutting it he shed one drop of Christian blood, his lands and goods were, by the laws of Venice, confiscate to the State of Venice. “Is that the law?” gasped Shylock; and Portia answered that he should see the act for himself. As he had urged “justice,” let him be assured he should have justice, more than he desired. “O learned judge!” cried Gratiano, mocking Shylock’s former words of praise. “Mark, Jew, a _learned_ judge!” “Pay the bond thrice and let the Christian go,” said Shylock. “Here is the money,” said Bassanio eagerly; but Portia held up her hand. “Soft! The Jew shall have all justice. Soft, no haste! He shall have nothing but the penalty.” [Illustration: “Tarry a little: there is something else!”] Shylock was to cut off his pound of flesh, but he was to shed no blood. Nor was he to cut more or less than just one pound. If he cut more or less than a just pound--“If the scale turns even by the weight of a hair, thou diest, and all thy goods are confiscate,” pronounced Portia. “Give me my principal, and let me go,” said Shylock. “I have it ready for thee; here it is,” said Bassanio, again holding out the bags of gold; and again Portia stayed him. “He has refused it in the open court; he shall have merely justice and his bond.” “Shall I not have barely my principal?” demanded the cowed Shylock. “Thou shalt have nothing but the forfeiture, to be so taken at thy peril, Jew.”