_Bass._ None but that ugly treason of mistrust, Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love: There may as well be amity and life 30 ’Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love. _Por._ Ay, but I fear you speak upon the rack, Where men enforced do speak any thing. _Bass._ Promise me life, and I’ll confess the truth. _Por._ Well then, confess and live. _Bass._ ‘Confess,’ and ‘love,’ 35 Had been the very sum of my confession: O happy torment, when my torturer Doth teach me answers for deliverance! But let me to my fortune and the caskets. _Por._ Away, then! I am lock’d in one of them: 40 If you do love me, you will find me out. Nerissa and the rest, stand all aloof. Let music sound while he doth make his choice; Then, if he lose, he makes a swan-like end, Fading in music: that the comparison 45 May stand more proper, my eye shall be the stream, And watery death-bed for him. He may win; And what is music then? Then music is Even as the flourish when true subjects bow To a new-crowned monarch: such it is 50 As are those dulcet sounds in break of day That creep into the dreaming bridegroom’s ear, And summon him to marriage. Now he goes, With no less presence, but with much more love, Than young Alcides, when he did redeem 55 The virgin tribute paid by howling Troy To the sea-monster: I stand for sacrifice; The rest aloof are the Dardanian wives, With bleared visages, come forth to view The issue of the exploit. Go, Hercules! 60 Live thou, I live: with much much more dismay I view the fight than thou that makest the fray. _Music, whilst_ BASSANIO _comments on the caskets to himself_. SONG. Tell me where is fancy bred, Or in the heart or in the head? How begot, how nourished? 65 Reply, reply. It is engender’d in the eye, With gazing fed; and fancy dies In the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy’s knell; 70 I’ll begin it,—Ding, dong, bell. _All._ Ding, dong, bell.