You know I say nothing to him, for he understands not me, nor I him.
What say you then to Falconbridge, the young baron of England
That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman and swore he would pay him again when he was able. I think the Frenchman became his surety and sealed under for another.
What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbor?
Very vilely in the morning, when he is sober, and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is drunk. When he is best he is a little worse than a man, and when he is worst he is little better than a beast.
How like you the young German, the Duke of Saxony’s nephew?
You need not fear, lady, the having any of these lords. They have acquainted me with their determinations, which is indeed to return to their home and to trouble you with no more suit unless you may be won by some other sort than your father’s imposition depending on the caskets.
If he should offer to choose and choose the right casket, you should refuse to perform your father’s will if you should refuse to accept him.
Yes, yes, it was Bassanio—as I think he was so called.
Do you not remember, lady, in your father’s time a Venetian, a scholar and a soldier, that came hither in company of the Marquess of Montferrat?
True, madam. He, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady.
If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good a heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I should be glad of his approach. If he have the condition of a saint and the complexion of a devil, I had rather he should shrive me than wive me.
The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take their leave. And there is a forerunner come from a fifth, the Prince of Morocco, who brings word the prince his master will be here tonight.