PORTIA.  It must not be; there is no power in Venice
    Can alter a decree established: 
    ’Twill be recorded for a precedent;
    And many an error, by the same example,
    Will rush into the state; it cannot be.

SHYLOCK.  A Daniel come to judgement! yea, a Daniel! 
    O wise young judge, how I do honour thee!

PORTIA.  I pray you, let me look upon the bond.

SHYLOCK.  Here ’tis, most reverend doctor, here it is.

PORTIA.  Shylock, there’s thrice thy money offered thee.

SHYLOCK.  An oath, an oath, I have an oath in heaven: 
    Shall I lay perjury upon my soul? 
    No, not for Venice.

PORTIA.  Why, this bond is forfeit: 
    And lawfully by this the Jew may claim
    A pound of flesh, to be by him cut off
    Nearest the merchant’s heart.  Be merciful;
    Take thrice thy money; bid me tear the bond.

SHYLOCK.  When it is paid according to the tenour. 
    It doth appear you are a worthy judge;
    You know the law, your exposition
    Hath been most sound; I charge you by the law,
    Whereof you are a well-deserving pillar,
    Proceed to judgment:  by my soul I swear,
    There is no power in the tongue of man
    To alter me:  I stay here on my bond.

ANTONIO.  Most heartily I do beseech the court
    To give the judgement.

PORTIA.  Why then, thus it is. 
    You must prepare your bosom for his knife.

SHYLOCK.  O noble judge!  O excellent young man!

PORTIA.  For the intent and purpose of the law
    Hath full relation to the penalty,
    Which here appeareth due upon the bond.

SHYLOCK.  ’Tis very true:  O wise and upright judge! 
    How much more elder art thou than thy looks!

PORTIA.  Therefore, lay bare your bosom.

SHYLOCK.  Ay, his breast: 
    So says the bond;—­Doth it not, noble judge? 
    Nearest his heart, those 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 answers, “But little.”  He is prepared for death, and takes leave of Bassanio.  But Shylock is impatient.  “We trifle time,” he cries; “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!