William Shakespeare: The Merchant of Venice

ACT 2. SCENE 7. Belmont. A room in PORTIA's house. (continued)

PORTIA.
There, take it, prince, and if my form lie there,
Then I am yours.

[He unlocks the golden casket.]

PRINCE OF MOROCCO.
O hell! what have we here?
A carrion Death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll! I'll read the writing.
/
     '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 labour lost:
   Then, farewell, heat, and welcome, frost!
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave; thus losers part.

[Exit with his train. Flourish of cornets.]

PORTIA.
A gentle riddance. Draw the curtains: go.
Let all of his complexion choose me so.

[Exeunt.]