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To shoot another arrow that self wayWhich you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,As I will watch the aim, or to find bothOr bring your latter hazard back againAnd thankfully rest debtor for the first.
ANTONIO
You know me well, and herein spend but timeTo wind about my love with circumstance;And out of doubt you do me now more wrongIn making question of my uttermostThan if you had made waste of all I have:Then do but say to me what I should doThat in your knowledge may by me be done,And I am prest unto it: therefore, speak.
BASSANIO
In Belmont is a lady richly left;And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyesI did receive fair speechless messages:Her name is Portia, nothing undervaluedTo Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia:Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth,For the four winds blow in from every coastRenowned suitors, and her sunny locksHang on her temples like a golden fleece;