The Merchant of Venice: Act 1, Scene 2 Translation

A side-by-side translation of Act 1, Scene 2 of The Merchant of Venice from the original Shakespeare into modern English.

Original Text	Translated Text
Source: Folger Shakespeare Library
Enter Portia with her waiting woman Nerissa. PORTIA By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world. NERISSA You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are. And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that 5 surfeit with too much as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean. Superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer. PORTIA Good sentences, and well pronounced. 10 NERISSA They would be better if well followed. PORTIA If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men’s cottages princes’ palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions. I can easier teach 15 twenty what were good to be done than to be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o’er a cold decree: such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o’er the meshes of good counsel the 20 cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband. O, me, the word “choose”! I may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I dislike. So is the will of a living daughter curbed by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that 25 I cannot choose one, nor refuse none? NERISSA Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men at their death have good inspirations. Therefore the lottery that he hath devised in these three chests of gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his 30 meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come? 35	We now meet Portia, who is complaining to her woman-in-waiting (read: her sidekick), Nerissa, that she's tired of the world. Nerissa points out that being rich doesn't exempt one from problems. Portia retorts that it's easier to give advice than take it. Then she clues us in about why she's so bummed out. It turns out that Portia can neither choose nor refuse a husband, but must instead follow her dead father's will. In this will, he set up a lottery to determine whom Portia would marry. The lottery involves three chests—one gold, one silver, and one lead. Whoever chooses the correct chest gets Portia. Nerissa thinks this whole lottery thing is a really good plan because Portia's father was a virtuous guy. She adds that Portia's complaints about not being able to choose a man are frivolous, and she asks whether Portia likes any of the suitors she's seen so far.
PORTIA I pray thee, overname them, and as thou namest them, I will describe them, and according to my description level at my affection. NERISSA First, there is the Neapolitan prince. PORTIA Ay, that’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but 40 talk of his horse, and he makes it a great appropriation to his own good parts that he can shoe him himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother played false with a smith. NERISSA Then is there the County Palatine. 45 PORTIA He doth nothing but frown, as who should say “An you will not have me, choose.” He hears merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had 50 rather be married to a death’s-head with a bone in his mouth than to either of these. God defend me from these two! NERISSA How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon? 55 PORTIA God made him, and therefore let him pass for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker, but he!—why, he hath a horse better than the Neapolitan’s, a better bad habit of frowning than the Count Palatine. He is every man in no man. If a 60 throstle sing, he falls straight a-cap’ring. He will fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I should marry twenty husbands! If he would despise me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to madness, I shall never requite him. 65 NERISSA What say you then to Falconbridge, the young baron of England? PORTIA You know I say nothing to him, for he understands not me, nor I him. He hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you will come into the 70 court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in the English. He is a proper man’s picture, but alas, who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, 75 and his behavior everywhere. NERISSA What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbor? PORTIA That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, 80 and swore he would pay him again when he was able. I think the Frenchman became his surety and sealed under for another. NERISSA How like you the young German, the Duke of Saxony’s nephew? 85 PORTIA 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. An the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift 90 to go without him. NERISSA 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. PORTIA Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set 95 a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary casket, for if the devil be within and that temptation without, I know he will choose it. I will do anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge. NERISSA You need not fear, lady, the having any of 100 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. 105 PORTIA If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as chaste as Diana unless I be obtained by the manner of my father’s will. I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable, for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence. And I pray God 110 grant them a fair departure!	Portia asks Nerissa to list off each of the suitors so she can scorn them each individually. The Neapolitan prince talks only of his horse, which he can shoe himself to his great pleasure. Portia suggests that his mother must have been unfaithful with a smith who shoed horses. Count Palatine is too gloomy, and the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon, has too many personalities for Portia to make fun of each of them. Nerissa continues to list suitors: Falconbridge, the young English baron, doesn't speak any languages that Portia understands; he lacks Latin, French, and Italian, and Portia herself doesn't speak much English. Also, he has horrible manners and dresses in a hodgepodge of clothes from other countries. As for the Scottish lord, the best Portia can say of him is that he took a punch from the Englishman, and very kindly offered to pay it back with the support of the Frenchman. (This is Shakespeare's way of poking fun of the French, who were always promising to help the Scottish fight against the English.) Finally, Portia rails on a German, nephew of the Duke of Saxony. She doesn't like him when he's sober, but she especially doesn't like him when he's drunk, which is every afternoon. Nerissa consoles Portia by telling her that each of the suitors has told her that they intend to leave soon enough, unless they find some other means of winning Portia's hand (besides the lottery).
NERISSA 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? PORTIA Yes, yes, it was Bassanio—as I think so was he 115 called. NERISSA True, madam. He, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a fair lady. PORTIA I remember him well, and I remember him 120 worthy of thy praise. Enter a Servingman. How now, what news? SERVINGMAN 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 125 word the Prince his master will be here tonight. PORTIA If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good 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 130 he should shrive me than wive me. Come, Nerissa. To Servingman. Sirrah, go before.— Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at the door. They exit.	Portia insists she'll accept no man except as dictated by her father's will. Still, there is one man, Nerissa points out, who wasn't all that bad. Bassanio, a scholar and a soldier who once visited Portia's court, seemed like the marrying type. A servant then enters announcing that the suitors are leaving. Score! And another is on his way in. Rats! It's the Prince of Morocco, and Portia makes a nasty remark about him. Because he's black like "a devil," Portia says she doesn't care if he's a saint—there's no way she wants to marry him. History Snack: In Shakespeare's England, black skin was often associated with the devil. This racist concept emerges in other plays, like Othello and Titus Andronicus. Portia heads off to greet the Moroccan prince with Nerissa. Sheesh. All these suitors are exhausting.

Original Text

Translated Text

Enter Portia with her waiting woman Nerissa.

PORTIA By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary
of this great world.

NERISSA You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries
were in the same abundance as your good fortunes
are. And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that 5
surfeit with too much as they that starve with
nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be
seated in the mean. Superfluity comes sooner by
white hairs, but competency lives longer.

PORTIA Good sentences, and well pronounced. 10

NERISSA They would be better if well followed.

PORTIA If to do were as easy as to know what were
good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor
men’s cottages princes’ palaces. It is a good divine
that follows his own instructions. I can easier teach 15
twenty what were good to be done than to be one of
the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain
may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper
leaps o’er a cold decree: such a hare is madness the
youth, to skip o’er the meshes of good counsel the 20
cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to
choose me a husband. O, me, the word “choose”! I
may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I
dislike. So is the will of a living daughter curbed by
the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that 25
I cannot choose one, nor refuse none?

NERISSA Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men
at their death have good inspirations. Therefore the
lottery that he hath devised in these three chests of
gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his 30
meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be
chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly
love. But what warmth is there in your affection
towards any of these princely suitors that are already
come? 35

We now meet Portia, who is complaining to her woman-in-waiting (read: her sidekick), Nerissa, that she's tired of the world.

Nerissa points out that being rich doesn't exempt one from problems.

Portia retorts that it's easier to give advice than take it. Then she clues us in about why she's so bummed out.

It turns out that Portia can neither choose nor refuse a husband, but must instead follow her dead father's will.

In this will, he set up a lottery to determine whom Portia would marry. The lottery involves three chests—one gold, one silver, and one lead. Whoever chooses the correct chest gets Portia.

Nerissa thinks this whole lottery thing is a really good plan because Portia's father was a virtuous guy. She adds that Portia's complaints about not being able to choose a man are frivolous, and she asks whether Portia likes any of the suitors she's seen so far.

PORTIA I pray thee, overname them, and as thou
namest them, I will describe them, and according
to my description level at my affection.

NERISSA First, there is the Neapolitan prince.

PORTIA Ay, that’s a colt indeed, for he doth nothing but 40
talk of his horse, and he makes it a great appropriation
to his own good parts that he can shoe him
himself. I am much afeard my lady his mother
played false with a smith.

NERISSA Then is there the County Palatine. 45

PORTIA He doth nothing but frown, as who should say
“An you will not have me, choose.” He hears
merry tales and smiles not. I fear he will prove the
weeping philosopher when he grows old, being so
full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had 50
rather be married to a death’s-head with a bone in
his mouth than to either of these. God defend me
from these two!

NERISSA How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le
Bon? 55

PORTIA God made him, and therefore let him pass for
a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a mocker,
but he!—why, he hath a horse better than the
Neapolitan’s, a better bad habit of frowning than
the Count Palatine. He is every man in no man. If a 60
throstle sing, he falls straight a-cap’ring. He will
fence with his own shadow. If I should marry him, I
should marry twenty husbands! If he would despise
me, I would forgive him, for if he love me to
madness, I shall never requite him. 65

NERISSA What say you then to Falconbridge, the young
baron of England?

PORTIA You know I say nothing to him, for he understands
not me, nor I him. He hath neither Latin,
French, nor Italian; and you will come into the 70
court and swear that I have a poor pennyworth in
the English. He is a proper man’s picture, but alas,
who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly
he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy,
his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, 75
and his behavior everywhere.

NERISSA What think you of the Scottish lord, his
neighbor?

PORTIA That he hath a neighborly charity in him, for
he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, 80
and swore he would pay him again when he was
able. I think the Frenchman became his surety and
sealed under for another.

NERISSA How like you the young German, the Duke of
Saxony’s nephew? 85

PORTIA 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. An
the worst fall that ever fell, I hope I shall make shift 90
to go without him.

NERISSA 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.

PORTIA Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray thee set 95
a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the contrary
casket, for if the devil be within and that temptation
without, I know he will choose it. I will do
anything, Nerissa, ere I will be married to a sponge.

NERISSA You need not fear, lady, the having any of 100
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. 105

PORTIA If I live to be as old as Sibylla, I will die as
chaste as Diana unless I be obtained by the manner
of my father’s will. I am glad this parcel of wooers
are so reasonable, for there is not one among them
but I dote on his very absence. And I pray God 110
grant them a fair departure!

Portia asks Nerissa to list off each of the suitors so she can scorn them each individually.

The Neapolitan prince talks only of his horse, which he can shoe himself to his great pleasure. Portia suggests that his mother must have been unfaithful with a smith who shoed horses.

Count Palatine is too gloomy, and the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon, has too many personalities for Portia to make fun of each of them.

Nerissa continues to list suitors: Falconbridge, the young English baron, doesn't speak any languages that Portia understands; he lacks Latin, French, and Italian, and Portia herself doesn't speak much English. Also, he has horrible manners and dresses in a hodgepodge of clothes from other countries.

As for the Scottish lord, the best Portia can say of him is that he took a punch from the Englishman, and very kindly offered to pay it back with the support of the Frenchman. (This is Shakespeare's way of poking fun of the French, who were always promising to help the Scottish fight against the English.)

Finally, Portia rails on a German, nephew of the Duke of Saxony. She doesn't like him when he's sober, but she especially doesn't like him when he's drunk, which is every afternoon.

Nerissa consoles Portia by telling her that each of the suitors has told her that they intend to leave soon enough, unless they find some other means of winning Portia's hand (besides the lottery).

NERISSA 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?

PORTIA Yes, yes, it was Bassanio—as I think so was he 115
called.

NERISSA True, madam. He, of all the men that ever my
foolish eyes looked upon, was the best deserving a
fair lady.

PORTIA I remember him well, and I remember him 120
worthy of thy praise.

Enter a Servingman.

How now, what news?

SERVINGMAN 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 125
word the Prince his master will be here tonight.

PORTIA If I could bid the fifth welcome with so good
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 130
he should shrive me than wive me.
Come, Nerissa. To Servingman. Sirrah, go before.—
Whiles we shut the gate upon one wooer, another
knocks at the door.

They exit.

Portia insists she'll accept no man except as dictated by her father's will.

Still, there is one man, Nerissa points out, who wasn't all that bad. Bassanio, a scholar and a soldier who once visited Portia's court, seemed like the marrying type.

A servant then enters announcing that the suitors are leaving. Score!

And another is on his way in. Rats! It's the Prince of Morocco, and Portia makes a nasty remark about him. Because he's black like "a devil," Portia says she doesn't care if he's a saint—there's no way she wants to marry him.

History Snack: In Shakespeare's England, black skin was often associated with the devil. This racist concept emerges in other plays, like Othello and Titus Andronicus.

Portia heads off to greet the Moroccan prince with Nerissa. Sheesh. All these suitors are exhausting.

The Merchant of Venice: Act 1, Scene 2 Translation

A side-by-side translation of Act 1, Scene 2 of The Merchant of Venice from the original Shakespeare into modern English.

Original Text

Translated Text

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