I'm asking you, wait—take a day or two Before you choose from these caskets. If you pick the wrong one, I lose you; so please give me a little more time. There's something inside me (but it's not love— I wouldn't lose you, and you know yourself That hatred doesn't offer this kind of counsel. But in case you don't understand what I mean— And a young woman has no way to speak except through her thoughts— I'd like to keep you here for a month or two Before you gamble for me. I could teach you How to choose correctly, but then I'd have broken my word. I will never do that. So I hope you fail the test. But if you do fail, you'll make me wish I'd done something wrong, That I had broken my word. Your eyes have betrayed you— They've made me yours and divided me. One half of me is yours, the other half yours too, Except the part that's my own; but if that's my own, then it's yours, So really it's all yours. O these terrible times That put walls between owners and what they possess! So though you own me, you don't really own me. Make it true— Let Fortune go to hell for this loss, not me. I talk too much, but it's to stretch out the time, To make it longer, and to keep drawing it out, To stop you from making your choice.

Look, I'm begging you—hang on a day or two before you take your shot at those boxes. If you pick wrong, I lose you; I need you to wait a little longer. Something in me doesn't want to lose you—not love exactly, you know how that works. But just hear me out— a woman can't really say what she's thinking out loud— I want to keep you here for a month or two before you risk it for me. Honestly, I could tell you which one to pick, but then I'd be cheating, and I won't do that. So maybe you won't win. But if you don't, you'll make me wish I'd cheated. Your eyes have totally done this to me— made me yours and taken half of me. One half is yours, the other half's yours too, except the part that should be mine, but if it's mine, it's also yours, so it's basically all yours. These are such messed-up times that they put boundaries between you and what's actually yours. So even though you own me, you kind of don't. Make it work— let Fortune pay for this if anyone has to, not you. I'm talking too much, but it's just to waste time, to stretch it out and keep drawing it out, to stop you from choosing.

wait a day or two before you choose, please if you pick wrong i lose you i could tell you which one's right but then i'd be lying your eyes already made me yours all of me is yours now

Let me choose, Because as I am, I'm suffering in torment.

Let me choose now— I'm literally dying of suspense over here.

let me pick i can't take this suspense

Choosing would mean torture, Bassanio! So confess What treason you're mixing together with your love.

If choosing is torture, Bassanio, then come on—tell me what treason is tangled up with your love.

if choosing is torture then tell me what are you keeping from me

Only the ugly betrayal of not trusting you, Which makes me fear I won't get to keep your love. Snow and fire can get along as well as betrayal and my love.

Just that I don't trust myself enough, which makes me scared I'll lose you. You'd have better luck getting snow and fire to be friends than getting mistrust and my love together.

i don't trust myself i'm scared i'll mess this up snow and fire would be friends before my doubt could exist with my love

Yes, but I'm worried you're saying this under torture, Where men who are forced speak anything they're told.

Yeah, but the thing is, under torture guys will say anything. How do I know you're not just saying what I want to hear?

under torture guys say whatever how do i know you mean it

If you promise I'll live, I'll tell you the truth.

Promise me I'll live, and I'll tell you everything true.

promise i'll live and i'll be honest

All right then, confess and you'll live.

Okay, tell me the truth and you're safe.

confess and you live

"Confess and love me" Would have been the whole point of my confession. O what a wonderful torture it is when the one hurting me Teaches me the answer that sets me free! But let me go to my caskets and my fortune.

What I should really be saying is "confess and love me"— that's the only confession I need to make. It's such perfect torture when the person causing me pain actually teaches me how to escape it! But come on, let me go pick my casket.

confess and love me, that's all i'd say it's perfect torture when you show me the way out let me go pick

Away then! I am locked in one of these caskets. If you love me, you will find me. Nerissa and the rest, step aside. Let music sound while he makes his choice. If he loses, he'll make a swan-like end, fading in music. To make the comparison proper, my eyes will be the stream and watery death-bed for him. But he may win. And what is music then? It's like the fanfare when true subjects bow to a newly crowned monarch. It's like those sweet sounds at dawn that creep into the dreaming bridegroom's ear and summon him to marriage. Now he goes with such love, like young Hercules when he rescued the virgin tribute paid by howling Troy to the sea-monster. I stand for sacrifice; the rest stand apart like the Trojan wives with tearstained faces, watching the outcome. Go, Hercules! If you live, I live. I watch this trial with much more fear than you who fight it. Let music play while Bassanio considers the caskets. 'Tell me where fancy is bred, in the heart or in the head? How is it created, how nourished? Answer me, answer me. It is born in the eyes, fed by gazing, and fancy dies in the cradle where it lies. Let us all ring fancy's death knell: I'll begin it. Ding, dong, bell.'

All right, off you go! I'm locked inside one of these caskets. If you really love me, you'll find me. Everyone else, step back. Let the music play while he makes his choice. If he picks wrong, he'll fade away like a dying swan to music. My eyes will be the stream where he drowns. But if he wins, then music becomes like a coronation fanfare for a new king—triumphant and joyful. It sounds like the sweet songs that drift through a bedroom at dawn to wake a new groom on his wedding day. Bassanio steps forward with such love, like Hercules rescuing that innocent girl from Troy who the city had to sacrifice to the sea monster. I'm the one being risked here, and the rest are like the Trojan women, watching what happens. Go on, Hercules! If you succeed, I succeed. I'm more nervous watching this than you are doing it. Now the music plays as he thinks about the caskets, and a song is sung: 'Tell me where love comes from—is it the heart or the head? How does it begin and grow? Tell me, tell me. It starts with the eyes, is fed by looking, and dies in its cradle. Let's ring the death bell for this kind of love: ding, dong, bell.'

i'm locked in one of these caskets if u love me find me everyone step back music while u choose if u lose: fade like a dying swan if u win: coronation fanfare like a groom waking on wedding day u're like hercules rescuing a sacrifice i'm the one being risked if u live i live [song] tell me where love comes from heart or head? how is it born & nourished? it starts in the eyes fed by looking and dies in its cradle ding dong bell

Ding, dong, bell.

Ding, dong, bell.

ding dong bell

So let the outside appearance be the least like the real thing. The world is always tricked by decoration. In law, what argument is so tainted and wrong But, dressed up with a smooth voice, Hides the appearance of evil? In religion, What damned mistake does any serious-looking person Not bless and approve with a Bible passage, Hiding the awfulness with nice decoration? There's no sin so simple that it doesn't wear Some mark of virtue on its outside. How many cowards whose hearts are as false As sand stairs wear beards on their chins Like Hercules and Mars with their frowns, Who if you looked inside would have livers white as milk, And they just put on the appearance of courage To make themselves feared. Look at beauty, And you'll see it's bought by weight, Which performs a miracle in nature— Making the lightest those who wear the most of it. So these curly shiny golden locks That dance so playfully with the wind On what seems to be fair skin are often known To be a dead person's hair— The skull that grew them in the grave. So decoration is just the decorated shore Of a most dangerous sea; the beautiful scarf Covering an Indian beauty; in a word, The false truth that deceitful times wrap up To trap the wisest people. So you shiny gold, Hard food for King Midas, I won't take you, Nor you, silver and common tool That goes between people: but you, you pale lead, Which threatens more than you promise anything, Your paleness moves me more than any speech, And here I choose you—let the consequences be what they are!

So the outside is almost never what things really are. People get fooled by decoration all the time. In court, you can take a terrible legal argument, polish it with a good voice, and suddenly it hides how bad it really is. Same with religion— any serious-looking guy can take an obvious mistake, quote the Bible at you, and make it sound decent. Even the worst sin manages to slap on some virtue to make itself look better. Take cowards—their hearts are complete fakes, worse than quicksand, but they wear big beards on their chins like Hercules or Mars in a bad mood, when really if you looked inside they'd have hearts like milk. They're just using the appearance of courage to scare people. Look at pretty people—they've literally bought their looks by weight. It works a miracle: the more fake beauty they pile on, the less there actually is underneath. So those shiny gold curls that wave around so nicely in the breeze? Most of the time that's hair from a dead person, grown in a skull in a cemetery. So beauty is just the decorated shore of a really dangerous ocean; it's the beautiful scarf wrapped around something foreign. Basically, it's the fake truth that tricky people wrap up to trap even the smartest people. So you, shiny gold, you're impossible food for King Midas—I'm not taking you. And you're not either, silver and common money that passes between everyone. But you, pale lead, you're threatening rather than promising anything— your plainness moves me more than the fanciest speech ever could. Here's where I choose, and let whatever happens, happen.

everything's fake on the outside people get tricked by decoration crooks use nice voices to hide evil beards hide coward hearts beauty's bought, not real those curly gold locks? dead person's hair so gold's useless silver's common but you, lead—plain and honest i pick you

All other feelings vanish like air, like doubtful thoughts and desperate despair, and shuddering fear and jealousy. Love, be moderate; calm down your ecstasy, measure out your joy; hold back this excess! I feel too much your blessing; make it less, for fear I get overwhelmed.

All my other emotions just disappear, like my doubts and my fear and my jealousy. Love, slow down; don't let me feel so much, control my happiness and joy—I'm overflowing! This feeling is too intense; I'm drowning in it, I'm afraid I'll collapse from too much happiness.

doubts & fear vanish jealousy gone love—chill out im too happy feelings r too much im drowning

What did I find here? Opening the lead casket. A painting of beautiful Portia! What half-god Came so close to creating life? Do these eyes move? Or do they just seem to move, riding on the movement of mine? Here are lips separated, Parted with breath that tastes like sugar, and such sweetness Should never separate such sweet friends. Here in her hair The painter acted like a spider, weaving A golden web to trap men's hearts Faster than insects get stuck in real cobwebs. But her eyes!— How could he even see to paint them? Having created one eye, I'd think it should have the power to steal both his eyes And leave itself unfinished. Yet look how far short My praise of what's real falls, when compared to this picture. I underrate it so much that this picture Is actually better than what it's copying. Here's the scroll, Which contains and sums up my fortune. You who don't choose based on appearance, May have luck as good and judgment as sound! Because this fortune has come to you, Be satisfied and want nothing more. If you're happy with this, And take your fortune as your happiness, Go to where your lady is, And claim her with a kiss filled with love. What a lovely scroll. Fair lady, by your permission, I come with instructions to give and to receive. Like someone in a competition Who thinks he's done well and hears the crowd cheer, Giddy with excitement, still wondering If the applause is really for him, So I stand now, three times over fair lady, Still wondering if what I see is real, Until you confirm it, sign it, make it official.

What is this? I'm opening the lead box. It's a picture of beautiful Portia! What kind of genius Got this close to making something real? Are her eyes actually moving? Or do they just look like they're moving because of how I'm looking at them? Her lips are separated by this sweet breath, and lips that soft should never be apart. And look at her hair—the painter basically spiderweb-ed it, trapped gold into a net to catch men's hearts faster than gnats stick to actual webs. But her eyes!— how even painted them? Once he finished one, I'd think that one eye alone should be powerful enough to steal both of his real eyes and leave itself without a partner. And honestly, my words can't even do the real Portia justice. I'm underselling this picture so much it actually sounds better than the real thing it came from. Here's the note: You who don't choose by looks Will have as much luck and as good judgment! Since fortune fell to you, Be happy with it and don't look for more. If you're okay with this, And you take your fortune as your joy, Go find your lady And seal it with a kiss. What a perfect note. Fair lady, if you don't mind, I come here to make an exchange—to give myself and receive you. I'm like someone in a contest who thinks he won, and hears everyone yelling and cheering, feeling dizzy with joy but still not totally sure if the cheers are really for him, So I'm standing here, three times as confused, beautiful lady, still not sure if what I'm seeing is actually true, until you tell me it is.

a painting of you how did he even paint your eyes your hair trapped gold like a spiderweb i open this lead box and find you i can't believe it's real until you tell me it is

You see me, Lord Bassanio, standing here, Just as I am; though for myself alone I wouldn't want to be better in my wishes To wish myself much better, yet for your sake I wish I were three hundred times better, A thousand times more beautiful, ten thousand times Richer, So I could be worth more in your estimation, And exceed what can be calculated in virtues, beauties, wealth, and friends. But everything I am, Totals to something which I'll call roughly A girl without learning, without training, without practice; The good thing is she's not so old yet That she can't learn; better still, She's not born so dull that she can't learn; The best is that her gentle nature Gives itself over to you to be guided, As by her husband, her ruler, her king. Myself and everything I own now belong to you and yours. I've been transformed. But I was the ruler Of this beautiful house, owner of my servants, Queen of myself; and even right now, just now, This house, these servants, and this same self Are yours now—yours, my husband. I give them to you with this ring, And if you ever take it off, lose it, or give it away, Let it be a sign of the end of your love, And be my reason to accuse you.

Here I am, Lord Bassanio, exactly as you see me. For my own sake, I wouldn't really want to be different— I'm happy as I am. But for you? I wish I was three hundred times better, thousand times prettier, ten thousand times richer, so you'd think I was worth more than anyone could even measure. But here's the thing—all of me adds up to basically a girl who's never been taught anything, has no training, no experience. The bright side is I'm still young enough to learn; the brighter side is I'm not too dumb to learn; the brightest side is my nature just wants to follow your lead, like you're my husband, my ruler, my king. I'm yours now. Everything I have is yours. I've been transformed. I used to run this beautiful house, managed my own servants, was basically queen of myself. But right now, literally right now, this house, these servants, and me— we're all yours. My husband, here's this ring. If you ever take it off, lose it, or give it to someone else, that means our love is ending, and I'll have every right to be furious with you.

here i am i wish i was three hundred times prettier for you i'm untaught, unpracticed but i can learn everything i have is yours now including this ring lose it and lose my love

My lady, you've left me without words. Only my blood speaks to you through my veins, And there's such confusion in my mind Like after some beautiful speech made By a beloved prince, when the happy crowd Stands there buzzed and pleased, Where everything mixing together Turns into nothing but joy, Both expressed and not expressed. But when this ring Comes off this finger, then life leaves here. O then don't hesitate to say Bassanio is dead!

Lady, you've stolen all my words. My blood is the only thing that can speak to you, and my whole mind is just chaos— like after you hear an amazing speech from someone you love, and the crowd is going wild and happy all around you, and everything blurs together into just pure joy, too much to even put into words. But this ring— if it ever comes off my finger, that's when I die. If that happens, don't hesitate: just say Bassanio is done.

you took my words my blood's the only thing talking my mind is chaos when this ring comes off i'm dead

My lord and lady, for those of us who Stood by and watched our wishes come true, It's now our time to say, congratulations. Congratulations, my lord and lady!

My lord and lady, those of us who've been standing on the sidelines watching this work out—we get to celebrate now. Congratulations! Congratulations, both of you!

congrats, you two! we're so happy for you

My Lord Bassanio and my lady, I want you to have all the happiness you can have; Because I'm sure you can't get any happiness from me. And when you plan to make official Your marriage vows, I'm begging you Let me get married at the same time too.

Lord Bassanio and my lady, I wish you every bit of happiness you can get. I mean, I can't add to your joy, that's for sure. But when you decide to make it official with your vows, would you do me a favor? Can I get married at the same time?

i want all happiness for you two just can't add to it myself but can i get married at the same time?

Absolutely, if you can find a wife.

Sure thing, as long as you can actually find a woman willing to marry you.

sure, if you can find someone

I thank you, my lord, you've already found me one. My eyes, my lord, can look as quickly as yours: You saw the mistress, I watched the maid. You were in love, I was in love; I'm no slower than you. Your luck depended on those caskets there, And mine depended on them too, the way things worked out. For wooing here until I was sweating, And swearing love oaths until my mouth completely dried out, Finally (if promises hold), I got a promise from this beautiful woman That she'd love me, as long as your luck won her mistress.

Thank you, my lord—you basically just introduced me to one. My eyes work just as fast as yours: You were looking at the mistress, I was watching the maid. You fell in love, I fell in love; I'm just as quick as you. Your fortune was tied to those caskets, and so was mine, turns out. I've been flirting here until I was completely sweaty, swearing I love her until my throat was bone dry, and finally—fingers crossed this promise sticks— I got her to say she'll love me, as long as you got her mistress.

thanks, you basically set me up i fell in love just like you i swore i love her till i was dry she said yes if you won portia

Nerissa, can you confirm what Gratiano just told me?

Wait, this is actually true, Nerissa?

wait what

My lady, it is, as long as you're okay with it.

It's true, my lady, if you're cool with it.

it's true if you're okay with it

Gratiano, are you being serious about this?

Gratiano, are you being real about this?

gratiano are you serious

Yes, I'm being sincere, my lord.

Yeah, I'm being totally sincere, my lord.

yeah i'm serious

Our wedding celebration will be much more honored because of your marriage too.

Our wedding feast is going to be even better with two couples getting married.

our feast is better with your wedding too

We'll bet with you for the first boy—a thousand ducats.

We'll make a bet with you: whoever has a son first gets a thousand ducats.

bet on who has a son first? thousand ducats

What! And just give away money like that?

What! You're just going to put money on the line like that?

you're betting actual money?

No, we'll never win at that game if we just give away money. But who's coming here? Lorenzo and his girlfriend? What, and my old friend from Venice, Salerio!

No, we'll never win that way if we're just giving away cash. But who's this? Lorenzo and his girl coming in? Wait, and Salerio? My old Venetian buddy!

we won't win betting money like that oh hey lorenzo and salerio

Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome here. If my new position has any power at all, I welcome you. With your permission, I invite my own friends and fellow Venetians, Sweet Portia, welcome.

Lorenzo and Salerio, welcome to us. If I have any say in this—and I kind of do now— you're both welcome. So, beautiful Portia, let me introduce my close friends from Venice.

welcome lorenzo and salerio this is my wife portia they're from home

I agree completely, my lord. They're very welcome.

Same here, my lord. You're both so welcome.

you're both so welcome

Thank you for your kindness. For my part, my lord, I wasn't planning to come here, But meeting Salerio on the way, He kept pushing me, and I couldn't refuse, So I came with him.

Thank you so much. To be honest, I wasn't even planning to come, but I ran into Salerio on the way, and he basically insisted, so here I am.

i wasn't planning to come but salerio dragged me along

I did, my lord, And I have a reason for it. Signior Antonio Sends his greetings to you.

I did, my lord, and I had a reason. Signior Antonio wanted me to send you his regards.

i had a reason antonio says hi

Before I even open his letter, Please tell me—how is my good friend doing?

Before I even read his letter, tell me—how's Antonio doing?

before i read it tell me how's antonio

He's not sick in his body, my lord, unless it's in his mind; He's not well unless it's only in his mind. His letter there Will show you his situation.

He's not physically sick, my lord, unless you count his mood; he's not doing well unless you count his state of mind. But this letter will tell you everything.

he's not sick in body only in his mind the letter explains it

Nerissa, cheer up that stranger over there, invite her to have fun. Your hand, Salerio. What's the news from Venice? How's that royal businessman, good Antonio? I know he'll be happy about our success. We're like Jason, we've won the golden fleece.

Nerissa, go make our guest feel welcome over there. Hey Salerio, come here. What's happening in Venice? How's Antonio, that big important merchant? I bet he's going to be thrilled to hear we won. We're like the Argonauts—we've got the golden fleece.

nerissa welcome her what's happening in venice how's antonio we're like jason, we won

I wish you had won the fleece that he has lost.

I wish you'd won the fleece he's lost.

wish you won the fleece he lost

There's some serious bad news in that letter over there That's draining the color from Bassanio's face. Either some close friend has died, otherwise nothing in this world Could change someone so much—the basic nature Of someone steady. What, getting worse? With your permission, Bassanio, I'm half of you, And I need to completely share anything That this letter brings you.

There's something terrible in that letter— it's draining all the color from Bassanio's face. Either someone close just died, or nothing else in the world could shake up someone's mood this much. What's it getting worse? Bassanio, I'm half of you, and I need to know everything that letter's telling you.

that letter's draining your face something terrible i'm half of you i need to know

O sweet Portia, Here are some of the most unpleasant words That ever got written on paper. Dear lady, When I first told you I loved you, I was completely honest about my wealth— All I had was in my veins, I came from a good family. And that was true. And yet, dear lady, When I valued myself as nothing, you should see How much I was actually bragging. When I told you I had no money, I should have told you I was even worse than that; because in reality I've put myself in debt to a close friend, I've put my friend in debt to his worst enemy, Just to pay my way. Here's a letter, lady, The paper is like my friend's body, And every word is a wound Pouring out lifeblood. But is it real, Salerio? Have all his ships failed? Not a single success? From Tripolis, from Mexico, from England, From Lisbon, Morocco, and India, And not a single ship escaped the deadly Rocks that destroy merchant ships?

O my sweet Portia, this has some of the worst words ever written down. Dear lady, when I first told you I loved you, I was honest about my wealth— all I had was my family name, I'm from the right stock. That was true. But looking back, dear lady, when I said I had nothing, I was actually bragging. I should have told you I had less than nothing—because I actually owe a ton of money to a close friend, I got him to go into debt to his enemy, all to keep up appearances. Here's a letter, lady, and it's basically my friend's body on paper, every word is like a wound bleeding out. But Salerio, is this really true? Did all his ships fail? Not even one made it? From North Africa, from Mexico, from England, from Portugal, from Morocco, from India— and not one ship got away from the rocks that wreck merchant vessels?

these are terrible words when i said i had nothing i was lying i owe everything to antonio i got him to go into debt every word in this letter is a wound did all his ships really fail

Not one, my lord. Besides, it seems that if he had The money right now to pay back the Jew, He wouldn't take it. I've never met A creature who looked human But was so eager and greedy to destroy someone. He goes to the Duke every morning and every night, And says the government is violating freedom If they won't give him his justice. Twenty merchants, The Duke himself, and all the important people Of the highest rank have all tried to convince him, But nobody can get him away from his cruel claim Of taking what's owed, getting his justice, and keeping his contract.

Not a single one, my lord. And get this—even if he had the money right now to pay off the Jew, he wouldn't take it. I've never seen anyone who looks human but is this determined and hungry to destroy someone. He's at the Duke's office morning and night, saying the state is breaking its own rules if they don't let him have his revenge. Twenty merchants, the Duke himself, all the powerful people in the city have all tried to talk him down, but nobody can stop him from getting what's owed, from getting his revenge, from collecting on that contract.

not one ship made it even if antonio had the money now the jew wouldn't take it he wants blood the duke and everyone tried he won't budge

When I was with him, I heard him swear To Tubal and to Chus, his countrymen, That he'd rather have Antonio's flesh Than twenty times the money That Antonio owed him. And I know, my lord, If the law, the government, and power don't stop it, It's going to go badly for poor Antonio.

When I was around him, I heard him actually swear to his friends Tubal and Chus that he'd rather have Antonio's actual flesh than twenty times the amount of money that Antonio owes. And my lord, if the law and the government don't step in, it's going to end really badly for Antonio.

i heard him swear he wants antonio's flesh not the money, the actual flesh twenty times the amount if law doesn't stop it antonio's done

Is it your close friend who's in this trouble?

Is this close friend of yours in all this trouble?

your best friend is in trouble

The closest friend to me, the most generous man, The best character and most tireless spirit In doing kind acts, and the person in whom The ancient Roman honor appears more Than in anyone living in Italy today.

He's my best friend, the most generous person, has the best character and never gets tired of doing good things. He's the most honorable person I know—like an ancient Roman come to life, more so than anyone else in Italy.

my best friend generest guy best character most honorable person i know

How much money does he owe the Jew?

How much does he owe Shylock?

what's the debt

He owes three thousand ducats on my account.

Three thousand ducats for my sake.

3k coins

What, only that much? Pay him six thousand, and destroy the contract. Pay twelve thousand, and then triple that, Before a friend like that Losses even a hair because of Bassanio. First come to church with me and marry me, Then go to Venice to help your friend. Because you will never come to bed with Portia With a troubled mind. You'll have money To pay that small debt twenty times over. Once it's paid, bring your true friend back here. Meanwhile, my maid Nerissa and I Will stay single and without husbands. Come on, move! You'll leave for Venice on your wedding day. Tell your friends to celebrate with us; Show them a happy face— Because you cost me a lot, I'll love you a lot. But first, let me read your friend's letter.

That's all? Just three thousand? Pay him six thousand and rip up the contract. Pay twelve thousand, then triple it, before a friend that good loses even one hair because of you. First, come to church with me and marry me. Then go to Venice and help your friend. You're not getting into bed with me with a troubled heart. You'll have plenty of money to pay that debt twenty times over. Once you've paid him back, bring him here. Meanwhile, Nerissa and I will live like single women. Let's go! You're leaving for Venice on your wedding day. Welcome your friends and keep partying— show them we're happy. Since you cost me everything, I'll love you everything. But read me that letter from your friend first.

six thousand? twelve thousand pay it off come marry me first then go save him i'll give you money let me read his letter

Sweet Bassanio, all my ships have gone down, my creditors are becoming cruel, my fortune is very small, my contract with the Jew has been forfeited, and because paying it means I will die, all debts between us are forgiven, if only I could see you before I die. However, do whatever you want. If your love doesn't make you come, pay no attention to my letter.

Sweet Bassanio, my ships all sank, people I owe money to are getting mean, I'm broke, the Jew's contract is done and I can't pay it, and paying it will kill me, so everything I owe you is forgiven, I just want to see you before I go. But you do whatever you need to do. If your love won't bring you to me, don't even bother reading the rest of this letter.

all my ships sank i'm broke shylock's taking everything i can't pay it'll kill me sorry come if you want

O my love, finish all your business quickly and go!

My love, wrap everything up and get out of here!

go go go hurry

Since you've given me permission to leave, I'll hurry; but until I come back, No bed will ever see me spend the night, Nor will rest come between us two.

Since you're letting me go, I'm going to move fast. But until I come back, I'm not sleeping in any bed, and nothing's going to come between us.

i'll rush no sleep till i'm back with you