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| “THE DUCATS take! I ’ll sign the bond to-day: | |
| No storm can wreck Antonio’s white-winged fleet; | |
| My stately ships secure ride every bay | |
| From Tripolis to Indies’ golden seat. | |
| The ducats take, Bassanio, go thy way; | 5 |
| Thy Portia win, and bid me to the feast; | |
| Ten thousand men Antonio’s nod obey, | |
| And of ten thousand Shylock is the least. | |
| I ’ll sign the bond, thy words cannot avail, | |
| No chance can reach the wealth I share with thee: | 10 |
| I stand secure, let cruel fortune rail | |
| Till Venice sleeps beneath bright Adria’s sea.” | |
| Fate heard the boast—a thousand vessels lay | |
| ’Mid rocks and sands to waves an idle prey. | |
| |
| The dramas take! That bond at least is sure; | 15 |
| Twelve thousand words more dear than ducats are | |
| Outride the storms of ages and endure, | |
| Safe anchored here within the shifting bar | |
| Of changing speech. Eternal now his tongue, | |
| By right divine, sways all the world with grace: | 20 |
| Great bond of all—the words sweet Shakespeare sung; | |
| His commerce brings the nations face to face. | |
| His dramas take! Their wealth shall still survive; | |
| His argosies care not for time or fate; | |
| All else may pass, and crowding centuries strive, | 25 |
| That bond alone is not determinate. | |
| In him proud Albion lives entire and hale, | |
| Her titled language crowned in high entail. | |
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