Bassanio is in love with Portia and is willing to do whatever it takes to win her affection, but he isn’t the only one. In fact, Portia has so many suitors that her father has crafted an unconventional test to sift through them. Three caskets made of different metals—gold, silver, and lead–are laid before the suitors and whoever picks the right one gets Portia’s hand in marriage. When Bassanio chooses the correct casket he can’t believe it.
What find I here?
[Opening the leaden casket]
Fair Portia’s counterfeit! What demi-god
Hath come so near creation? Move these eyes?
Or whether, riding on the balls of mine,
Seem they in motion? Here are sever’d lips,
Parted with sugar breath: so sweet a bar
Should sunder such sweet friends. Here in her hairs
The painter plays the spider and hath woven
A golden mesh to entrap the hearts of men,
Faster than gnats in cobwebs; but her eyes,–
How could he see to do them? having made one,
Methinks it should have power to steal both his
And leave itself unfurnish’d. Yet look, how far
The substance of my praise doth wrong this shadow
In underprizing it, so far this shadow
Doth limp behind the substance. Here’s the scroll,
The continent and summary of my fortune.
“You that choose not by the view,
Chance as fair and choose as true!
Since this fortune falls to you,
Be content and seek no new,
If you be well pleased with this
And hold your fortune for your bliss,
Turn you where your lady is
And claim her with a loving kiss.”
A gentle scroll. Fair lady, by your leave;
I come by note, to give and to receive.
Like one of two contending in a prize,
That thinks he hath done well in people’s eyes,
Hearing applause and universal shout,
Giddy in spirit, still gazing in a doubt
Whether these pearls of praise be his or no;
So, thrice fair lady, stand I, even so;
As doubtful whether what I see be true,
Until confirm’d, sign’d, ratified by you.
Woofanio has been having a great time camping with his family. To deter him from their food, the family has sprayed their meat cooler with chew deterrent. The spray’s terrible smell is supposed to keep dogs away, but Woofanio is too curious to be stopped. When he finds the meats, though, he can’t believe that they are his to eat.
What find I here?
[Opening the cooler sprayed with chew deterrent]
Fair turkey bacon’s pack! What demi-god
Hath sealed such great creation? Move these zips?
Or whether, riding on the snout of mine,
Seem they in motion? Here are spiral’d hams,
Coated with sugar glaze: so sweet a sheen
Should cover such sweet meats. Here in the ice
This box plays the protector and hath melted
A slush bath to preserve the food of humans,
Longer than snow on mountains; but these zips, —
How could he reseal bacon? having chewed some,
Methinks he should have craving to eat the rest
And leave the bag wide open. Yet sniff, how far
The substance of my praise doth wrong this raw pork
In underprizing it, so far this raw pork
Doth limp behind barbecued. Here’s the scent,
The aroma and perfume of my sweet fortune.
“You that choose not by the smell,
Chance as fair and choose as well!
Since this picnic falls to you,
Be content and track no new,
If you be well lured by this,
and hold your barking for your bliss
Turn you where your new foods lay
And claim them as if fresh killed prey.”
A gentle scent. Fair bacon, by your leave;
I come by whiff, to nibble and to thieve.
Like one of two begging for some fresh steak,
That thinks he hath been cute to earn his take,
Hearing “treat” and universal “good boy”,
Giddy in instinct, still muted acting coy
Whether these words of leave be his or no;
So, thrice fair bacon, stand I, even so;
As doubtful whether what I smell be prim
Until confirm’d, okay’d, given by him.