1 I say my daughter is my flesh and my blood.
2 You knew, none so well, none so well as you, of my daughter's flight.
3 Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night, fourscore ducats.
4 One of them showed me a ring that he had of your daughter for a monkey.
5 Farewell, and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost.
6 Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats.
7 Marry, you may partly hope that your father got you not, that you are not the Jew's daughter.
8 I would my daughter were dead at my foot, and the jewels in her ear; would she were hearsed at my foot, and the ducats in her coffin.
9 Sometimes from her eyes I did receive fair speechless messages: Her name is Portia, nothing undervalu'd To Cato's daughter, Brutus' Portia.
10 Two things provided more, that for this favour, He presently become a Christian; The other, that he do record a gift, Here in the court, of all he dies possess'd Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter.
11 If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven, It will be for his gentle daughter's sake; And never dare misfortune cross her foot, Unless she do it under this excuse, That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
12 He tells me flatly there's no mercy for me in heaven, because I am a Jew's daughter; and he says you are no good member of the commonwealth, for in converting Jews to Christians you raise the price of pork.
13 So please my lord the Duke and all the court To quit the fine for one half of his goods, I am content, so he will let me have The other half in use, to render it Upon his death unto the gentleman That lately stole his daughter.