BASSANIO.
None, but that ugly treason of mistrust,
Which makes me fear the enjoying of my love.
There may as well be amity and life
'Tween snow and fire, as treason and my love.
PORTIA.
Ay! but I fear you speak upon the rack,
Where men enforced do speak any thing.
BASSANIO.
Promise me life, and I'll confess the truth.
PORTIA.
Well then, confess, and live.
BASSANIO.
Confess and love
Had been the very sum of my confession!
O happy torment, when my torturer
Doth teach me answers for deliverance!