Could turn so much the constitution
Of any constant man. What, worse and worse!
250 With leave, Bassanio; I am half yourself,
[251] And I must freely have the half of any thing
That this same paper brings you.
Bass.
O sweet Portia,
Here are a few of the unpleasant’st words
That ever blotted paper! Gentle lady,
255 When I did first impart my love to you,