Ere thou shalt lose for me one drop of blood.
Ant. I am a tainted wether of the flock,
115 Meetest for death: the weakest kind of fruit
[116] Drops earliest to the ground; and so let me:
You cannot better be employ’d, Bassanio,
[118] Than to live still, and write mine epitaph.
Enter Nerissa, dressed like a lawyer’s clerk.
[119] Duke. Came you from Padua, from Bellario?
[120] Ner. From both, my lord. Bellario greets your Grace. [Presenting a letter.
Bass. Why dost thou whet thy knife so earnestly?