From the four corners of the earth they come,
040 To kiss this shrine, this mortal-breathing saint:
[041] The Hyrcanian deserts and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia are as throughfares now
For princes to come view fair Portia:
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
[045] Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits; but they come,
As o’er a brook, to see fair Portia.
One of these three contains her heavenly picture.