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Oscar Wilde - Portia
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.        I MARVEL not Bassanio was so bold
            To peril all he had upon the lead,
            Or that proud Aragon bent low his head,
          Or that Morocco`s fiery heart grew cold:
          For in that gorgeous dress of beaten gold
            Which is more golden than the golden sun,
            No woman Veronesé looked upon
          Was half so fair as thou whom I behold.
          Yet fairer when with wisdom as your shield
            The sober-suited lawyer`s gown you donned                 


          And would not let the laws of Venice yield
            Antonio`s heart to that accursèd Jew—
            O Portia! take my heart: it is thy due:
          I think I will not quarrel with the Bond.
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