Portia
Sir, you are very welcome to our house:
It must appear in other ways than words,
Therefore I scant this breathing courtesy.
Gratiano
By yonder moon I swear you do me wrong;
In faith, I gave it to the judge’s clerk:
Would he were gelt that had it, for my part,
Since you do take it, love, so much at heart.
To Nerissa .
Portia
A quarrel, ho, already! what’s the matter?
Gratiano
About a hoop of gold, a paltry ring
That she did give me, whose posy was
For all the world like cutler’s poetry