So do I, my lord: They are entirely welcome.

I thank your honour. For my part, my lord, My purpose was not to have seen you here; But meeting with Salerio by the way, He did entreat me, past all saying nay, To come with him along.

I did, my lord; And I have reason for it. Signior Antonio Commends him to you. Gives Bassanio a letter.

Ere I ope his letter, I pray you, tell me how my good friend doth.

Not sick, my lord, unless it be in mind; Nor well, unless in mind: his letter there Will show you his estate.

Nerissa, cheer yon stranger; bid her welcome. Your hand, Salerio: what’s the news from Venice? How doth that royal merchant, good Antonio? I know he will be glad of our success; We are the Jasons, we have won the fleece.

There are some shrewd contents in yon same paper, That steals the colour from Bassanio’s cheek: Some dear friend dead; else nothing in the world Could turn so much the constitution Of any constant man. What, worse and worse! With leave, Bassanio: I am half yourself, And I must freely have the half of anything That this same paper brings you.