“Dear Bassanio,” said Anthonio, “let him have the ring; let my love and the great service he has done for me be valued against your wife’s displeasure.”  Bassanio, ashamed to appear so ungrateful, yielded, and sent Gratiano after Portia with the ring; and then the clerk Nerissa, who had also given Gratiano a ring, she begged his ring, and Gratiano (not choosing to be outdone in generosity by his lord) gave it to her.  And there was laughing among these ladies to think, when they got home, how they would tax their husbands with giving away their rings, and swear that they had given them as a present to some woman.

Portia, when she returned, was in that happy temper of mind which never fails to attend the consciousness of having performed a good action; her cheerful spirits enjoyed every thing she saw:  the moon never seemed to shine so bright before; and when that pleasant moon was hid behind a cloud, then a light which she saw from her house at Belmont as well pleased her charmed fancy, and she said to Nerissa, “That light we see is burning in my hall; how far that little candle throws its beams, so shines a good deed in a naughty world:”  and hearing the sound of music from her house, she said, “Methinks that music sounds much sweeter than by day.”

And now Portia and Nerissa entered the house, and dressing themselves in their own apparel, they awaited the arrival of their husbands, who soon followed them with Anthonio; and Bassanio presenting his dear friend to the lady Portia, the congratulations and welcomings of that lady were hardly over, when they perceived Nerissa and her husband quarrelling in a corner of the room.  “A quarrel already?” said Portia.  “What is the matter?” Gratiano replied, “Lady, it is about a paltry gilt ring that Nerissa gave me, with words upon it like the poetry on a cutler’s knife; Love me, and leave me not.”

“What does the poetry or the value of the ring signify?” said Nerissa.  “You swore to me, when I gave it to you, that you would keep it till the hour of death; and now you say you gave it to the lawyer’s clerk.  I know you gave it to a woman.”  “By this hand,” replied Gratiano, “I gave it to a youth, a kind of boy, a little scrubbed boy no higher than yourself; he was clerk to the young counsellor that by his wise pleading saved Anthonio’s life:  this prating boy begged it for a fee, and I could not for my life deny him.”  Portia said, “You were to blame, Gratiano, to part with your wife’s first gift.  I gave my lord Bassanio a ring, and I am sure he would not part with it for all the world.”  Gratiano in excuse for his fault now said, “My lord Bassanio gave his ring away to the counsellor, and then the boy, his clerk, that took some pains in writing, he begged my ring.”