I pray you tarry, pause a day or two Before you hazard, for in choosing wrong I lose your company; therefore forbear a while. There’s something tells me I would not lose you, and you know yourself Hate counsels not in such a quality. But lest you should not understand me well,— And yet a maiden hath no tongue but thought,— I would detain you here some month or two Before you venture for me. I could teach you How to choose right, but then I am forsworn. So will I never be. So may you miss me. But if you do, you’ll make me wish a sin, That I had been forsworn. Beshrew your eyes, They have o’erlook’d me and divided me. One half of me is yours, the other half yours, Mine own, I would say; but if mine, then yours, And so all yours. O these naughty times Puts bars between the owners and their rights! And so though yours, not yours. Prove it so, Let Fortune go to hell for it, not I. I speak too long, but ’tis to peise the time, To eche it, and to draw it out in length, To stay you from election.

Portia Monologue from The Merchant of Venice

Rehearse Portia's monologue