The Merchant of Venice, Act 2, Scene 1

Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadowed livery of the burnish’d sun, To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phœbus’ fire scarce thaws the icicles, And let us make incision for your love To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine Hath fear’d the valiant; by my love I swear The best-regarded virgins of our clime Have lov’d it too. I would not change this hue, Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.

Don't dislike me for my colouring, the dark uniform given me by the gleaming sun, whose neighbour I am and close to whom I was born. Bring me the fairest person born in the north, where Phœbus' fire barely melts the icicles, and let us cut ourselves open for love of you to prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine. I tell you, lady, this face of mine has frightened brave men; by my love I swear the most admired young women of our country have loved it too. I would not change this colour, except to win your thoughts, my gentle queen.

In terms of choice I am not solely led By nice direction of a maiden’s eyes; Besides, the lott’ry of my destiny Bars me the right of voluntary choosing. But if my father had not scanted me And hedg’d me by his wit to yield myself His wife who wins me by that means I told you, Yourself, renowned Prince, then stood as fair As any comer I have look’d on yet For my affection.

When it comes to choosing, I am not guided only by the fastidious direction of a young woman's eyes; besides, the lottery of my fate denies me the right to choose freely. But if my father had not restricted me and fenced me in by his cleverness, so that I must give myself as wife to whoever wins me by the means I told you of, then you, renowned Prince, would have stood as good a chance as any suitor I have looked at so far of winning my love.

Even for that I thank you. Therefore I pray you lead me to the caskets To try my fortune. By this scimitar That slew the Sophy and a Persian prince, That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, I would o’erstare the sternest eyes that look, Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth, Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear, Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey, To win thee, lady. But, alas the while! If Hercules and Lichas play at dice Which is the better man, the greater throw May turn by fortune from the weaker hand: So is Alcides beaten by his rage, And so may I, blind Fortune leading me, Miss that which one unworthier may attain, And die with grieving.

I thank you even for that. So please lead me to the caskets to try my luck. By this curved sword that killed the Sophy and a Persian prince, and won three battles against Sultan Solyman, I would stare down the fiercest eyes that look, out-dare the boldest heart on earth, tear the young suckling cubs from the mother bear, yes, and taunt the lion when he roars for his prey, to win you, lady. But sadly! If Hercules and Lichas throw dice to decide which is the better man, the higher throw may by chance come from the weaker hand: so Alcides is beaten by his servant, and so may I, with blind Fortune leading me, lose what a less worthy man may get, and die of grief.

You must take your chance, And either not attempt to choose at all, Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong Never to speak to lady afterward In way of marriage. Therefore be advis’d.

You must take your chance, and either not try to choose at all, or swear before you choose that, if you choose wrong, you will never speak to any woman about marriage afterwards. So think carefully.

Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance.

And I will not. Come, take me to my chance.

First, forward to the temple. After dinner Your hazard shall be made.

First, on to the chapel. After dinner you shall make your attempt.

Good fortune then, To make me blest or cursed’st among men!

Good luck to me then, to make me the most blessed or the most cursed of men!