The Merchant of Venice

Act 2, Scene 1

Flourish cornets Enter the Prince of MOROCCO, a tawny Moor all in white, and three or four followers accordingly, with PORTIA, NERISSA, and their train

Trumpets play. The prince of MOROCCO , a brown-skinned man dressed in all white, enters, followed by three or four servants dressed in costumes like his. PORTIA, NERISSA, and their ATTENDANTS enter.

MOROCCO

Mislike me not for my complexion,

The shadowed livery of the burnished sun,

To whom I am a neighbor and near bred.

Bring me the fairest creature northward born,

Where Phoebus’ 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 feared the valiant. By my love I swear

The best-regarded virgins of our clime

Have loved it too. I would not change this hue

Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.

MOROCCO

Don’t hold my skin color against me. I was born and raised in the sun, which is why I’m dark-skinned. But I’m as red-blooded as any man. Show me the best-looking person born in the freezing north, where the sun barely thaws the icicles. I’ll win your love by cutting myself to prove to you I have redder blood than he does. I’m telling you, madam, my skin color has made brave men fear me and Moroccan girls love me. I wouldn’t change it except to make you think of me, my darling queen.

PORTIA

In terms of choice I am not solely led

By nice direction of a maiden’s eyes.

Besides, the lottery of my destiny

Bars me the right of voluntary choosing.

But if my father had not scanted me

And hedged me by his wit to yield myself

His wife who wins me by that means I told you,

Yourself, renownèd Prince, then stood as fair

As any comer I have looked on yet

For my affection.

PORTIA

Being good-looking isn’t the only way to my heart, you know. I have other criteria for choosing a husband. Not that it matters, because the box test takes away my free choice anyway. But if my father hadn’t restricted me like this—forcing me to marry whoever wins his test—then you’d have had as good a chance to marry me as any of the suitors I’ve met so far, prince.

MOROCCO

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 the lady. But, alas the while!

If Hercules and Lychas 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 page,

And so may I, blind fortune leading me,

Miss that which one unworthier may attain

And die with grieving.

MOROCCO

Thank you for saying that. Show me the caskets and let me try my luck. I swear by my sword, which killed the Shah of Persia and a Persian prince and defeated the Sultan Suleiman three times, that I would face the meanest-looking warriors on earth. I would act braver than the bravest man on earth. I would grab bear cubs from a ferocious mother bear, or tease a hungry lion—all of this in order to win your love, lady. But this is bad! If the hero Hercules and his servant Lychas rolled the dice, which would win? Not the greater hero. Just the one who happened to be luckier that time. And just as Hercules could be beaten by his servant, blind luck could make me lose this test and make someone worse than me win. If that happened, I’d die of sadness.

PORTIA

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 advised.

PORTIA

You have to take your chances. Either don’t choose at all, or swear beforehand that if you choose incorrectly you’ll never talk about marriage to any woman again. Think about it carefully.

MOROCCO

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

MOROCCO

Fine, I swear I won’t ever get married if I choose incorrectly. Let me take my chances.

PORTIA

First, forward to the temple. After dinner

Your hazard shall be made.

PORTIA

Let’s go to the temple first. You can take your chances after dinner.

MOROCCO

Good fortune then!—

To make me blessed or cursed’st among men.

MOROCCO

I’ll try my luck then. I’ll either be the luckiest or the unluckiest man alive.

Cornets

Trumpets play.

Exeunt

They exit.