30
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle 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 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.
PRINCE OF 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 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 page; And so may I, blind Fortune leading me, Miss that which one unworthier may attain, And die with grieving.
PORTIA. You must take your chance, And either not attempt to choose at all,