Original
Modern English
Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow’d livery of the burnish’d sun, To whom I am a neighbour 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 fear’d 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.
Don’t dislike me because of my skin color, The dark shade of the bright sun, To whom I am a neighbor and born close to. Bring me the fairest person born north of here, Where the sun’s heat barely melts the ice, And let’s test your love, To see whose blood is redder, mine or his. I swear, lady, this look of mine Has scared even the bravest men: by my love I swear The most respected young women from our land Have loved it too: I wouldn’t change this color, Unless it could steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
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, renowned prince, then stood as fair As any comer I have look’d on yet For my affection.
When it comes to choice, I’m not just guided By the simple look in a girl’s eyes; Besides, the lottery of my fate Prevents me from freely choosing: But if my father hadn’t limited me And kept me bound by his plan, to marry the man Who wins me through the method I told you, You, renowned prince, would’ve had as good a chance As any man I’ve looked at yet To win 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 outstare 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.
I thank you for that: So, I ask you, lead me to the caskets To try my luck. By this sword That killed the Sophy and a Persian prince Who won three battles against Sultan Solyman, I’d dare face the fiercest eyes that look at me, Outdo the bravest hearts on earth, Rip the cubs from a she-bear, Yes, mock the lion when he roars for his prey, To win you, lady. But, alas! If Hercules and Lichas played dice To see who was the better man, the higher throw Might go to the weaker hand by chance: So even Hercules could be beaten by his servant; And so I, with blind fortune leading me, Might miss what someone less worthy may gain, And die in sorrow.
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.
You must take your chance, And either not try to choose at all Or swear, before you choose, that if you choose wrong You’ll never speak to a lady about marriage again: So think carefully.
Nor will not. Come, bring me unto my chance.
I won’t hesitate. Come, lead me to my chance.
First, forward to the temple: after dinner Your hazard shall be made.
First, let’s go to the temple: after dinner You’ll make your choice.
Good fortune then! To make me blest or cursed’st among men.
Good luck then! To make me blessed or cursed among men.