The Merchant of Venice: Act II

SCENE I. Belmont. A room in Portia’s house.

Flourish of cornets. Enter the Prince of Morocco, a tawny Moor all in
white, and three or four followers accordingly, with Portia, Nerissa
and their train.

PRINCE OF MOROCCO. 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...