Lor. Hold, here, take this; tell gentle Jeffica, I will not fail her; fpeak it privately.

Go.

-Gentlemen, will you prepare for this masque tonight?

I am provided of a torch-bearer.

[Exit Laun.

Sal. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it ftrait.
Sala. And fo will I.

Lor. Meet me, and Gratiano,

At Gratiano's lodging fome hour hence.

Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jeffica?

Sal. 'Tis good, we do so.

[Exit.

Lor. I must needs tell thee all; fhe hath directed,

How I fhall take her from her father's house,

What gold and jewels fhe is furnish'd with,
What page's fuit fhe hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heav'n,
It will be for his gentle daughter's fake;
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she doth it under this excufe,

That fhe is iffue to a faithlefs Jew.

Come, go with me; perufe this, as thou goeft;
Fair Jeffica fhall be my torch-bearer.

SCENE VI. Shylock's houfe.

Enter Shylock and Launcelot.

[Exeunt

Shy. Well, thou fhalt fee, thy eyes fhall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Baffanio. What, Jeffica! -thou shalt not gormandize, As thou hast done with me-what, Jeffica!And fleep and fnore, and rend apparel out. Why, Jeffica! I fay.

Laun. Why, Jeffica!

Shy. Who bids thee call? I did not bid thee call. Laun. Your Worship was wont to tell me, that I could do nothing without bidding.

Enter Fellica.

Jef. Call you? what is your will?
Shy. I am bid forth to fupper, Jeffica;

There

There are my keys. But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Chriftian. Jeffica, my girl,
Look to my houfe; I am right loath to go;
There is fome ill a-brewing towards my reft,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Laun. I befeech you, Sir, go; my young expect your reproach.

Shy. So do I his.

mafter doth

Laun. And they have confpired together, I will not fay you fhall fee a mafque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on black Monday laft, at fix o'clock i' th' morning, falling out that year on Afh-Wednesday was four year in the after

noon.

Shy. What are there mafques? hear you me, Jeffica. Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile fqueaking of the wry-neck'd fife, Clamber not you up to the cafements then, Nor thruft your head into the public street, To gaze on Chriftian fools with varnish'd faces. But ftop my houfe's ears; I mean, my cafements; Let not the found of fhallow foppery enter My fober houfe. By Jacob's ftaff, I fwear, I have no mind of feafting forth to-night. But I will go; go you before me, firrah. Say, I will come.

Laun. I will go before, Sir.

Miftrefs. look out at window, for all this;
There will come a Chriftian by,

Will be worth a Jewefs' eye.

[Exit Laun. Shy. What fays that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jef. His words were, Farewell, Mistress; nothing else. Shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder: Snail-flow in profit, but he fleeps by day

More than the wild cat; drones hive not with me,
Therefore I part with him; and part with him
Το one,
that I would have him help to waste
His borrow'd purfe. Well, Jeffica, go in;
Perhaps i will return immediately;
Do, as I bid you..

Shut

A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind.

Shut the doors after you: Faft bind, faft find;

[Exit.

Jef. Farewell; and if my fortune be not croft,

I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

[Exit.

SCENE VII. The street.

Enter Gratiano and Salanio in masquerade.

Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo de

fired us to make a stand.

Sal. His hour is almost past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,

For lovers ever run before the clock.

Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pidgeons fly
To feal love's bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds. Who rifeth from a feaft.
With that keen appetite that he fits down?
Where is the horse, that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire,
That he did pace them firft? All things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,

The fcarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the ftrumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth fhe return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the ftrumpet wind?

Enter Lorenzo

Sal. Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter. Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait;

When you fhall please to play the thieves for wives,
I'll watch as long for you then: come, approach;
Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within?

Feffica above, in boy's clothes.

Jef. Who are you? tell me for more certainty, Albeit I'll fwear that I do know your tongue. Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jef. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed;

For

For who love I fo much? and now who knows,
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.
Ff. Here catch this casket, it is worth the pains.
I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me;
For I am much afham'd of my exchange;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To fee me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Defcend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jef. What, muft I hold a candle to my fhames?
They in themfelves, goodfooth, are too, too light.
Why, 'tis an office of difcovery, love,
And I fhould be obfcur'd.

Lor. So are you, sweet,

Ev'n in the lovely garnish of a boy.

But come at once

For the close night doth play the run-away,
And we are ftaid for at Baffanio's feaft.

Jef. I will make faft the doors, and gild myself
With fome more ducats, and be with you ftrait.
[Exit from above.
Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor. Befhrew me, but I love her heartily;

For fhe is wife, if I can judge of her;
And fair fhe is, if that mine eyes be true;
And true he is, as fhe hath prov'd herself;
And therefore like herfelf, wife, fair, and true,
Shall the be placed in my conftant foul.

Enter Jeffica, to them.

What, art thou come? on, Gentlemen, away;
Our mafquing mates by this time for us stay.

Enter Anthonio.

Anth. Who's there?

Gra. Signior Anthonio,

Anth. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the reft? 'Tis nine o'clock, our friends all stay for you; No mafque to-night; the wind is come about, Baffanio prefently will go aboard;

[Exit.

I have fent twenty out to seek for

you.

Gra. I am glad on't; I defire no more delight Than to be under fail, and gone to-night.

SCENE VIII. Changes to Belmont.

[Exeunt.

Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains.
Por. Go, draw afide the curtains, and discover
The fev'ral calkets to this Noble Prince.

Now make your choice. [Three cafkets are difcover'd.
Mor. The firit of gold, which this infcription bears,
Who chufeth me, fball gain what many men defire.
The fecond filver, which this promise carries,
Who chufeth me, fball get as much as he deferves.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
Who chufeth me, must give and hazard all he hath.
How fhall I know, if I do chufe the right?

If

Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; you chuse that, then I am yours withal.

Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me fee,
I will furvey th' infcriptions back again;
What fays this leaden casket?

Who chufeth me, muft give and hazard all he hath.
Muft give, for what? for lead? hazard for lead?
This cafket threatens. Men that hazard all,
Do it in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind floops not to fhows of drofs;
I'll then not give, nor hazard, aught for lead.
What fays the filver, with her virgin hue?
Who chufeth me, ball get as much as he deferves.
As much as he deserves? pause there, Morochius;
And weigh thy value with an even hand.
If thou be'ft rated by thy estimation,
Thou doft deferve enough; and yet enough
May not extend fo far as to the lady;
And yet to be afraid of my deferving,
Were but a weak difabling of myself.

As much as I deferve?—why, that's the lady:
I do in birth deferve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding:
But more than thefe, in love I do deferve.
What if I ftray'd no further, but chose here?
VOL. II.
I

Let's