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Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes

Thus with my hat, and sigh and say 'amen,' 180

Use all the observance of civility,

Like one well studied in a sad ostent

To please his grandam, never trust me more.

Sassanio. Well, we shall see your bearing.

Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me By what we do to-night.

Bassanio. No, that were pity:

I would entreat you rather to put on
Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose merriment. But fare you well:
I have some business. 190

Gratiano. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest:
But we will visit you at supper-time. [Exeunt.

SCENE III. The same. A room in Shylock's house.

Jessica. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so:
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee:
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest:
Give him this letter; do it secretly;
And so farewell: I would not have my father
See me in talk with thee. 9

Launcelot. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew, adieu: these foolish drops do something drown my manly spirit: adieu.

Jessica. Farewell, good Launcelot. [Exit Launcelot.

Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
To be ashamed to be my father's child!
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,

If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,

Become a Christian and thy loving wife. [Exit.

SCENE IV. The same. A street.

Lorenzo. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time,
Disguise us at my lodging and return,
All in an hour.

Gratiano. We have not made good preparation.

Salarino. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers.

Salanio. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd, And better in my mind not undertook.

Lorenzo. 'Tis now but four o'clock: we have two hours To furnish us. «

Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter.

Friend Launcelot, what's the news?

Launcelot. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify. 1 1

Lorenzo. I know the hand: in faith, 'tis a fair hand,
And whiter than the paper it writ on
Is the fair hand that writ.

Gratiano. Love-news, in faith.

Launcelot. By your leave, sir.

Lorenzo. Whither goest thou?

Launcelot. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian.

Lorenzo. Hold here, take this: tell gentle Jessica
I will not fail her; speak it privately. [Exit Launcelot. 20
Go, gentlemen,

Will you prepare you for this masque to-night?
I am provided of a torch-bearer.

Salarino. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.

Salanio. And so will I.

Lorenzo. Meet me and Gratiano

At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.

Salarino. 'Tis good we do so.

[Exeunt Salarino and Salanio.

Gratiano. Was not that letter from fair Jessica?

Lorenzo. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed How I shall take her from her father's house, 30

What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with,
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake:
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,
That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest:
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt.

SCENE V. The same. Before Shylock's house.


Shylock. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:— What, Jessica!—thou shalt not gormandise, As thou hast done with me:—What, Jessica!— And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out:— Why, Jessica, I say!

Launcelot. Why, Jessica!

Shylock. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.

Launcelot. Your worship was wont to tell me that I could do nothing without bidding.


Jessica. Call you? what is your will? 10

Shylock. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:

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 Christian. Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. I am right loath to go:
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Launcelot. I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect your reproach. 20

Shylock. So do I his.

Launcelot. An they have conspired together, I will not say you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-Monday last at six o'clock i' the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year, in the afternoon.

Shy. What, are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:
Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then, 30

Nor thrust your head into the public street
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces,
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements:
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah;
Say I will come.

Launcelot. I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this; 40

There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jewess' eye, [Exit.

Shylock. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?

Jes. His words were ' Farewell mistress;' nothing else.

Shylock. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder; Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day More than the wild-cat: drones hive not with me: Therefore I part with him, and part with him To one that I would have him help to waste His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in: 50

Perhaps I will return immediately:

Do as I bid you; shut doors after you:

Fast bind, fast find;

A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit.

Jessica. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit.

SCENE VI. The same.

Enter Gratiano and Salarino, masquer/.

Gratiano. This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo Desired us to make stand.

Salarino. His hour is almost past.

Gratiano. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

Salarino. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly To seal love's bonds new-made, than they are wont To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gratiano. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Where is the horse that doth untread again 10

His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker or a prodigal
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth she return,
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged sails,
Lean, rent and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! 19

Salarino. Here comes Lorenzo: more of this hereafter.


Lorenzo. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait: When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, I'll watch as long for you then. Approach; Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! who's within?

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