Lor. Hold here, take this.-Tell gentle Jessica, Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight. Lor. Meet me, and Gratiano, [Exeunt SALAR. and SALAN. Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica ? Lor. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed, How I shall take her from her father's house; What gold, and jewels, she is furnished 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; [Exeunt. SCENE V. The same. Before Shylock's House. Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNcelot. Shy. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.- Laun. Why, Jessica! Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, I could do nothing without bidding. Jes. Call you? Enter JESSICA. What is you? What is your will? Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica. There are my keys :-but wherefore should I go? The prodigal Christian.-Jessica, my girl, Laun. I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach. Shy. So do I his. Laun. And they have conspired together.-I will not say, you shall see a mask; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on Black-Monday1 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 masks? Hear you me, Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, Say, I will come. I will go before, sir;— Mistress, look out at window for all this; 1 i. e. Easter-Monday. It was called Black-Monday from the severity of that day, April 14, 1360, which was so extraordinary, that, of Edward the Third's soldiers, then before Paris, many died of the cold. Anciently a superstitious belief was annexed to the accident of bleeding at the nose. There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit LAUN. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jes. His words were, Farewell, mistress; nothing else. Shy. The patch1 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; His borrowed purse. Well, Jessica, go in; Do, as I bid you, Shut doors after you; fast bind, fast find; A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit. Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crossed, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit. SCENE VI. The same. Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masked. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Desired us to make stand. Salar. His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he outdwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont, To keep obliged faith unforfeited! Gra. That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again That he did pace them first? All things that are, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay, 1 i. e. fool or simpleton. Hugged and embraced by the strumpet wind! Enter LORENzo. Salar. Here comes Lorenzo;-more of this here after. Lor. 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? Enter JESSICA above, in Boy's Clothes. Jes. Who are you? Tell me for more certainty, Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue. Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love. Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love indeed; For who love I so much? And now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou art. Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me, For I am much ashamed of my exchange; But love is blind, and lovers cannot see The pretty follies that themselves commit; For, if they could, Cupid himself would blush To see me thus transformed to a boy. Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? They in themselves, good sooth, are too, too light. Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love; And I should be obscured. So are you, sweet, Lor. For the close night doth play the runaway, Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself With some more ducats, and be with you straight. [Exit from above. Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile,1 and no Jew. Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily. For she is wise, if I can judge of her; And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true; And true she is, as she hath proved herself; And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Shall she be placed in my constant soul. Enter JESSICA, below. What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away; [Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO. Enter ANTONIO. Ant. Who's there? Gra. Seignior Antonio? Ant. Fie, fie, Gratiano! Where are all the rest? 'Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you. No mask to-night: the wind is come about; I have sent twenty out to seek for you. Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail and gone to-night. [Exeunt. SCENE VII. Belmont. A Room in Portia's House. Flourish of Cornets. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince of Morocco, and both their Trains. Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover The several caskets to this noble prince. Now make your choice. ha 1 A jest arising from the ambiguity of Gentile, which signifies both a heathen and one well born. |