See me talk with thee.

Laun. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue; most beautiful Pagan, moft fweet Jew! if a chriftian did not play the knave and get thee, I am much deceiv'd; but adieu! thefe foolish drops do somewhat drown my manly spirit: adieu ! [Exit.

Jef. Farewel, good Launcelot.
Alack, what heinous fin is it in me,

To be asham'd 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 promife, I fhall end this ftrife,
Become a chriftian, and thy loving wife.

SCENE, the STREET.

[Exit.

Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Solarino, and Salanio.

Lor. NAY, we will flink away in fupper-time, dif

hour.

guife us at my lodging, and return all in an

Gra. We have not made good preparation.
Sal. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers.
Sola. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered,
And better in my mind not undertook.

Lor. 'Tis now but four a-clock, we have two hours To furnish us. Friend Launcelot, what's the news?

Enter Launcelot, with a letter.

Laun. An' it fhall please you to break up this, it shall feem to fignifie.

Lor. I know the hand; in faith, 'tis a fair hand; And whiter than the paper, it writ on,

Is the fair hand that writ.

Gra. Love-news, in faith.

Laun. By your leave, Sir.

Lor. Whither goest thou?

Laun. Marry, Sir, to bid my old mafter the Jew to

fup to-night with my new mafter the christian.

Lor. Hold, here, take this; tell gentle Jessica,

I will not fail her; fpeak it privately,

Go. Gentlemen, will you prepare for this mafque to

night?

I am provided of a torch-bearer.

[Exit Laun.

Sal. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it strait.
Sola. And fo will I.

Lor. Meet me, and Gratiano,

At Gratiano's lodging fome hour hence.

Sal. 'Tis good, we do fo.

Gra. Was not that letter from fair

effica?

[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 few her father come to heav'n,
It will be for his gentle daughter's fake:
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excufe,
That she is iffue to a faithlefs Jew.

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

SCENE, Shylock's House.

Sby.W

Enter Shylock and Launcelot.

[Exeunt.

ELL, thou fhalt fee, thy eyes fhall be thy

The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.
What, Jeffica!thou shalt not gormandize,
As thou hast done with me what, Jeffica!
And fleep and fnore, and rend apparel out.
Why, effica! 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 Jeffica.

Jef. Call you? what is your will?

Shy.

Shy. I am bid forth to fupper, Jefica;
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 loth to go;
There is fome ill a brewing towards my reft,
For I did dream of mony-bags to night:

Laun. I beseech you, Sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach.

Shy. So do I his.

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

ternoon.

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 publick street, To gaze on chriftian fools with varnish'd faces: But ftop my house's ears; I mean, my casements; Let not the found of fhallow foppery enter My fober house. 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.

Mistress, look out at window, for all this;
There will come a christian by,

Will be worth a Jewess' eye.

[Exit Laun. Shy. What fays that fool of Hagar's off-fpring, ha? Jef. His words were, farewel, 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 To 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 the doors after you; faft bind, faft find;
A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind.

Jef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft, I have a father, you a daughter, loft.

SCENE, the STREET.

Enter Gratiano and Salanio in masquerade.

[Exit:

[Exit:

Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo defired us to make a stand.

Sal. His hour is almost past.

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

Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pidgeons fly (7)
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 th' 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 skarfed bark puts from her native bay,

(7) O, ten times fafter Venus' Pidgeons fly.] This is a very odd Image, of Venus's Pidgeons flying to feal the Bonds of Love. The Senfe is obvious, and We know the Dignity due to Venus's Pidgeons. There was certainly a Joke intended here, which the Ignorance, or Boldnefs, of the first TranfcriIbers have murder'd : I doubt not, but Shakespear wrote the Line thus:

O, ten times fafter Venus' Widgeons fly
To feal, &c.

For Widgeon is not only the filly Bird fo call'd, but fignifies likewife, metaphorically, a filly Fellow, as Goofe, or Gudgeon, does now.

Mr. Warburton.

Hugg'd

Hugg'd and embraced by the ftrumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth the 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 ?

Jeffica above, in boy's cloaths.

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

Jef. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed;
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.

Jef. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains.
I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me;
For I am much asham'd of my exchange;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee
The pretty follies that themfelves 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 must I hold a candle to my fhames?
They in themselves, goodfooth, are too, too, light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, 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 feast.

Jef. I will make faft the doors, and gild my felf