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Enter Shylock and LAUNCELOT.
Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, I could do nothing without bidding.
Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica;
Laun. I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach.
to feed upon · The prodigal Christian.] Shylock forgets his resolution. In a former scene he declares he will neither eat, drink, nor pray with Christians. Of this circumstance the poet was aware, and meant only to heighten the malignity of the character, by making him depart from his most settled resolve, for the prosecution of his rerenge. STEEVENS.
Shy. So do I his.
Laun. And 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
drúm, And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife, Clamber not you up to the casements then, Nor thrust your head into the publick 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. : 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 says that fool of Hagar's offspring,
. ha ? Jes. His words were, Farewell, mistress; no
s - then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on Black-Monday last,] “Black-Monday is Easter-Monday, and was so called on this occasion: in the 34th of Edward III. (1360) the 14th of April, and the morrow after Easter-day, King Ed. ward, with his host, lay before the city of Paris; which day was full of dark mist and hail, and so bitter cold, that many men died on their horses' backs with the cold. Wherefore, unto this day it hath been called the Blacke-Monday." Stowe, p. 264-6.
Shy. 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; 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.
Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit.
Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lo,
renzo Desir'd us to make stand. Salar.
His hour is almost past. Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells 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 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,
· 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 asham'd 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.
scarfed bark -] i. e, the vessel decorated with flags.
Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
So are you, sweet,
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, and no Jew.
Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily:
Enter Jessica, below. .
[Exit with JessicA and SALARINO.
Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano! where are all the rest?
Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no inore delight, Than to be under sail, and gone to-night.
[Exeunt. VOL. III.