Gra. We have not made good preparation. Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. Salan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd; And better, in my mind, not undertook. Lor. 'Tis now but four o'clock; we have two hours To furnish us: Enter LAUNCELOT, with a Letter. Friend Launcelot, what's the news? Laun. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify. 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. Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight. Salan. And so will I. Lor. Meet me, and Gratiano, At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence. Salar. 'Tis good we do so. [Exeunt SALAR. and Salan. Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica? How I shall take her from her father's house; Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt. SCENE V. 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: - 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 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, -І 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-Monday last, at six o'clock i'the morning. Shy. What! are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica: • Invited. Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, Laun. I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this; else. Shy. Thepatch 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; Do, as I bid you, Shut doors after you : Fast bind, fast find; [Exit. Jes. Farewell: and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. SCENE VI. [Exit. The same. Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masked. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo 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, The scarfed bark puts from her native bay. How like the prodigal doth she return; With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails. Enter LORENZO. Salar. 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; 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, 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 obscur'd. Lor. So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnish of a boy. For the close night doth play the run-away, Jes. I will make fast the doors, and join you For she is wise, if I can judge of her; Enter JESSICA, below. What, art thou come? - On, gentlemen, away; [Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO. Enter ANTΟΝΙΟ. Ant. Who's there? Gra. Signior Antonio? Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano? where are all the rest? 'Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you: |