H

Gra. Signior Bassanio, hear me,
If I do not put on a fober Habit,

Talk with Respect, and Swear but now and then,
Wear Prayer-books in my Pockets, look demurely,
Nay, more, while Grace is faying, hood mine Eyes
Thus with my Hat, and figh and fay, Amen;
Use all the obfervance of Civility,

Like one well ftudied in a fad oftent

To please his Grandam, never trust me more.
Baff. Well, we fhall fee your bearing.

Gra. Nay, but I bar to Night, you shall not gage me
By what we do to Night.

Baff. No, that were pity.

I would entreat you rather to put on

Your boldeft Suit of Mirth, for we have Friends
That purpose Merriment: But fare you well,

I have fome Business.

Gra. And I must to Lorenzo and the reft: But we will vifit you at Supper-time.

Enter Jeffica and Launcelot.

Jef. I am forry thou wilt leave my Father fo,
Our House is Hell, and thou a merry Devil
Did'ft rob it of fome tafte of Tediousness;
But fare thee well, there is a Ducat for thee,
And Launcelot, foon at Supper fhalt thou fee
Lorenzo, who is thy new Mafter's Gueft,
Give him this Letter, do it fecretly,

And fo farewel: I would not have my Father
See me talk with thee.

[Exeunt.

Laun. Adieu; Tears exhibit my Tongue, moft beautiful
Pagan, moft fweet Jew; if a Chriftian did not play the
Knave and get thee, I am much deceived; But adieu, these
foolish Drops do fomewhat drown my manly Spirit :
Adieu.
[Exit.

Jef Farewel, good Launcelot. ·
Alack, what hainous Sin 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 Strife,
Become a Chriftian, and thy loving Wife.

[Exit.

Enter

Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Solarino, and Salanio.
Lor. Nay, we will flink away in Supper-time,
Difguife us at my Lodging, and return all in an Hour.
Gra. We have not made good Preparation.
Sal. We have not fpoke as 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 à Clock, we have two Hours To furnish us. Friend Launcelot, what's the News? Enter Launcelot with a Letter.

Laun. And 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 to bid my old Mafter the Jew to Sup to Night with my new Mafter the Christian.

Lor. Hold here, take this, tell gentle Feffica

I will not fail her, speak it privately.

Go, Gentlemen, will you prepare you for this Mask to Night?

I am provided of a Torch-bearer.

Sal. Ay marry, I'll be gone about it strait.

Sola. And fo will I.

[Exit Laun.

Lor. Meet me and Gratiano at Gratiano's Lodging

Some hour hence.

Sal. 'Tis good we do fo.

Gra. Was not that Letter from fair Jeffica?

Lor. I must needs tell thee all, she hath directed

How I fhall take her from her Father's House,
What Gold and Jewels fhe is furnish'd with,
What Page's Suit the hath in readiness;
If e'er the Jew 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 the is Iffue to a faithlefs Jew.
VOL. II.

G

[Exit.

Come

Come go with me, perufe this as thou goest,
Fair Jeffica fhall be my Torch-bearer.

Enter Shylock and Launcelot.

[Exeunt.

Shy. Well, thou shalt fee, thy Eyes fhall be thy Judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio;

What Jeffica! Thou shalt not Gormandize
As thou haft done with me-What Jeffica!
And fleep, and fnore, and rend Apparel out.
Why Jeffica, I fay.

Laun. Why Jeffica!

Shy. Who bids thee call? I did not bid thee call.
Laun. Your Worship was wont to tell me
I could do nothing without bidding.

Enter Jeffica.

go ?

Jef. Call you? What is your will?
Shy. I am bid forth to Supper, Jeffica,
There are my Keys: But wherefore should I
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 laft Night.
Laun. I befeech
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 fhall fee a Mask, but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my Nofe fell a bleeding on Black Munday last, at fix a Clock i'th' morning, falling out that Year on AshWednesday was four Year in the afternoon.

Shy. What are their Masks? Hear you me, Jessica,
Lock up my Doors, and when you hear the Drum
And the vile fquealing 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 Houfe's Ears, I mean my Cafements,
Let not the found of fhallow Foppery enter
My fober House. By Jacob's Staff I fwear,

I have no mind of Feafting forth to Night:
But I will go; go you before me, Sirrah:
Say I will come.

Laun. I will go before, Sir.

Miftrefs, look out at Window for all this;
There will come a Christian by,

Will be worth a Jew's Eye.

[Exit Laun.

Shy. What fays that Fool of Hagar's Off-fpring? ha.
Jef. His words were Farewel Miftrefs, nothing elfe.
Shy. The Patch is kind enough, but a huge Feeder :
Snail-flow in profit, but 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 wafte
His borrowed Purfe. Well, Jeffica, go in,

Perhaps I will return immediately;

Do as I bid you, fhut 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.

Enter Gratiano and Salanio in Masquerade.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Gra. This is the Pent-houfe under which Lorenzo defired

us to make a ftand.

Sal. His hour is almoft paft.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,

For Lovers ever run before the Clock.

Sal. O ten times fafter Venus Pigeons fly

To steal Loves Bonds new made, than they are wont
To keep obliged Faith unforfeited.

Gra. That ever holds. Who rifeth from a Feast
With that keen Appetite that he fits down?
Where is the Horfe that doth untread again
His tedious Meafures with the unbated Fire
That he did pace them firft? All things that are,
Are with more Spirit chafed than enjoy'd.
How like a Younker or a Prodigal

The skarfed Bark puts from her native Bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the ftrumpet Wind;
How like a Prodigal fhe doth return
With over-wither'd Ribs and ragged Sails,
Lean, rent and beggar'd by the ftrumpet Wind?

G 2

Enter

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 shall pleafe to play the Thieves for Wives,
I'll watch as long for you then; approach;

Here dwells my Father Jew. Hoa, who's within?
Jeffica above in Boy's Cloths.

Jef Who are you? tell me for more certainty, Albeit I'll 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, Lorenze, 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 am glad 'tis Night, you do not look on me,

For I am much afham'd of my exchange;
But Love is blind, and Lovers cannot fee
The pretty Follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himfelf would blush
To fee me thus transformed to a Boy.

Lor. Defcend, for you must be my Torch-bearer.
Jef. What, muft I hold a Candle to my Shame?
They in themselves goodfooth are too too light.
Why, 'tis an Office of difcovery, Love,
And I fhould be obscur'd.

Lor. So you are, Sweet,

Even in the lovely garnish of a Boy; but come at once,
For the clofe Night doth play the Run-away,

And we are ftaid for at Baffanio's Feaft.

Jef. I will make faft the Doors, and gild my felf
With fome more Ducats, and be with you ftraight.
Gra. Now by my Hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor. Befhrew me but I love her heartily.

For fhe is wife, if I can judge of her,
And fair fhe is, if that mine Eyes be true,
And true fhe is, as the hath prov'd her felf;
And therefore like her felf, wife, fair, and true,
Shall the be placed in my conftant Soul.

Enter