have (6) a fairer table, which doth offer to fwear upon
a book, I fhall have good fortune; go to, here's a fimple
line of life; here's a small trifle of wives; alas, fifteen
wives is nothing, eleven widows and nine maids is a
fimple coming-in for one man! and then to 'fcape drown-
ing thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of
a feather-bed, here are fimple 'fcapes! well, if fortune
be a woman, he's a good wench for this geer. Father,
come; I'll take my leave of the few in the twinkling
of an eye.
[Exeunt Laun. and Gob.
Baff. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.
Thefe things being bought and orderly bestowed,
Return in hafte, for I do feat to-night

My best-esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.
Leon. My beft endeavours shall be done herein.

Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Where is your master?

Leon. Yonder, Sir, he walks.

Gra. Signior Bafanis,

Baff. Gratiano!

Gra. I have a fuit to you.

Baff. You have obtain'd it.

[Exit Leonardo.

Gra. You must not deny me, I must go with you Belmont.

to

Bal. Why, then you muft: but hear thee, Gratiano, Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice; Parts, that become thee happily enough,

(6) Well, if any Man in Italy have, &c.] The Pofition of the Words makes the Sentence fomewhat obfcure: Their natural Order fhould be this. Well, if any Man in Italy, which doth offer to fwear upon a Bosk, bave a fairer Table, I fhail have good Luck. And. the Humour of the Paffage feems this. Launcelot, a Joaker, and defignedly a Blunderer, fays the very Reverie of what he fhould do: which is, That if no Man in Italy, who would offer to take his Oath upon it, bath a fairer Table than be, he shall have good Fortune. The Banter may, partly, be on Chiromancy in general: but it is very much in Character for Launcelot, who is a hungry Serving-man, to confider his Table before his Line of Life, or any other Points of Fortune,

And

And in fuch eyes as ours appear not faults ;
But where thou art not known, why, there they fhew
Something too liberal; pray thee, take pain
T'allay with fome cold drops of modesty

Thy fkipping spirit; left, through thy wild behaviour,
I be mifconftru'd in the place I go to,
And lofe my hopes.

Gra. Signior Baffanio, hear me.

If I do not put on a fober habit,

Talk with respect, and fwear 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;
Ufe all th' 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 boldest fuit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpofe merriment: but fare you well,

I have fome business.

Gra And I muft to Lorenzo and the reft; But we will vifit you at fupper-time.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Shylock's Houfe.

Jef. I'M

Enter Jeffica and Launcelot.

Jef. 'M forry, thou wilt leave my father fo;
Our houfe is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
Did rob it of fome tafte of tediousness;
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee.
And, Launcelot, foon at fupper 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.

Laun,

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! these foolish drops do fomewhat drown my manly fpirit: 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 Salanió.

Lor. N guife us at my lodging, and return all in an

AY, we will flink away in fupper-time, dif

hour.

Gra. We have not made good preparation.

Sal. We have not fpoke us yet of torch-bearers. Scla. '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 pleafe you to break up this, it fhall feem to fignify.

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 geeft thou?

Laun. Marry, Sir, to bid my old mafter the Jew to fap to-night with my new mafter the Chriftian.

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

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.

Gra. Was not that letter from fair Feica?

Sal. 'Tis good, we do fo.

Lor. I muft needs tell thee all; the 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 crofs her foot,
Unless he do it under this excufe,
That he is iffae to a faithlefs feav.

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

SCENE, Shylock's Houfe.

Enter Shylock and Launcelot.

[Exiti

[Exeunt

Shy. WELL, thou shalt fee, thy eyes fhall be thy judge,

The difference of old Shylock and Bajanio.

What, Jeffica! thou shalt not gormandize,
As thou hast done with me-what, Jeffica!.
And fleep and fnore, and rend apparel out.
Why, Ffica! I fay.

Laun. Why, Jefica!

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, Jeffica;
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. Jefica, my girl,
Look to my houfe; I am right loth to go;
There is fome ill a brewing towards my relt,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Laun. I beseech you, Sir, go; my young mafter doth expect your repicach.

Shy. So do I his.

Laun. And they have confpired together, I will not fay, you fhall fee a mafque; but if you do, then it was net 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 after

noon.

Shy. What are there mafques i 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 thrust 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 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.

Lauz. I will go before, Sir.

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

Will be worth a Jewels' eye.

[Exit Laun. Shy. What fays that fool of Hagar's off-fpring, ha f. His words were, farewel, miftrefs; nothing elfe. 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 wafte