SCENE V. The same. 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:- Laun. 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? What is your will? Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica; 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 Christian.-Jessica, my girl, Look to my house:-I am right loath to go; There is some ill a brewing towards my rest, For I did dream of money-bags to-night. 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 revenge. 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 drum, And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife, Laun. 5 Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit LAUN. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jes. His words were, Farewell, mistress; nothing else. 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 Edward, 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. GREY. 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; 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. [Exit. SCENE VI. The same. 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, That he did pace them first? All things that are, • The patch] A term for a fool. How like a younker, or a prodigal, The scarfed bark' puts from her native bay, 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, 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. 7 scarfed bark - i. e. the vessel decorated with flags. 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. But come at once; For the close night doth play the run-away, 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. And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Enter JESSICA, below. What, art thou come?-On, gentlemen, away; [Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO. Enter ANTONIO. Ant. Who's there? Gra. Signior Antonio? Ant. Fye, fye, Gratiano! where are all the rest? stay for 'Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay you: No masque to-night; the wind is come about, I have sent twenty out to seek for you. Gra. I am glad on't; I desire no more delight, Than to be under sail, and gone to-night. [Exeunt. |