GRA. You must not deny me, I must go with you to Belmont. BASS. Why, then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano, And in fuch eyes as ours appear not faults; But where thou art not known, why, there they shew Thy skipping fpirit; left, through thy wild behaviour, And lose my hopes. GRA. Signior Baffanio, hear me. If I do not put on a fober habit, Talk with refpect, and swear but now and then, Like one well ftudied in a fad oftent To please his grandam; never trust me more. BASS. Well, we shall fee your bearing. GRA. Nay, but I bar to-night, you shall not gage me By what I do to-night. BASS. No, that were pity. I would entreat you rather to put on Your boldest fuit 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 rest: But we will vifit you at fupper-time. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Changes to SHYLOCK's house. JES. I'm forry, thou wilt leave my father fo; And fo farewel: I would not have my father LAUN. Adieu!—Tears exhibit my tongue. [afide.] Most beautiful Pagan,-most sweet Jew! if a christian did not play the knaye and get thee, I am much deceiv'd. But, adieu! these foolish drops do fomewhat drown my manly spirit: adieu! JES. Farewel, good Launcelot. To be afham'd to be my father's child? SCENE V. The street. Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Solarino, and Salanio. [Exit. [Exit. LOR. Nay, we will flink away at fupper-time, disguise us at my lodging, and return all in an hour. GRA. We have not made good preparation. LOR. 'Tis now but four o'clock, we have two hours Enter Launcelot, with a letter. Friend Launcelot, what's the news? LAUN. An' it shall please you to break up this, it fhall 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, fir. LOR. Whither goest thou?. LAUN. Marry, fir, to bid my old mafter the Jew to fup with my new mafter the chriftian. LOR. Hold, here, take this. -Tell gentle Jeffica, I will not fail her. Speak it privately. Go.-Gentlemen, will you prepare for this mafque to night? I am provided of a torch-bearer. SAL. Ay marry, I'll be gone about it strait. SOLA. And fo will I. LOR. Meet me and Gratiano, [Exit Laun. At Gratiano's lodging fome hour hence. SOL. 'Tis good we do fo. [Exit. 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 she is furnish'd with ; What page's fuit she hath in readiness. If e'er the Jew her father come to heav'n, Come, go with me; peruse this, as thou goest. Fair Jeffica fhall be my torch-bearer. SCENE VI. SHYLOCK's house. Enter Shylock and Launcelot. [Exeunt. SHY. Well, thou shalt fee, thy eyes shall be the judge, LAUN. Why, Jeffica! 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. JES. Call you? what is your will? SHY. I am bid forth to fupper, Jeffica; There are my keys. But wherefore fhould I go? LAUN. I beseech you, fir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach. SHY. So do I his. LAUN And they have confpir'd 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 fix o'clock i'th'morning, falling out that year on Ash-wednesday was four year in the afternoon. SHY. What! are there mafques? Hear you me, Jeffica, Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile fqeaking 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 stop my house's ears; I mean my casements; Let not the found of thallow foppery enter My fober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear, I have no mind of feasting forth to-night: But I will go. Go you before me, firrah: Say, I will come. LAUN. I will go before, fir. Miftrefs, look out at window, for all this; Will be worth a Jewefs' eye. [Exit Laun. More than the wild-cat: drones hive not with me, |