Gratiano. I have a suit to you.

Bassanio.

You have obtained it. Gratiano. You must not deny me-I must go with you to Belmont.

Bassanio. Why, then you must. But hear thee Gratiano, Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voiceParts that become thee happily enough,

And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;

But where thou art not known, why, there they show
Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty

Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behaviour
I be misconstrued in the place I go to,

And lose my hopes.

Gratiano.

Signior Bassanio, hear me-
If I do not put on a sober habit,

Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely,
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say 'amen';
Use all the observance of civility,

Like one well studied in a sad ostent

To please his grandam, never trust me more.
Bassanio. Well, we shall see your bearing.

Gratiano. Nay, but I bar to-night, you shall not gauge me By what we do to-night.

Bassanio.

No, that were pity,

I would entreat you rather to put on

Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
That
purpose merriment...But fare you well,

I have some business.

Gratiano. And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest. But we will visit you at supper-time.

[they go their way

[2.3.] The door opens: JESSICA and LANCELOT come forth
Jessica. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so-
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee.
And, Lancelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest-
Give him this letter, do it secretly,

And so farewell: I would not have my father
See me talk with thee.

Lancelot. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew! if a Christian do not play the knave and get thee, I am much deceived...But adieu, these foolish drops do something drown my manly spirit; adieu!

Jessica. Farewell, good Lancelot....
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me

To be ashamed 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 promise, I shall end this strife,

[he goes

Become a Christian, and thy loving wife. [she goes within

[2.4.]

Another street in Venice

GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALERIO and SOLANIO
in lively conversation

Lorenzo. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time,
Disguise us at my lodging, and return

All in an hour.

Gratiano. We have not made good preparation. Salerio. We have not spoke as yet of torch-bearers. Solanio. "Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered, And better in my mind not undertook.

•

Lorenzo. "Tis now but four o'clock-we have two hours

To furnish us...

LANCELOT comes up

Friend Lancelot, what's the news? Lancelot [takes a letter from his wallet]. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify. Lorenzo. I know the hand. In faith 'tis a fair hand, And whiter than the paper it writ on,

Is the fair hand that writ.

Gratiano.

Love-news, in faith.

Lancelot. By your leave, sir.

Lorenzo. Whither goest thou?

Lancelot. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian. Lorenzo. Hold here, take this. [he gives him money Tell gentle Jessica [Lancelot goes

I will not fail her-speak it privately.
Go, gentlemen,

Will you prepare you for this masque to-night?
I am provided of a torch-bearer.

Salerio. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.

Solanio. And so will I.

Lorenzo.

Meet me and Gratiano

At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.

Salerio. "Tis good we do so.

[Salerio and Solanio leave them

Gratiano. Was not that letter from fair Jessica?

Lorenzo. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed

How I shall take her from her father's house,
What gold and jewels she is furnished with,
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake,
And never dare misfortune cross her foot

Unless she do it under this excuse

That she is issue to a faithless Jew...

Come, go with me. Peruse this, as thou goest.

Fair Jessica shall be

my torch-bearer.

[2.5.]

[they walk on

The street before Shylock's house
SHYLOCK and LANCELOT come forth

Shylock. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be
thy judge,

The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio...
What, Jessica!-Thou shalt not gormandise,
As thou hast done with me..." What, Jessica!—
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out....
Why, Jessica, I say!

Lancelot [bawls].

Why, Jessica!

Shylock. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. Lancelot. Your worship was wont to tell me I could do nothing without bidding.

JESSICA appears at the door

Jessica. Call you? What is your will?
Shylock. 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.

Lancelot. I beseech you, sir, go. My young master doth expect your reproach.

Shylock. So do I his.

Lancelot. 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'th' morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year, in th'afternoon.

Shylock. What, are there masques? Hear you me,
Jessica-

Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street
To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces:
But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements,
Let not the sound of shallow fopp'ry enter
My sober house....By Jacob's staff I swear
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
But I will go...Go you before me, sirrah—
Say I will come.
Lancelot.

I will go before, sir.... [as he departs he passes by the door and whispers Mistress, look out at window, for all this

There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jewess' eye.

[he goes

Shylock. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jessica. His words were, 'Farewell, mistress'nothing else.

Shylock. 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.
Therefore I part with him, and part with him
To one that I would have him help to waste
His borrowed purse....Well, Jessica, go in.
Perhaps I will return immediately.
Do as I bid you, shut doors after you.