have (6) a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon
a book, I shall have good fortune; go to, here's a fim-
ple line of life; here's a small trifle of wives; alas, fif-
teen wives is nothing, eleven widows and nine maids is
a fimple coming-in for one man! and then to 'scape drown-
ing thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of
a feather-bed, here are simple 'scapes! well, if fortune
be a woman, the's a good wench for this geer. Father,
come; I'll take my leave of the Jeru in the twinkling
of an eye.
[Ex. Laun. and Gob

Baf. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.
These things being bought and orderly bestowed,
Return in haste, for I do feast to night
My beft-esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.

Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein.

Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Where is your master?

Leon. Yonder, Sir, he walks;

Gra.

Signier Baffanio,

Baff. Gratiano!

Gra. I have a fuit to you.

Baff. You have obtain'd it.

[Ex. Leonardo.

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

Belmont.

Baff. Why, then you must: but hear thee, Gratiano, Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice;

(6) Well, if any Man in Italy have &c.] The Position of the Words makes the Sentence somewhat obfcure: Their natural Order should be This. Well, if any Man in Italy, which doth offer to swear upon a Book, have a fairer Table, I shall have good Luck. And the Humour of the Paffage seems This. Launcelot, a Joaker, and designedly a Blunderer, says the very Reverse of what he should do: which is, That if no Man in Italy, who would offer to take his Oath upon it, hath a fairer Table than He, he shall have good Fortune. The Banter may, partly, be on Chiromancy in general: but it is very much in Cha

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

Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild behaviour,
I be misconstru'd in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.

Gra. Signior Baffanio, 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 saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and figh, and say, Amen;
Use all the observance of civility,

Like one well studied in a sad oftent

To please his grandam; never truft me more.

Baff. Well, we shall fee your bearing.

4

Gra. Nay, but I bar to night, you shall not gage me

By what we do to night.

Baf. 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 forme business.

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

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Shylock's Houfe.

Enter Jesfica and Launcelot.

M forry, thou wilt leave my father fo;
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, Launcelot, soon at fupper shalt thou fee
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest;
Give him this letter, do it fecretly,

And fo farewel: I would not have my father

See

See me talk with thee.

Laun. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue; most beautiful Pagan, most sweet Jew! if a chriftian did not play the knave and get thee, I am much deceiv'd; but, adieu! these foolish drops do somewhat drown my manly spirit: adieu !

Jes. Farewel, good Launcelot..
Alack, what heinous fin is it in me,
To be asham'd to be my father's child F
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners: O Lorenzo,
If thou keep promife, I shall end this ftrife,
Become a christian, and thy loving wife.

SCENE, the STREET.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Solarino, and Salanio.

Lor.

hour.

N

AY, we will flink away in

supper-time, dif

guise us at my lodging, and return all in an

Gra. We have not made good preparation.
Sal. We have not spoke us 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 a-clock, we have two hours'
To furnish us. Friend Launcelot, what's the news?

Enter Launcelot, with a letter.

Laun. An' it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem 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, Sir, to bid my old master the Few tor

fup to night with my new master the christian.

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

The Merchant of VENICE.

not fail her; speak it privately.

113

- Gentlemen, will you prepare for this masque to

night?

[Exit Laun.

provided of a torch-bearer.

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

7. And fo will I.

-. Meet me, and Gratiano,

atiano's lodging fome hour hence.

'Tis good, we do fo.

7. Was not that letter from fair Jessica?

[Exit.

-. I must needs tell thee all; she hath directed,

I shall take her from her father's house;

gold and jewels she is furnish'd with;
page's suit she hath in readiness.
r the Jew her father come to heav'n,
1 be for his gentle daughter's fake :
never dare misfortune cross her foot,
she do it under this excuse,
fhe is issue to a faithless Jew.
go with me; peruse this, as thou goeft;
Fessica shall be my torch-bearer.

SCENE, Shylock's House.

Enter Shylock and Launcelot.

[Exeunt.

WELL thou shalt fee, thy eyes shall be thy

judge,

ifference of old Shylock and Bassanio.

Jessica! - thou shalt not gormandize,

eep and snore, and rend apparel out.

›u haft done with me - what, Jessica!

Jeffica! I say.

n. Why, Jessica!

Who bids thee call? I did not bid thee call.

n. Your worship was wont to tell me, that I

do nothing without bidding.

Enter Jessica.

: Call you? what is your will?

Shy.

i

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 pro

prodigal christian. Jeffica, my girl,
Look to my house; I am right loth to go;
There is fome ill a brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of mony-bags to night.

Laun. I beseech you, Sir, go; my young mafter doth expect your reproach. Shy. So do I his.

Laun. And they have conspired together, I will not fay, you shall fee a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on black monday last, at fix a clock i'th' morning, falling out that year on Afh-Wednesday was four year in the af

ternoon.

Shy. What! are there masques ? hear you me, Jeffica.
Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum,
And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the publick street,
To gaze on christian fools with varnish'd faces:
But stop my house's ears; I mean, my casements;
Let not the found of shallow foppery 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, firrah:
Say, I will come.

Laun. I will go before, Sir.
Mistress, look out at window, for all this;
There will come a christian by,

Will be worth a Jewess' eye.

::

[Exit Laun.

Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's off-fpring, ha?
Jef. His words were, farewel, mistress; nothing else.
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 waste