SCENE IV. The Street. Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SOLARINO, and SALANIO. Lor. Nay, we will flink away in fupper time; Disguise us at my lodging, and return All in an hour. 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 o'clock; we have two hours To furnish us : Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter. Friend Launcelot, what's the news? Laun. An' it fhall please you to break up this, it shall 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, fir. Lor. Whither goeft thou? Laun. Marry, fir, to bid my old mafter the Jew to Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? [Exit LAUN. Sal. Ay, marry, I'll begone about it straight. Lor. Meet me and Gratiano, At Gratiano's lodging, fome hour hence. Sal.. 'Tis good we do so. [Exeunt SAL. and SOLA Lor. I needs muft tell thee all the hath directed Unlefs fhe do it under this excufe, That she is iffue to a faithlefs Jew. Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goeft: SCENE V. [Exeunt. SHYLOCK'S Houfe. Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT. Shy. Well, thou fhalt fee, thy eyes fhall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Baffanio :What, Jeffica!-thou shalt not gormandize, As thou haft done with me ;-what, Jeffica !And fleep and fnore, and rend apparel out: Why, Jeffica, I fay! 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 JESSICA. Jef. Call you? What is your will? Laun. I beseech you, fir, go; my young mafter doth expect your reproach. Shy. So do I his. Laun. And they have confpired together,—I will not fay, you shall fee a mafque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nofe fell a bleeding on BlackMonday laft,[5] at fix o'clock i' the morning, falling out [4] Shakespeare has made Shylock forget his refolution. In a former fcene he declares he will neither eat, drink, nor pray with the Chriftians. Of this circrumitance the poet was aware, and meant only to heighten the malignity of the character, by making him depart from his moft fettled refolve, for the profecution of his revenge. STEEV. [5] "Black-Monday is a moveable day; it is Eafter-Monday, and was fo called on this occafión: In the 34th of Edward III. (1360) the 14th of April, and the morrow after Eafter-day, King Edward, with his hoft, lay before the city of Paris; which day was full dark of mist and hail, and fo bit that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year in the af ternoon. Shy. What! are there mafques?—Hear you me, Jeffica, Laun. I will go before, fir :— › [Exit. LAUN.. Shy. What fays that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jef. His words were, Farewel, miftrefs; 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; Do, as I bid you :-.. Shut the doors after you; fast bind, faft find ; A proverb never ftale in thrifty mind. [Exit. Jef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft, I have a father, you a daughter, loft. [Exity SCENE VI. The Street. Enter GRATIANO and SALANIO in maf querade. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Defired us to make a stand. Sal. His hour is almost past. ter cold, that many men died on their horfes' backs with the cold. Wherefore, unto this day, it hath been called the Blacke-Monday." Stowe, Dr. 364-6.. GRAY. Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock. Sal. O, ten times fafter Venus' pigeons fly Gra. That ever holds. Who rifeth from a feast, The fkarfed bark puts from her naked bay, Enter LORENZO. Sal. 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: When you fhall please to play the thieves for wives, Jef. Who are you? tell me, for more certainty, Jef. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed; Lor. Heaven and thy thoughts are witnefs, that thou art.. I am glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me, Lor. Defcend, for you must be my torch-bearer. Why, 'tis an office of difcovery, love, Lor. So are you, sweet, Even in the lovely garnifh of a boy. But come at once; For the close night doth play the run-away, Jef. I will make faft the doors, and gild myself Enter JESSICA below. What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away, [Exit, with JESSICA, &a. Enter ANTHONIO. Anth. Who's there? Gra. Signior Anthonio? Anth. Fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest? 'Tis nine o'clock, our friends all ftay for you :---No mafque to-night;-the wind is come about, Baffanio presently will go aboard : I have sent twenty out to feek for you. Gra. I am glad on't; I defire no more delight Than to be under fail, and gone to-night. SCENE VII. [Exeunt. Belmont. Enter PORTIA, with the Prince of Morocco, and both their trains. Por. Go, draw afide the curtains, and discover The feveral cafkets to this noble prince. Now make your choice. [Three caskets are discovered. [6] A jeft rifing from the ambiguity of Gentile, which fignifies both aHeathen, and one well born. JOHNS. |