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The follower of so poor a gentleman.

Laun. The old proverb is very well parted between my master Shylock and you, fir; you have the grace of god, sir, and' he hath enough.

Bal. Thou speak’st it well: go, father, with thy fon;
Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
My lodging out; give him a livery,
More guarded than his fellows: see it done.

Laun. Father, in; I cannot get a service, no? I have ne'er a tongue in my head ? well, "if any man in Italy have a fairer table — which doth offer to swear upon a book, I fall have good fortune - go to, here's a simple line of life; here's a small trifle of wives; alas, fifteen wives is nothing; eleven widows and nine maids is a simple coming in for one man, and then, to 'scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a featherbed; here are simple 'scapes ! well, if fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this geer. Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.

[Ex. Laun. and Gob. Baj. 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 best esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.

Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein.

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you to Belmont.

Gra. Nay, you must not deny me; I must go

Baj. Why, then you must: but hear thee, Gratiano,
Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice,
Parts 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
T'allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit, left through thy wild behaviour
I be misconstru'd in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.

Gra. Signior Bassanio, hear me.
If I do not put on a sober habit,
Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayerbooks in my pockets, look demurely,
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes
Thus with mine hat, and figh, and say, amen;
Use all th’ observance of civility,
Like one well study'd in a sad ostent
To please his grandam; never trust me more.

Bal. Well, we shall see your bearing,

Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not gage me
By what we do to-night.

Bas. 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.

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



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Enter Jessica, and Launcelot.
Jes. T'M 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, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest;
Give him this letter, do it secretly,
And so farewel: I would not have my father
See me talk with thee.

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


. Jes. Farewel, good Launcelot. Alack, what heinous sin is it in me, To be asham'd 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, Become a christian, and thy loving wife.



SCENE V. Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Solarino, and Salanio. Lor. AY, we will slink away in supper-time, disguise us

at my lodging, and return all in an hour. Gra. We have not made good preparation. Sal. We have not spoke as yet of torchbearers.

. Sola. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered,

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And better, in my mind, not undertook.

Lor. 'Tis now but four o'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 feem to signify.

Lor. 'I know the hand; in faith, 'tis a fair hand;
And whiter than the paper that 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, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup to-night with my new master the christian.

Lor. Hold, here, take this; tell gentle Jeffica
I will not fail her; speak it privately.
Go, gentlemen, will you prepare for th' mask to-night?
I am provided of a torchbearer.

[Exit Laun. Sal

. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight. Sola. And so will I.

Lor. Meet me, and Gratiano,
At Gratiano's lodging fome hour hence.
Sal. '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 shall take her from her father's house,
What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with,
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heav'n,
It will be for his gentle daughter's fake:
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,
That she is issue to a faithless Jew !

with me; peruse this as thou goeft,
Fair Jessica shall be
shall be my torchbearer.

[Exeunt. SCENE

Come, go

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Enter Shylock, and Launcelot.
ELL, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge,

difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.
What, Jessica! — thou shalt not gormandize
As thou hast done with me what, Jesica !
And sleep, and snore, and rend apparel out.
Why, Jesica! I say.

Laun. Why, Jeffica!
Shy. Who bids thee call? I did not bid thee call.
Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, I could do nothing
without bidding

Enter Jessica Jef. Call you? what is


will ?
Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jelica;
There are my keys: but wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:

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.

Shy. So do I his.

Laun. And they have conspired together, I will not say, you shall see a mask; 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 these masks? Hear you me, Jessica, Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum,


But yet

I'll go

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