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The follower of fo poor a gentleman.
Laun. The old proverb is very well parted between my master Shylock and you, fir; you have the grace of god, fir, and he hath enough.
Ball. Thou fpeak'ft it well: go, father, with thy fon;
My lodging out; give him a livery,
More guarded than his fellows: fee 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 fwear upon a book, I shall have good fortune-go to, here's a fimple line of life; here's a small trifle of wives; alas, fifteen wives is nothing; eleven widows and nine maids is a fimple coming in for one man! and then, to 'fcape drowning thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a featherbed; here are fimple 'fcapes! well, if fortune be a woman, fhe's a good wench for this geer. Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an [Ex. Laun. and Gob. Baff. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this; These things being bought, and orderly bestowed, Return in hafte, for I do feaft to-night My best esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go. Leon. My beft endeavours shall be done herein.
Gra. Nay, you must not deny me; I must go
Bass. Why, then you must: but hear thee, Gratiano,
And in fuch eyes as ours appear not faults;
And lofe my hopes.
Gra. Signior Bassanio, hear me. If I do not put on a fober habit,
Talk with respect, and fwear but now and then,
Like one well study'd in a fad oftent
To please his grandam; never trust me more.
Baff. Well, we fhall fee your bearing.
Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night; you fhall not gage me By what we do to-night.
Baff. No, that were pity:
I would entreat you rather to put on
Your boldeft fuit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose merriment: but fare you well,
Gra. And I muft to Lorenzo and the rest: But we will vifit you at fupper-time.
Enter Jeffica, and Launcelot.
Jef. I'M forry, thou wilt leave my father fo,
But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee.
And so farewel: I would not have my father
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 fomewhat drown my manly fpirit: adieu.
Jef. Farewel, good Launcelot.
Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Solarino, and Salanio.
AY, we will flink away in fupper-time, disguise us
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 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 that 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 to-night with my new mafter the christian.
Lor. Hold, here, take this; tell gentle Jeffica
I will not fail her; fpeak it privately.
Go, gentlemen, will you prepare for th' mask to-night?
I am provided of a torchbearer.
Sal. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
Lor. Meet me, and Gratiano,
At Gratiano's lodging fome hour hence.
Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jeffica?
Enter Shylock, and Launcelot.
ELL, thou shalt fee, thy eyes fhall be thy judge,
What, Jeffica! — thou shalt not gormandize
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.
Jef. Call you? what is your will?
Shy. I am bid forth to fupper, Jeffica;
There are my keys: but wherefore fhould I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
Laun. I beseech you, fir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach.
Shy. So do I his.
Laun. And they have confpired together, I will not fay, you shall see a mask; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nofe fell a bleeding on black monday laft, at fix o'clock i' th' morning, falling out that year on afh-wednesday was four year in the afternoon.
Shy. What are these masks? Hear you me, Jelica,