am glad you are come; give me your present to one master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries; if I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any ground.— 0 rare fortune! here comes the man;-to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer.

Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO, and other Followers.

Bass. You may do so;-but let it be so hasted, that supper be ready at the furthest by five of the clock. See these letters delivered; put the liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.

Laun. To him, father.

Gob. God bless your worship!

[Exit a Servant.

Bass. Gramercy; would'st thou aught with me?
Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,-

Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man; that would, sir, as my father shall specify,

Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to

serve

Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and I have a desire, as my father shall specify,

Gob. His master and he (saving your worship's reverence) are scarce cater-cousins.

Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew, having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being I hope an old man, shall fruitify unto you,

Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would bestow upon your worship; and my suit is,

Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father.

I

Bass. One speak for both. What would you?

Laun. Serve you, sir.

Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, sir.

Bass. I know thee well; thou hast obtained thy suit.

Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day,
And hath preferred thee, if it be preferment,

To leave a rich Jew's service, to become

The follower of so poor a gentleman.

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

Bass. Thou speakest it well. Go, father, with thy son; Take leave of thy old master, and inquire

My lodging out. Give him a livery. [To his followers. 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; [Looking on his palm.] if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon a book, I shall have good fortune. Go to, here's a simple line of life! Here's a small trifle of wives. Alas, fifteen 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 feather-bed; here are simple 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear. - Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an [Exeunt LAUNCELOT and old GOBBO. Bass. 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-esteemed acquaintance; hie thee, go. Leon. My best endeavors shall be done herein. Enter GRATIANO.

eye.

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

Bass. 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
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild behavior,
I be misconstrued in the place I go to,

And lose my hopes.

Gra.

Seignior 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.
Bass. Well, we shall see your bearing.

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

Bass.

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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. The same. A Room in Shylock's House.

Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT.

Jess. 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, Launcelot, 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.

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 !

Jess. Farewell, good Launcelot.

Alack, what heinous sin is it in me

To be ashamed to be my father's child!

[Exit.

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.

[Exit.

SCENE IV. The same. A Street.

Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.

Lor. Nay, 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.

Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. Salan. '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 shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify.

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.

Laun. By your leave, sir.

Lor. Whither goest thou?

Love-news, in faith.

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 Jessica,

[Exit LAUNCElot.

I will not fail her;-speak it privately; go.-
Gentlemen,
Will you prepare you for this mask to-night?
I am provided of a torch-bearer.

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

Lor.

Meet me, and Gratiano,

At Gratiano's lodging, some hour hence.
Salar. 'Tis good we do so.

[Exeunt SALAR. and SALAN.

Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica?

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 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.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. The same. Before Shylock's House.

Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT.

Shy. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.What, Jessica!-Thou shalt not gormandize, As thou hast done with me;-what, Jessica!And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;Why, Jessica, I say!

Laun.

Why, Jessica!

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

Enter JESSICA.

Jes. Call you? What is your will?
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 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 six o'clock i' the morning, falling out that year on Ash Wednesday, was four year in the afternoon.

Shy. What are there masks? Hear you me, Jessica. Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked 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 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, sirrah Say, I will come.

Laun.

I will go before, sir;