Why, Jessica! I say.

Laun. Why, Jesica!
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?

Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jesica ;
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 loth to go;
There is some ill a brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of mony-bags to night.

Laun. I beseech you, Sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach.

Sby. So do I his.

Laun. And they have conspired together, I will not fay, you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on black monday last, at six a clock i'th' morning, falling out that year on Ath-Wednesday was four year in the afternoon. Shy. What! are there masques ? hear you me,

Jelica.
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 sound of shallow foppery enter
My fober house. By Jacob's staff, 1 swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to night:
But I will go; go you before me, firrah:

Say,

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 Jewels' eye.

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

Shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder:
Snail-Now in profit, but he sleeps 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
His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in ;
Perhaps, I will return immediately;
Do, as I bid

you.
Shut the doors after you ; fast bind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit.

Fef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not croft,
I have a father, you a daughter, loft. [Exit.

Ś C E N E VII.

The STREET.

Enter Gratiano and Salanio in masquerade. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo desired us to make a stand.

Sal. His hour is almost past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.
Sal. O, ten times faster Venus' Widgeons fly

To

To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

Gra. That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast, With that keen appetite that he fits down? Where is the horse, that doth untread again His tedious measures with th' unbated fire, That he did pace them first? all things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. How like a younker, or a prodigal, The skarfed bark puts from her native bay, Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind! How like the prodigal doth she return, With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails, Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumper wind!

Enter Lorenzo. Sal. Here comes Lorenzo : more of this here

after. Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait; When

you shall please to play the thieves for wives, I'll watch as long for you then; come, approach; Here dwells my father Jew. Hoa, who's within?

ignorance or boldness of tłe first tranfcribers have murder'd: I doubt not, but Shakespear wrote the line thus:

O, ten times fafter Venus' Widgeons Aly

To feal, &c. For Widgeon is not only one species of Pidgeons, but signified likewise, metaphorically, a filly fellow, as Goole, or Gudgton, does now. . The joke consists in the ambiguity of the signification. And the calling love's votaries, Venus's Widgeons, is in high humour. Butler uses the same joke in speaking of the presbyterians.

Th’ apostles of this fierce religion,

Like Mahomet's, were afs and Widgeon. Mahomet's ass or rather mule was famous : and the monks in their fabulous accounts of him said, he taught a pidgeon to pick peas out of his ears to carry on the ends of his imposture.

Jessica

Jessica above, in boy's cloaths.
Jes. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
Albeit I'll swear, that I do know your tongue.

Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jes. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed;
For who love I so much ? and now who knows,
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? ?
Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness, that

thou art.
Jes. Here catch this casket, it is worth the pains.
I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me;
For I am much alham'd of my exchange;
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.

Jef. What must I hold a candle to my shames ?
They in themselves, goodsooth, are too, too, light.
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love,
And I should be obscur'd.

Lor. So are you, sweet,
Ev’n in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once
For the close night doth play the run-away,
And we are staid for at Basanio's feast.

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild my self
With some more ducats, and be with you strait.

[Exit from above. Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.

Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily;
For she is wise, if I can judge of her ;
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true;
And true she is, as she hath prov'd her self;
And therefore like her self, wise, fair, and true,
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

Enter

a

Enter Jessica, to them.
What, art thou come? on, gentlemen, away;
Our masquing mates by this time for us stay. (Exit.

Enter Anthonio,
Anth. Who's there?
Gra. Signior Anthonio,

Antb. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest?
'Tis nine o'clock, our friends all stay for you ;
No masque to night; the wind is come about,
Bassanio presently will go aboard;
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.

Gra. I'm glad on't; I desire no more delight Than to be under fail, and gone to night. Exeunt.

(

Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains, Por, co, draw aside the curtains, and discover

The fev'ral caskets to this noble Prince. Now make your choice. [Three caskets are discover'd.

Mor. The first of gold, which this inscription bears, Who chuseth me, shall

gain what many men defire. The second silver, which this promise carries, Who chuseth me, shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all be bath. How shall I know, if I do chuse the right?

Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; If you chuse that, then I am yours withal.

Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me see, I will survey th' inscriptions back again ; What says this leaden casket ? Vol. II. K

who