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But though I am a daughter to his blood,
Lor. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time;
Gra. We have not made good preparation.
Salan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order’d;
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;
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, I will not fail her ;-speak it privately; go.Gentlemen,
[Exit. Launcelot. Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? I am provided of a torch-bearer.
Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
Meet me, and Gratiano,
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,
The same. Before Shylock's House.
Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT.
Why, Jessica !
Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, I could do nothing without bidding.
Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica;
in hate, to feed upon
Laun. I beseech you, sir, go on; 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 masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on BlackMonday last," at six o'clock i’the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year in the after
Shy. What, are there masques ? Hear you me, Jessica : 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 public 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 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.-
There will come a Christian by,
[Erit. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? Jes. His words were, Farewell, mistress; nothing else.
Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder, Snail-slow in profit, and 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
Black-Monday last,] “ Black-Monday is Easter-Monday, and was so called on this occasion : in the 34th of Edward III. (1360.) the 14th of April, and the morrow after Easter-day, King Edward, with his host, lay before the city of Paris : which day was full of dark mist and hail, and so bitter cold, that many men died on their horses' backs with the cold. Wherefore, unto this day it hath been called the Blacke-Monday.” Stowe, p. 264–6.--Grey.
- fife,]-here means the fifer, and not his instrument. Shakspeare is not singular in this application of the word.
patch—] A fool, probably from the Italian pazzo from wearing a patched or party-coloured coat.-NARES.
His borrowed purse. <Well, Jessica, go in;
Jes. Farewell ; and if my fortune be not crost,
Enter GraTIANO and SALARINO, masqued.
Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo
His hour is almost past.
Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly
Gra. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast,
Salar. 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;
scarfed bark-] i. e. The vessel decorated with flags.
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
Enter Jessica above, in boy's clothes.
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. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou art.
Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains.
Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames?
So are you, sweet,
Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
[Exit, from above. Gra. Now, by my hood,' a Gentile, and no Jew.
Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily:
by my hood,] The hood of his masked habit, by which he swears in imitation of the friars with whom this oath was familiar.-Gentile in our author's time was frequently written Gentle, as indeed it is at this place, in the first folio and one of the quarto's, and the compliment here conveyed arises from the ambiguity of the word.