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. Mistress, look out at window for all this—
There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jewess’ eye.
[Exit.]
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
His borrowed purse. Well, Jessica, go in,
Perhaps I will return immediately.
Do as I bid you, shut doors after you;
Fast bind, fast find—
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.
Exit.
Jes.
Farewell, and if my fortune be not cross’d,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost.
Exit.
¶
[Scene VI]
Enter [two of] the masquers, Gratiano and Salerio.
Gra.
This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo
Desir’d us to make 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’ pigeons fly
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 sits down?
Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy’d.
How like a younger or a prodigal
The scarfed 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 sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar’d by the strumpet wind!
Enter Lorenzo.
Sal.
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.
When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,
I’ll watch as long for you then. Approach,
Here dwells my father Jew. Ho! who’s within?
[Enter] Jessica above [in boy’s clothes].
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.
Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.
Jes.
Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains.
I am glad ’tis night, you do not look on me,
For I am much asham’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.
