William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William Shakespeare

Ash-Wednesday was four year in the afternoon.

       SHYLOCK.

       What! are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:

       Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum,

       And the vile squealing 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 fopp’ry enter

       My sober house. By Jacob’s staff, I swear

       I have no mind of feasting forth tonight;

       But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah;

       Say I will come.

       LAUNCELOT.

       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 LAUNCELOT.]

       SHYLOCK.

       What says that fool of Hagar’s offspring, ha?

       JESSICA.

       His words were ‘Farewell, mistress’; nothing else.

       SHYLOCK.

       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 borrow’d 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.]

       JESSICA.

       Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,

       I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

       [Exit.]

      SCENE 6. The same.

       [Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.]

       GRATIANO.

       This is the penthouse under which Lorenzo

       Desir’d us to make stand.

       SALARINO.

       His hour is almost past.

       GRATIANO.

       And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,

       For lovers ever run before the clock.

       SALARINO.

       O! ten times faster Venus’ pigeons fly

       To seal love’s bonds new made than they are wont

       To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

       GRATIANO.

       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 younker 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!

       SALARINO.

       Here comes Lorenzo; more of this hereafter.

       [Enter LORENZO.]

       LORENZO.

       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.]

       JESSICA.

       Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,

       Albeit I’ll swear that I do know your tongue.

       LORENZO.

       Lorenzo, and thy love.

       JESSICA.

       Lorenzo, certain; and my love indeed,

       For who love I so much? And now who knows

       But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

       LORENZO.

       Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that thou art.

       JESSICA.

       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.

       LORENZO.

       Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.

       JESSICA.

       What! must I hold a candle to my shames?

       They in themselves, good sooth, are too-too light.

       Why, ‘tis an office of discovery, love,

       And I should be obscur’d.

       LORENZO.

       So are you, sweet,

       Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.

       But come at once;

       For the close night doth play the runaway,

       And we are stay’d for at Bassanio’s feast.

       JESSICA.

       I will make fast the doors, and gild myself

       With some moe ducats, and be with you straight.

       [Exit above.]

       GRATIANO.

       Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew.

       LORENZO.

       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 herself;

       And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true,

       Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

       [Enter JESSICA.]

       What, art thou come? On, gentlemen, away!

       Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.

       [Exit with JESSICA and SALARINO.]

       [Enter ANTONIO]

       ANTONIO.

       Who’s there?

       GRATIANO.