| [Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT] | |
| SHYLOCK | Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:-- What, Jessica!--thou shalt not gormandise, As thou hast done with me:--What, Jessica!-- And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;-- Why, Jessica, I say! |
| LAUNCELOT | Why, Jessica! |
| SHYLOCK | Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. |
| LAUNCELOT | Your worship was wont to tell me that I could do nothing without bidding. |
| [Enter Jessica] | |
| JESSICA | Call you? what is your will? |
| SHYLOCK | 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. |
| LAUNCELOT | I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect your reproach. |
| SHYLOCK | So do I his. |
| LAUNCELOT | An 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 Black-Monday last at six o'clock i' the morning, falling out that year on 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 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. |
| LAUNCELOT | I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window, for all this, There will come a Christian boy, will be worth a Jewess' eye. |
| [Exit] | |
| 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 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] |