ACT II. SCENE V.
Venice. Before SHYLOCK'S house
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 gormandize
As thou hast done with me- What, Jessica!-
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out-
Why, Jessica, I say!
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| LAUNCELOT. | Why, Jessica!
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| SHYLOCK. | Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
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| LAUNCELOT. | Your worship was wont to tell me I could do nothing
without bidding.
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Enter JESSICA
| JESSICA. | Call you? What is your will?
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| 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.
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| LAUNCELOT. | write_ads(1,1)> I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your
reproach.
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| SHYLOCK. | So do I his.
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| LAUNCELOT. | 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 Black Monday last at six o'clock
i' th' morning, falling out that year on Ash Wednesday was four
year, in th' afternoon.
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| 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 to-night;
But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah;
Say I will come.
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| 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
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| SHYLOCK. | What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?
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| JESSICA. | His words were 'Farewell, mistress'; nothing else.
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| 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 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
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Exit
| JESSICA. | Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost
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Exit
Next
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