SHYLOCK
Well, see, eyes shall be judge,
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.—
What, Jessica!—Thou not gormandize
As done with me;—What, Jessica!—
And sleep, and snore, and rend apparel out.
Why, Jessica, I say!
LAUNCELET
Why, Jessica!
SHYLOCK
Who bids call? I do not bid call.
LAUNCELET
Your worship was wont to tell me I could do nothing without bidding.
JESSICA
Call you? What is your will?
SHYLOCK
I am bid forth to supper, Jessica.
There are my keys. But 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 tonight.
LAUNCELET
I beseech you, sir, go. My young master expect your reproach.
SHYLOCK
So do I his.
LAUNCELET
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.
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, .
Say I will come.
LAUNCELET
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.
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 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.
JESSICA
Farewell, and if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost.