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Laun. I beseech you, Sir, go; my young mafter doch expect your reproach.
Shy. So do i his.
Laun. And they have conspired together, I will not say, you shall see a mafk; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on black monday lait, at fix a-clock i’th' morning, falling out that year on Ath-Wednesday was four in the afternoon.
Shy. What! are there masks ? hear you me, Jesica. Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife, Clamber not you up to the casements then, Nor thrust your head into the publick ftreet, To gaze on christian fools with varnish'd faces : But stop my house's ears; I mean, my casements; Let not the found 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
firrah : Say, I will come.
Laun. I will go before, Sir.
[Exit Laun Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring ? ha? Jef. His words were, farewel, mistress; nothing else.
Shy. The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder: Snail-flow in profit, but 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, Jefica, go ia ; Perhaps, I will return immediately; Do, as I bid you. Shut the doors after you ; fast bind, faft find; A proverb never Itale in thrifty mind.
[Exit. Jef. Farewel; and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter loft.
SCENE, the Street.
Enter Gratiano and Salanio in maskerade. Gra. HIS is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo
desired us to make a 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 (12)
Gra. That ever holds. Who riseth from a feast,
(12) O, ten times fafter Venus? Pigeons fly] This is a very odd image, of Venus's pigeons Aying to seal the bonds of love. The sense is obvious, and we know the dignity due to Venus's pigeons. There was certainly a joke intended here, which the ignorance or boldness, of the first transcribers have murder'd: I doubt not, but Sbak:speare wrote the line thus;
0, ten tiines fafter Venus' widgeons fly
To sea', &c. For widgeon is not only the filly bird so call'd, but signifies likewise, metaphorically, a fily fellow, as goose, or gudgeon, does now. The joke consists in the amb.guity of the signification, and to call the votaries of love Venus's widgeons has, I think, something very pretty. But the transcribers finding widgeon in the text, and knowing nothing of its figurative signification, substituted pigron as a more usual, or (perhaps, better founding) word. Butler has made the very same joke upon the presbyterians. Canto ist. pt. 1. v. 231.
Th'apostles of this fierce religion,
Like Mahomet’s were ass, and widgeon. The monks, in their fabulous account of Mahomet, said, he taught a pigeon to pick peas out of his ear the ends of his impofture.
With over-weather'd ribs and ragged fails,
Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode;
Jessica above, in boy's cloaths.
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.
Jef. Lorenzo certain, and my love, indeed; For who love I fo much ? and now who knows, But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
Lor. Heav'n and thy thoughts are witness, that thou art.
Jef. Here, catch this casket, it is worth the pains. I'm glad, 'tis night, you do not look on me; For I am much alham'd of my exchange ; But love is blind, and lovers cannot fee 'The pretty follies that themselves commit; For if they could, Cupid himself would bluth To see me thus transformed to a boy.
Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.
Jes. What, muft I hold a candle to my shames ?
Lor. So are you, sweet,
Jef. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
[Ex. from above. Gra. Now by my hood, a Gentile, and no few.
Lor. Befhrew me, but I love her heartily ;
Enter Jessica, to them.
Enter Anthonio. .
Arth. Fie, Gratiano, where are all the rest ?
Gra. I'm glad on't; I defire no more delight
SCENE changes to Belmont. Enter Portia with Morochius, and both their trains. Por.
7 The fev'ral caskets to this noble Prince. Now make your choice. [Three Caskets are discovered.
Mor. The first of gold, which this inscription bears, Who chuleth me, juall gain what many men defire. The second filver, which this promise carries, Who chuleth me, shall get as much as he deserves. This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt, Who chuseth me, must give and hazard all he hath. How shall I know, if I do chuse the right?
Por. The one of them contains my picture, Prince; If you chuse that, then I am yours withal.
Mor. Some God direct my judgment! let me see, I will survey the inscriptions back again : What says this leaden casket ?
W'ho chuseth me must give and hazard all be hathi