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- Edition: The Merchant of Venice
The Merchant of Venice (Folio 1, 1623)
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170The Merchant of Venice.
865Lock vp my doores, and when you heare the drum
866And the vile squealing of the wry-neckt Fife,
867Clamber not you vp to the casements then,
873I haue no minde of feasting forth to night:
874But I will goe: goe you before me sirra,
875Say I will come.
877Mistris looke out at window for all this;
878There will come a Christian by,
879Will be worth a Iewes eye.
881ha.
883Shy. The patch is kinde enough, but a huge feeder:
885More then the wilde-cat: drones hiue not with me,
886Therefore I part with him, and part with him
887To one that I would haue him helpe to waste
889Perhaps I will returne immediately;
891finde,
895Enter the Maskers, Gratiano and Salino.
899Gra. And it is meruaile he out-dwels his houre,
900For louers euer run before the clocke.
902To steale loues bonds new made, then they are wont
903To keepe obliged faith vnforfaited.
905With that keene appetite that he sits downe?
906Where is the horse that doth vntread againe
910How like a yonger or a prodigall
911The skarfed barke puts from her natiue bay,
912Hudg'd and embraced by the strumpet winde:
913How like a prodigall doth she returne
914With ouer-wither'd ribs and ragged sailes,
915Leane, rent, and begger'd by the strumpet winde?
916Enter Lorenzo.
918after.
920bode,
921Not I, but my affaires haue made you wait:
923Ile watch as long for you then: approach
924Here dwels my father Iew. Hoa, who's within?
925Iessica aboue.
926Iess. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
927Albeit Ile sweare that I do know your tongue.
928Lor. Lorenzo, and thy Loue.
929Ies. Lorenzo certaine, and my loue indeed,
930For who loue I so much? and now who knowes
931But you Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
932Lor. Heauen and thy thoughts are witness that thou
933art.
935I am glad 'tis night, you do not looke on me,
936For I am much asham'd of my exchange:
937But loue is blinde, and louers cannot see
938The pretty follies that themselues commit,
947Euen in the louely garnish of a boy: but come at once,
948For the close night doth play the run-away,
952Gra. Now by my hood, a gentle, and no Iew.
955And faire she is, if that mine eyes be true,
959Enter Iessica.
960What, art thou come? on gentlemen, away,
962Enter Anthonio.
963Ant. Who's there?
964Gra. Signior Anthonio?
966'Tis nine a clocke, our friends all stay for you,
967No maske to night, the winde is come about,
972Enter Portia with Morrocho, and both their traines.
975Now make your choyse.
980This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt,
Por. The