836Iew. Well, thou shall see, thy eyes shall be thy iudge,

837The difference of old Shylocke and Bassanio;

838What Iessica, thou shalt not gurmandize

839As thou hast done with me: what Iessica?

840And sleepe, and snore, and rend apparrell out.

841Why Iessica I say.

842Clo. Why Iessica.

843Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.

844Clo. Your worship was wont to tell me

845I could doe nothing without bidding.

847Ies. Call you? what is your will?

848Shy. I am bid forth to supper Iessica,

849There are my Keyes: but wherefore should I go?

850I am not bid for loue, they flatttr me,

851But yet Ile goe in hate, to feede vpon

852The prodigall Christian. Iessica my girle,

853Looke to my house, I am right loath to goe,

854There is some ill a bruing towards my rest,

855For I did dreame of money bags to night.

856Clo. I beseech you sir goe, my yong Master

857Doth expect your reproach.

858Shy. So doe I his.

859Clo. And they haue conspired together, I will not say

860you shall see a Maske, but if you doe, then it was not for

861nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on blacke monday

P last,

862last, at six a clocke ith morning, falling out that yeere on

863ashwensday was foure yeere in th' afternoone.

864Shy. What are their maskes? heare you me Iessica,

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,

868Nor thrust your head into the publique streete

869To gaze on Christian fooles with varnisht faces:

870But stop my houses eares, I meane my casements,

871Let not the sound of shallow fopperie enter

872My sober house. By Iacobs staffe I sweare,

873I haue no minde of feasting forth to night:

874But I will goe: goe you before me sirra,

875Say I will come.

876Clo. I will goe before sir.

877Mistris looke out at window for all this;

878There will come a Christian by,

879Will be worth a Iewes eye.

880Shy. What saies that foole of Hagars off-spring?

881ha.

882Ies. His words were farewell mistris, nothing else.

883Shy. The patch is kinde enough, but a huge feeder:

884Snaile-slow in profit, but he sleepes by day

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

888His borrowed purse. Well Iessica goe in,

889Perhaps I will returne immediately;

890Doe as I bid you, shut dores after you, fast binde, fast

891finde,

892A prouerbe neuer stale in thriftie minde. Exit.

893Ies. Farewell, and if my fortune be not crost,

894I haue a Father, you a daughter lost. Exit.