the Merchant of Venice.
873869with ouer-wetherd ribbs and ragged
sailes
874870leane, rent, and beggerd by the
strumpet wind?
876872Sal. Heere comes
Lorenzo, more of this hereafter.
877873Lor. Sweet freends, your patience for my long abode
878874not I but my a
ffaires haue made you waite:
879875when you
shall plea
se to play the theeues for wiues
880876Ile watch as long for you then: approch
881877here dwels my father Iew. Howe who
se within?
883879Iess. Who are you? tell me for more certainty,
884880Albeit Ile
sweare that I doe know your tongue.
885881Lor. Lorenzo and thy loue.
886882Iessica. Lorenzo certaine, and my loue indeed,
887883for who loue I
so much? and now who knowes
888884but you
Lorenzo whether I am yours?
889885Lor. Heauen & thy thoughts are witnes that thou art.
890886Ies. Heere catch this ca
sket, it is worth the paines,
891887I am glad tis night you doe not looke on me,
892888for I am much a
shamde of my exchange:
893889But loue is blinde, and louers cannot
see
894890The pretty follies that them
selues commit,
895891for if they could,
Cupid him
selfe would blu
sh 896892to
see me thus trans-formed to a boy.
897893Lor. De
scend, for you mu
st be my torch-bearer.
898894Ies. What, mu
st I hold a candle to my
shames,
899895they in them
selues good
sooth are too too light.
900896Why, tis an o
ffice of di
scouery loue,
901897and I
should be ob
scurd.
903899euen in the louely garni
sh of a boy, but come at once,
904900for the clo
se night doth play the runaway,
905901and we are
staid for at
Bassanios fea
st.
906902Ies. I will make fa
st the doores & guild my
selfe
907903with
some mo ducats, and be with you
straight.
908904Gra. Now by my hoode a gentle, and no Iew.
909905Lor. Be
shrow me but I loue her hartilie,
D2 for