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  • Title: The Merchant of Venice (Quarto 1, 1600)
  • Editor: Janelle Jenstad

  • Copyright Janelle Jenstad. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Janelle Jenstad
    Not Peer Reviewed

    The Merchant of Venice (Quarto 1, 1600)

    Enter Iewe and his man that was the Clowne.
    Iewe. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy iudge,
    The difference of old Shylocke and Bassanio;
    What Iessica, thou shalt not gurmandize
    the Merchant of Venice.
    800As thou hast done with mee: what Iessica,
    and sleepe, and snore, and rend apparraile out.
    Why Iessica I say.
    Clowne. Why Iessica.
    Shy. Who bids thee call? I doe not bid thee call.
    805Clow. Your worship was wont to tell me,
    I could doe nothing without bidding.
    Enter Iessica.
    Iessica. Call you? what is your will?
    Shy. I am bid forth to supper Iessica,
    810There are my keyes: but wherefore should I goe?
    I am not bid for loue, they flatter me,
    But yet Ile goe in hate, to feede vpon
    The prodigall Christian. Iessica my girle,
    looke to my house, I am right loth to goe,
    815There is some ill a bruing towards my rest,
    For I did dreame of money baggs to night.
    Clowne. I beseech you sir goe, my young Maister
    doth expect your reproch.
    Shy. So doe I his.
    820Clowne. And they haue conspired together, I will not say
    you shall see a Maske, but if you doe, then it was not for nothing
    that my nose fell a bleeding on black monday last, at sixe a clocke
    ith morning, falling out that yeere on ashwensday was foure yeere
    in thafternoone.
    825Shy. What are there maskes? heare you me Iessica,
    lock vp my doores, and when you heare the drumme
    and the vile squealing of the wry-neckt Fiffe
    clamber not you vp to the casements then
    Nor thrust your head into the publique streete
    830To gaze on Christian fooles with varnisht faces:
    But stop my houses eares, I meane my casements,
    let not the sound of shallow fopprie enter
    my sober house. By Iacobs staffe I sweare
    I haue no minde of feasting forth to night:
    835but I will goe: goe you before me sirra,
    say I will come.
    D. Clowne
    The comciall Historie of
    Clowne. I will goe before sir.
    Mistres looke out at window for all this,
    there will come a Christian by
    840will be worth a Iewes eye.
    Shyl. What sayes that foole of Hagars ofspring? ha.
    Iessica. His words were farewell mistris, nothing els.
    Shy. The patch is kinde enough, but a huge feeder,
    Snaile slow in profit, and he sleepes by day
    845more then the wild-cat: drones hiue not with me,
    therefore I part with him, and part with him
    to one that I would haue him helpe to wast
    his borrowed purse. Well Iessica goe in,
    perhaps I will returne immediatlie,
    850do as I bid you, shut dores after you, fast bind, fast find.
    a prouerbe neuer stale in thriftie minde. Exit.
    Ies. Farewell, and if my fortune be not crost,
    I haue a Father, you a daughter lost. Exit.