_Shy_. What! are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica: Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife,[66] Clamber not you up to the casements then, Nor thrust your head into the public street, To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces: But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements; Let not the sound 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 before me, sirrah; Say, I will come. _Lau_. I will go before, Sir.-- Mistress, look out at window, for all this; There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess' eye.[67] [_Exit_ LAUNCELOT. _Shy_. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha? _Jes_. His words were, Farewell, mistress; nothing else. _Shy_. The patch is kind enough;[68] but a huge feeder, Snail-slow in profit, and 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, Jessica, go in; Perhaps, I will return immediately; Do as I bid you, Shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find; A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [_Exit_. _Jes_. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [_Exit into house_. _Enter_ GRATIANO _and_ SALARINO, _masqued_. _Gra_. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Desir'd us to make 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 To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont To keep obliged faith unforfeited! _Gra_. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast, With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again His tedious measures with the unbated fire That he did pace them first? All things that are, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd. _Enter_ LORENZO. _Sal_. Here comes Lorenzo. _Lor_. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode: Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait: When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, I'll watch as long for you then.-- Here dwells my father Jew:-- GLEE.[69] O happy fair! Your eyes are lode-stars, and your tongue sweet air! More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear When wheat is green, when hawthorn buds appear![70] Ho! who's within? _Enter_ JESSICA, _above_. _Jes_. Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty, Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue. _Lor_. Lorenzo, and thy love. _Jes_. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed; For who love I so much? And now who knows But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours? _Lor_. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness that thou art. _Jes_. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the pains. _Lor_. Come, come at once; For the close night doth play the run-away, And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast.