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Say I will come.

Laun. 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.

[Exit.]

Shy.

What says that fool of Hagar’s offspring, ha?

Jes.

His words were “Farewell, mistress!”—nothing else.

Shy.

The patch is kind enough, 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 borrowed 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 cross’d,

I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

Exit.

¶

Enter [two of] the masquers, Gratiano and Salerio.

Gra.

This is the penthouse 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,