Launcelot
Why, Jessica!
Shylock
Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
Launcelot
Your worship was wont to tell me that I could do nothing without bidding.
Jessica
Call you? what is your will?
Shylock
I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:
There are my keys. But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I’ll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. I am right loath to go:
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.
Launcelot
I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect your reproach.
Shylock
So do I his.
Launcelot
An they have conspired together, I will not say you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black-Monday last at six o’clock i’ the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year, in the afternoon.