Jes.
I'm sorry thou wilt leave my father so;
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness;
But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee.
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest;
Give him this letter, do it secretly,
And so farewel: I would not have my father
See me talk with thee.

Laun.

Adieu! Tears exhibit my tongue; most beautiful pagan, most sweet Jew! if a christian did not play the knave and get thee, I am much deceiv'd. But adieu! these foolish drops do somewhat drown my manly spirit. Adieu!

Jes.
Farewel, good Launcelot.
Alack, what henious sin it is in me,
To be asham'd to be my father's child?
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners. O, Lorenzo,

If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
Become a christian, and thy loving wife.
SONG, by Jessica.
Haste, Lorenzo, haste away,
To my longing arms repair,
With impatience I shall die;
Come, and ease thy Jessy's care:
Let me then in wanton play,
Sigh and gaze my soul away. [Exit.

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