Jess. (reading)
“Sweet Jessica, your window I'll be nigh to— (to Lau.)
We're just at home so you may take up Fido.

Lau. (aside)
It's a love letter! How these dandies throng he
I can't endure this state of things much longer!

Jess. (reads)
“This is the very night to run away,
Disguised in costume for the Bal Masque.”

Lau. (aside)
How can I tell her I'm her fond adorer,
How listen to my page's suit implore her?

Jess. (reads)
“My heart and sixpence at your feet I fling!” (to Lau.)
Well, Launcelot, why don't you knock and ring?

Lau. (going—then in desperation)
The canker secret shall longer dwell
In this torn bosom!

Jess.
Poor boy-ain't you well?

Lau.
Yes, now's the time my sorrow to impart,
And tell the story of a withered heart!
I feel it here. (laying his hand on his breast)

Jess.
Yes—I know what you mean,
This comes from eating gooseberries when green.

Lau.
'Tis not green gooseberries, but love in truth,
Whose ripened current never did run smooth!
But no, the advantage of position scorning,
Honour demands, Miss, I should give you warning;
In leaving you the danger I'd be leaving.

Jess. (laughing)
For whom, then, pray, is that soft bosom heaving?

Lau.
Sure, you must see, Miss, if not blind as Cupid,
You're her!

Jess.
Don't be absurd, you little stupid!

Lau.
Turn not away, but listen to my prayer a little,
Miss, if you'd condescend to hear me swear a little,
My faith and constancy you would not doubt!
(I feel much better now the murder's out.)
Should you refuse you open on my view
A desperate Future all along of you.
But smile and all again will sunshine be,
Sweet Israelite you is real light to me!
Forget Lorenzo and I'll undertake
Still to be called “Young Buttons” for your sake,
Content be with my homœopathic rations,
And live entirely on my expectations.
Take pity on a poor desponding cove;
Come—will you dwell with me and be my love?

Jess.
No, thank you, child; of what can you be thinking?
You naughty boy, I hope you've not been drinking!

Lau.
Mock not my misery—I know full well
I'm a poor serf and he's a heavy swell.
Reject me, and, for suicide I'm ripe,
I am a page of the old Roman type!
Nay—listen fascinating female Jew—

Jess.
There, go away you little idiot, do,
And, since you leave us, wheresoe'er you dwell
I shall be glad to hear you're doing well;
If out of place let us know I implore you,
My interest shall be exerted for you. (aside)
Now to prepare—Lorenzo, sweet, be true
And I to Shylock soon will bid a-Jew. (takes dog, and exit into house)

Lau. (solus)
She'll use her interest, t'must be confessed
My love's repaid with simple interest.

I'll seek an early death, and head first pitch in
The water-butt that stands in the back kitchen—
Or, to my grief a more efficient stopper
I may, perhaps, find in the wash-house copper,
In soap-suds there breathe out my vexed soul,
Drowning my sorrows in the flowing bowl:
And, since I am so soon a ghost to be
I'd best rehearse my own ghost's melody. (sings mournfully, accompanying it with appropriate action, in imitation of Ghost's movement in the “Corsican Brothers.”)

Air.—“The Ghost Melody.’ Corsican Brothers.
Though alive oh!—still I'll strive to
  Bring myself a ghost to be-e,
So I'll practise—what exact is
  Each move to be used by me-e! (slowly glides R. to L.)
This is how that Kean the younger,
  Or his double ghostly slides,
I have seen them—and I mean them
  (When I'm dead) to be my guides! (slides off and up against Gratiano who is entering with a letter from the house)

Grat.
Well, “Buttons,” what's all this lugubrious clatter?

Lau.
Buttons! you call me “Buttons.” (threatening)

Grat.
Well?

Lau. (relapsing)
No matter.
Have you such a thing about you—don't start—
I don't mean money, but a feeling heart?
'Cause I'll unbosom, if you're so inclined,
And share my grief with you—

Grat.
You're very kind.
Go on—t'were pity that a beardless youth
With scarce down on should be down in the mouth.

Lau.
My Christian friend, you offer consolatio
To one in love—out of a situation.
For oh! she spurns me!

Grat.
It seems in that case
That, like yourself, your love is out of place.

Lau.
I lived upon the sweet smiles she has given,
For Shylock gave me little else to live on.

Grat.
Cheer up—and serve Bassanio, my master,
A fast young man—

Lao.
I long have been a faster.

Grat.
Well, follow me—you soon will set that right
And give loose happy to your appe-tite;
He wants an under valet—why, you'll clear
Wages twelve pounds, and three new suits a year!
Besides, what perquisites the place entails,
Think as a valet on your peaceful vales!

Lau.
My mind's made up—I'll seek the world again,
And once more mingle with my fellow men!

Grat.
Well, since you're to the occupation fresh,
The outlines of a valet's life I'll sketch.

Song.—Gratiano.—“Life of a Valet.” Air “Think of Your Head in the Morning.”
I once was a buttons, but now have grown up
To powder, tail coat, and short breeches;
On the fat of the larder I dine and I sup
And the cellaret rob of it's riches;
My masters choice weeds I enjoy when he's out,
Or for him at the Opera waiting,
At the Pubiic enjoy my half pint of cool stout,
On affairs of the Nation debating.
In the Autumn my master goes Northward to shoot,
So his place in his absence supplying
His clothes I employ, down from neckcloth to boot,
Lest damp they should grow idle lying.
I bet my half a crown on each popular race,
When he stands his poney or monkey:
Indeed, I may say, I consider my place,
Quite worthy of me, as a flunky. Exeunt Gratiano and Launcelot, R. H Enter, from the house, Shylock followed by Jessica.

Shy.
There, Jessica, go in—make fast the doors!
These dinner parties are uncommon bores.
Yet I must go, and, Jessica, I say
You've nought to do, mind. with the Bal Masque,
Nor clamber to the casement in the view
Of fast and loose young men, remember too

None of those rioters as friends, the Jew boasts
Who blow the post-horn, or who haunt the Blue Posts!

Jess.
But if a gentleman should call?

Shy.
If so,
Which is'nt likely, your own sense will know
The gentleman, dear, by his gentle manners.
With him, too, sixpences ain't always “tanners”
Or “tizzies,” names which fast men are at home in,
Nor is the useful shilling of the slow men
A coin requiring “bob” as it's cognomen.
I trust to decency you'll have a proper eye,
Let not the sound of shallow foppery
Enter my sober house, but shut the shop, or I
Will know the reason; now you know my mind,
I'll lock you in; “safe bind,” they say, “safe find. (he locks her in the house)

Song.—Shylock. Air.—“Young Lord Lochinvar.”
'Neath lock, bolt, and bar you'll be safe in your nest,
Of all sorts of caution, precaution's the best.
With such an arrangement you'll suitors have none,
And you'll least be in mischief when biding alone.
  For so daring in love these young cocksparrows are,
  No girl can be safe without lock, bolt, and bar!
Would they woo my daughter their suit is denied,
No son-in-law suits me who's Christian beside;
As in giving me right they so niggardly are,
Of my daughter they'll find I'm more sparing by far.
  Since so daring in love these young cocksparrows are,
  My girl will be safest 'neath lock, bolt, and bar. Exit R. Enter Lorenzo, L. stealthily, with a ladder.

Lor.
This is the spot. Ho! Jessica, I say—
All is prepared for our departure. (Jessica appears at the window above)

Jess. (at the window)
Stay!
If I go with you I am much afraid
My conduct can't be looked upon as staid.

And flight with you don't seem to me quite right, eh?
What will folks say?

Lor.
They can but call it flighty

Jess.
Nay, but advise me seriously, please,
What steps I ought to take—

Lor.
You'd best take these. (adjusts the ladder against the window)

Jess.
But when papa discovers I've got out,
After his dinner won't there be a rout.

Song. Air.—“On Yonder Rock Reclining.” “Fra Diavolo.” Lor. (sings)
In yonder house is dining
That snarling, sneaking, snivelling Jew,
So while he's out o' the way, you
Run off with me, dear, do. Jess. (sings)
I can't think of declining
An offer so politely made,
But if papa we don't evade
He'll make me wish I'd stayed!

      I tremble,
    Lorenzo, take the bundle.

Lor.
  Be quick and let us trundle
  Now, while the coast is clear.
Quick, throw it down, and follow quick as thought,
I'll catch it.

Jess.
So shall I, if I am caught! (she throws down a bundle, which he catches, and descends the ladder)

Jess.
I scruple if e'en now I ought to go.

Lor.
This dram will soon remove those scruples though. (offers her a flask—she drinks)
Quick—for to our flight, Shylock, on reflection,
Might entertain some frivolous objection.
To suit our craft we'd better change our rig,
Or we shall have that old bird on the twig.

Duett and Dance: Air.—“Pop goes the Weasel.” Lor.
Long I've loved you, dearest maid,
  But your father, spurning

Open suit, my love has left
  As a night light burning;
A word from your sweet lips at once
  My trembling fears will ease all,
So, in a matrimonial line Both
  Pop goes the weasel! Jess.
Though behind my curtain, I
  Hidden have reclined, sir,
To your love be certain I
  Never could be blind, sir;
My father watched me as his wife
  Did old Sir Peter Teazle—
I'll fly with you as when alarmed Both
  Pop goes the weasel!

(together)
Ne'er a happier couple decked
  Modern painters' easels.
Than they who sing as lovers now
  Pop go the weasels! (dance off L. H.)

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