Beautiful tyrant, fiend angelical!
Just opposite to what thou seem’st—
I see my daughter’s head behind thy ear,
Ay, behind the wig that doth surmount thy head!
Mrs. Pet.—Me wear a wig? O wrinkled Jew, take back thy child, whom only kindness taught me to conceal. No more courage now remains: away with her! In saying that I wear a wig, you crush my heart, and now I fain would be alone.
Jessica (embraces Shylock).—Father, forgive me!
Romeo.—See! the Jew relents!
Helena.—O gentle Romeo!
Mrs. Othello.—I hope I shall get home before the Moor returns!
Shylock (takes Mrs. Petruchio’s hand.)