[121] Nor you, Lorenzo; Jessica, nor you. [A tucket sounds.
[122] Lor. Your husband is at hand; I hear his trumpet:
We are no tell-tales, madam; fear you not.
Por. This night methinks is but the daylight sick;
125 It looks a little paler: ’tis a day,
Such as the day is when the sun is hid.
Enter Bassanio, Antonio, Gratiano, and their followers.
Bass. We should hold day with the Antipodes,
If you would walk in absence of the sun.
Por. Let me give light, but let me not be light;