Why, ’tis an office of discovery, love;
And I should be obscured.
Lor.
[044] So are you, sweet,
[045] Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
But come at once;
For the close night doth play the runaway,
And we are stay’d for at Bassanio’s feast.
Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself
[050] With some more ducats, and be with you straight. [Exit above.