SCENE II.
Venice. A Street.
Enter Launcelot Gobbo4 note.
Laun.
Certainly my conscience will serve me to
run from this Jew, my master: The fiend is at
mine elbow; and tempts me, saying to me, Gobbo,
Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo,
or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the
start, run away: My conscience says,—no; take
heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo;
or, as aforesaid, honest Launcelot Gobbo; do not
run; scorn running with thy heels5 note
: Well, the
most courageous fiend bids me pack; via! says the
-- 38 --
fiend; away! says the fiend, for the heavens6 note
;
rouse up a brave mind, says the fiend, and run.
Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of
my heart, says very wisely to me,—my honest
friend Launcelot, being an honest man's son,—or
rather an honest woman's son;—for, indeed, my
father did something smack, something grow to, he
had a kind of taste;—well, my conscience says,
Launcelot, budge not; budge, says the fiend; budge
not, says my conscience: Conscience, say I, you
counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well: to be
ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew
my master, who, (God bless the mark!) is a kind
of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should
-- 39 --
be ruled by the fiend, who, saving your reverence,
is the devil himself: Certainly, the Jew is the very
devil incarnation; and, in my conscience, my conscience
is but* note a kind of hard conscience, to offer
to counsel me to stay with the Jew: The fiend
gives the more friendly counsel: I will run, fiend;
my heels are at your commandment, I will run7 note.
Enter old Gobbo8 note, with a Basket.
Gob.
Master, young man, you, I pray you;
which is the way to master Jew's?
Laun. [Aside.]
O heavens, this is my true begotten
-- 40 --
father! who, being more than sand-blind9 note
,
high-gravel blind, knows me not:—I will try conclusions1 note
with him.
Gob.
Master young gentleman, I pray you, which
is the way to master Jew's?
Laun.
Turn up on your right hand2 note
, at the next
turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your
left; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no
hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house.
Gob.
By God's sonties3 note
, 'twill be a hard way to
-- 41 --
hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelot, that
dwells with him, dwell with him, or no?
Laun.
Talk you of young master Launcelot?—
Mark me now; [aside] now will I raise the waters:
—Talk you of young master Launcelot?
Gob.
No master, sir, but a poor man's son; his
father, though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor
man, and, God be thanked, well to live.
Laun.
Well, let his father be what he will, we
talk of young master Launcelot.
Gob.
Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir* note 4 note
.
Laun.
But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo, I
beseech you; Talk you of young master Launcelot?
Gob.
Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
Laun.
Ergo, master Launcelot; talk not of
master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman
(according to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings,
the sisters three, and such branches of learning,)
is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would say, in
plain terms, gone to heaven.
Gob.
Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very
staff of my age, my very prop.
Laun.
Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a
staff, or a prop?—Do you know me, father?
-- 42 --
Gob.
Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman:
but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, (God
rest his soul!) alive, or dead?
Laun.
Do you not know me, father?
Gob.
Alack, sir, I am sand-blind, I know you
not.
Laun.
Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you
might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father,
that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will
tell you news of your son: Give me your blessing:
truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid
long, a man's son may; but, in the end, truth will out.
Gob.
Pray you, sir, stand up; I am sure, you are
not Launcelot, my boy.
Laun.
Pray you, let's have no more fooling
about it, but give me your blessing; I am Launcelot,
your boy that was, your son that is, your child
that shall be5 note
.
Gob.
I cannot think, you are my son.
Laun.
I know not what I shall think of that:
but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man; and, I am sure,
Margery, your wife, is my mother.
Gob.
Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be
sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own
flesh and blood. Lord worshipp'd might he be!
-- 43 --
what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more
hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my phill-horse6 note
has
on his tail.
Laun.
It should seem then that Dobbin's tail
grows backward; I am sure he had more hair on
his tail, than I have on my face, when I last saw
him.
Gob.
Lord, how art thou changed! How dost
thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a
present; How 'gree you now?
Laun.
Well, well; but, for mine own part, as
I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest
till I have run some ground: my master's a very
Jew; Give him a present! give him a halter: I
am famish'd in his service; you may tell every finger
I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you
are come; give me your present to one master
Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries; if
I serve not him, I will run as far as God has any
ground.—O rare fortune! here comes the man;—
to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew
any longer.
-- 44 --
Enter Bassanio, with Leonardo, and other Followers.
Bass.
You may do so;—but let it be so hasted,
that supper be ready at the farthest by five of the
clock: See these letters deliver'd; put the liveries
to making; and desire Gratiano to come anon to
my lodging.
[Exit a Servant.
Laun.
To him, father.
Gob.
God bless your worship!
Bass.
Gramercy; Would'st thou aught with me?
Gob.
Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,—
Laun.
Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's
man; that would, sir, as my father shall specify,—
Gob.
He hath a great infection, sir, as one would
say, to serve—
Laun.
Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve
the Jew, and I have a desire, as my father shall specify,—
Gob.
His master and he, (saving your worship's
reverence,) are scarce cater-cousins:
Laun.
To be brief, the very truth is, that the
Jew having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my
father, being I hope an old man, shall frutify unto
you,—
Gob.
I have here a dish of doves, that I would
bestow upon your worship; and my suit is,—
Laun.
In very brief, the suit is impertinent to
myself, as your lordship shall know by this honest
old man; and, though I say it, though old man,
yet, poor man, my father.
Bass.
One speak for both;—What would you?
Laun.
Serve you, sir.
Gob.
This is the very defect of the matter, sir.
Bass.
I know thee well, thou hast obtain'd thy suit:
Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day,
-- 45 --
And hath preferr'd thee, if it be preferment,
To leave a rich Jew's service, to become
The follower of so poor a gentleman.
Laun.
The old proverb is very well parted between
my master Shylock and you, sir; you have
the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough.
Bass.
Thou speak'st it well: Go, father, with thy son:—
Take leave of thy old master, and enquire
My lodging out:—Give him a livery
[To his Followers.
More guarded7 note
than his fellows': See it done.
Laun.
Father, in:—I cannot get a service, no;
—I have ne'er a tongue in my head.—Well; [Looking on
his palm;] if any man in Italy have a fairer
table, which doth offer to swear upon a book8 note
.—I
-- 46 --
shall have good fortune9 note
; Go to, here's a simple
line of life! here's a small trifle of wives: Alas,
-- 47 --
fifteen wives is nothing; eleven widows, and nine
maids, is a simple coming-in for one man: and
then, to 'scape drowning thrice; and to be in peril
of my life with the edge of a feather-bed1 note;—here
are simple 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman,
she's a good wench for this gear.—Father, come;
I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an
eye* note.
[Exeunt Launcelot and old Gobbo.
Bass.
I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this;
These things being bought, and orderly bestow'd,
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
My best-esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.
Leon.
My best endeavours shall be done herein.
Enter Gratiano.
Gra.
Where is your master?
Leon.
Yonder, sir, he walks.
[Exit Leonardo.
Gra.
Signior Bassanio,—
Bass.
Gratiano!
Gra.
I have a suit to you.
Bass.
You have obtain'd it.
Gra.
You must not deny me; I must go with
you to Belmont.
Bass.
Why, then you must;—But hear thee, Gratiano;
Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice;—
-- 48 --
Parts, that become thee happily enough,
And in such eyes as ours appear not faults:
But where thou art not known, why, there they show
Something too liberal2 note
;—pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit3 note
; lest through thy wild behaviour,
I be misconstrued in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.
Gra.
Signior Bassanio, hear me:
If I do not put on a sober habit,
Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely;
Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes4 note
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say amen;
Use all the observance of civility,
Like one well studied in a sad ostent5 note
-- 49 --
To please his grandam, never trust me more.
Bass.
Well, we shall see your bearing6 note
.
Gra.
Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not gage me
By what we do to-night.
Bass.
No, that were pity;
I would entreat you rather to put on
Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose merriment: But fare you well,
I have some business.
Gra.
And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest;
But we will visit you at supper-time.
[Exeunt.
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
