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 heels: Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack; via! says the fiend; away! says the fiend, for the heavens; 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 rul'd 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 be rul'd 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 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 run.

Enter old Gobbo, his father, 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 father! who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not:—I will try conclusions^{7 note}

Gob.

Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's?

Laun.

^{8 note}


Turn up on your right hand, 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 sonties^{9 note}

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.

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?

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:9Q0325 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 you blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be^{1 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 my own flesh and blood. Lord worshipp'd might he be! what a beard hast thou got!9Q0326 thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my thill-horse 9Q0327 has on his tail^{2 note}

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 thou art chang'd! How dost thou

and thy master agree? I have brought him a present; How agree 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.

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.

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 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 worship 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,
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 guarded^{3 note}

Laun.

Father, in:—I cannot get a service, no;— I have ne'er a tongue in my head.—^{4 note}

if any man in Italy 9Q0328 have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon a book, I shall have

good fortune.—Go to, here's a simple line of life! here's a small trifle of wives: alas, 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-bed^{5 note};—here are simple 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this geer.—Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.

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;—
Parts, that become thee happily enough,

And in such eyes as ours appear not faults;
But where thou art not known, why, there they shew
Something too liberal^{6 note};—pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild behaviour,
I be misconstru'd 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 eyes^{7 note}

Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say, amen;
Use all the observance of civility,
Like one well studied in a sad ostent^{8 note}

Bass.
Well, we shall see your bearing. 9Q0329

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.

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