master Jew's?
LAUNCELOT. [Aside] O heavens! This is my true-begotten father,
who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not.
I will try confusions with him.
GOBBO. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to
master Jew's?
LAUNCELOT. 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.
GOBBO. Be God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit! Can you tell
me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him or
no?
LAUNCELOT. Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [Aside] Mark me
now; now will I raise the waters.- Talk you of young Master
Launcelot?
GOBBO. No master, sir, but a poor man's son; his father, though I
say't, is an honest
exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well
to live.
LAUNCELOT. Well, let his father be what 'a will, we talk of young
Master Launcelot.
GOBBO. Your
worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.
LAUNCELOT. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I
beseech you, talk
you of young Master Launcelot?
GOBBO. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
LAUNCELOT. 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.
GOBBO. Marry, God forbid! The boy was the very staff of my age, my
very prop.
LAUNCELOT. Do I look like a
cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or a
prop? Do you know me, father?
GOBBO. 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?
LAUNCELOT. Do you not know me, father?
GOBBO. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not.
LAUNCELOT. 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.
GOBBO. Pray you, sir, stand up; I am sure you are not Launcelot my
boy.
LAUNCELOT. 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 be.
GOBBO. I cannot think you are my son.
LAUNCELOT. 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.
GOBBO. 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, what a beard hast thou got! Thou hast got more hair
on thy chin than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.
LAUNCELOT. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward;
I am sure he had more hair of his tail than I have of my face
when I last saw him.
GOBBO. Lord, how art thou chang'd! How dost thou and thy master
agree? I have brought him a present. How 'gree you now?
LAUNCELOT. 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.
Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO, with a FOLLOWER or two
BASSANIO. 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
delivered, put the liveries to making, and desire Gratiano to
come anon to my
lodging. Exit a SERVANT
LAUNCELOT. To him, father.
GOBBO. God bless your
worship!
BASSANIO. Gramercy; wouldst thou aught with me?
GOBBO. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy-
LAUNCELOT. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man, that would,
sir, as my father shall specify-
GOBBO. He hath a great
infection, sir, as one would say, to serve-
LAUNCELOT. Indeed the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and
have a desire, as my father shall specify-
GOBBO. His master and he, saving your
worship's
reverence, are
scarce cater-cousins-
LAUNCELOT. 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-
GOBBO. I have here a dish of doves that I would
bestow upon your
worship; and my suit is-
LAUNCELOT. 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.
BASSANIO. One speak for both. What would you?
LAUNCELOT. Serve you, sir.
GOBBO. That is the very
defect of the matter, sir.
BASSANIO. 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.
LAUNCELOT. 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.
BASSANIO. Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with thy son.
Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
My
lodging out. [To a SERVANT] Give him a livery
More guarded than his fellows'; see it done.
LAUNCELOT. Father, in. I cannot get a service, no! I have ne'er a
tongue in my head! [Looking on his palm] Well; if any man in
Italy 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;
a'leven 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-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.
Exeunt LAUNCELOT and OLD GOBBO
BASSANIO. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.
These things being bought and
orderlybestowed,
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
My best esteem'd
acquaintance; hie thee, go.
LEONARDO. My best endeavours shall be done herein.
Enter GRATIANO
GRATIANO. Where's your master?
LEONARDO. Yonder, sir, he walks. Exit
GRATIANO. Signior Bassanio!
BASSANIO. Gratiano!
GRATIANO. I have suit to you.
BASSANIO. You have obtain'd it.
GRATIANO. You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont.
BASSANIO. 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 show
Something too
liberal. Pray thee, take pain
To allay with some cold drops of modesty
Thy skipping spirit; lest through thy wild behaviour
I be misconst'red in the place I go to
And lose my hopes.
GRATIANO. 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
Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say amen,
Use all the
observance of civility
Like one well
studied in a sad ostent
To please his grandam, never trust me more.
BASSANIO. Well, we shall see your bearing.
GRATIANO. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not gauge me
By what we do to-night.
BASSANIO. 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.
GRATIANO. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest;
But we will visit you at supper-time. Exeunt
SCENE III.
Venice. SHYLOCK'S house
Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT
JESSICA. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so.
Our house is hell; and thou, a merry devil,
Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee;
And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest.
Give him this letter; do it secretly.
And so
farewell. I would not have my father
See me in talk with thee.
LAUNCELOT. Adieu! tears
exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful pagan,
most sweet Jew! If a Christian do not play the knave and get
thee, I am much deceived. But, adieu! these foolish drops do
something drown my manly spirit; adieu!
JESSICA. Farewell, good Launcelot. Exit LAUNCELOT
Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
To be asham'd to be my father's child!
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo,
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
Become a Christian and thy
loving wife. Exit
SCENE IV.
Venice. A street
Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALERIO, and SOLANIO
LORENZO. Nay, we will slink away in suppertime,
Disguise us at my
lodging, and return
All in an hour.
GRATIANO. We have not made good preparation.
SALERIO. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers.
SOLANIO. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly ordered;
And better in my mind not undertook.
LORENZO. 'Tis now but four o'clock; we have two hours
To furnish us.
Enter LAUNCELOT, With a letter
Friend Launcelot, what's the news?
LAUNCELOT. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem
to
signify.