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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 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 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.

blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not. I will try conclusions with him.

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

Laun. 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, 't will be a hard way to 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 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.

Enter Old Gobbo, 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

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Laun. Ergo, Master Launcelot: talk not of comes the man ;-to him, father: for I am a Master Launcelot, father; for the young gen- Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer. tleman (according to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters three, and such

Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO and other

Followers. branches of learning) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would say, in plain terms, gone to heaven. Bass. You may do so; but let it be so hasted

Gob. Marry, God forbid! the boy was the that supper be ready at the farthest by five of very staff of my age, my very prop.

the clock. See these letters delivered; put the Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel- liveries to making; and desire Gratiano to post, a staff, or a prop ?-- Do you know me, come anon to my lodging. [Exit a Servant. father?

Laun. To him, father. Gob. Alack the day, I know you not, young

Gob. God bless your worship! gentleman : but, I pray you tell me, is my boy Bass. Gramercy! Wouldst thou aught with me? (God rest his soul!) alive or dead ?

Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,Laun. Do you not know me, father?

Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you man; that would, sir, as my father shall specify not.

Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you would say, to serve, might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I that knows his own child. Well, old man, I serve the Jew, and I have a desire, as my will tell you news of your son.

Give me your

father shall specify,blessing : truth will come to light; murder can- Gob. His master and he (saving your worship's not be hid long; a man's son may; but in the reverence) are scarce cater-cousins :end, truth will out.

Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you Jew, having done me wrong, doth cause me, as are not Launcelot, my boy.

my father, being I hope an old man,

shall Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling frutify unto you,about it, but give me your blessing. I am Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, bestow upon your worship; and my suit is,your child that shall be.

Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent Gob. I cannot think you are my son.

to myself, as your worship shall know by this Laun. I know not what I shall think of that: honest old man; and though I say it, though but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man; and I am old man, yet poor man, my

father. sure Margery, your wife, is my mother.

Bass. One speak for both :-what would you? Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be Laun. Serve you, sir. sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, sir. flesh and blood. Lord worshipped might he be! Bass. I know thee well; thou hast obtained what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more

thy suit. hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my thill-horse Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, has on his tail.

And hath preferred thee, if it be preferment Laun. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail To leave a rich Jew's service to become grows backward: I am sure he had more hair The follower of so poor a gentleman. on his tail than I have on my face, when I last Laun. The old proverb is very well parted saw him.

between my master, Shylock, and you, sir: you Gob. Lord, how art thou changed! How dost have the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough. thou and thy master agree? I have brought him Bass. Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with a present. How 'gree you now?

thy son. Laun. Well, well: but for mine own part, as Take leave of thy old master, and inquire I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not My lodging out.-Give him a livery rest till I have run some ground. My master's

[To his Followers. a very Jew: give him a present! give him a More guarded than his fellows: see it done. halter. I am famished in his service; you may Laun. Father, in.— I cannot get a service, tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I no! I have ne'er a tongue in my head.—Well am glad you are come: give me your present (looking on his palm), if any man in Italy to one Master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare have a fairer table, which doth offer to swear new liveries; if I serve not him, I will run as far upon a book I shall have good fortune. Go to, as God has any ground.—O rare fortune! here here's a simple line of life! here's a small trifle

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Scene III.—The same. A Room in ShyLock's

House.

Enter Jessica and LAUNCELOT. Jes. 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 talk with thee.

Laun. 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 somewhat drown my manly spirit: adieu! [Exit.

Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot. Alack, what heinous sin is it in me, To be ashamed 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.

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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 : 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.

[Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo. Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this: These things being bought, and orderly bestowed, Return in haste, for I do feast to-night My best-esteemed 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 obtained 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. Pray thee, take pain To allay with some cold drops of modesty Thy skipping spirit; lest, through thy wild be

haviour, I be misconstrued in the place I 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
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.

Bass. Well, we shall see your bearing.
Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night; you shall not

gauge 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.

go to,

Enter Gratiano, Lorenzo, Salarino, and

SOLANIO. Lor. Nay, we will slink away at supper-time; Disguise us at my lodging, and return, All in an hour.

Gra. We have not made good preparation. Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch

bearers. Solan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly or

dered; And better, in my mind, not undertook. Lor. 'Tis now but four o'clock; we have two

hours To furnish us.

Enter Launcelot, with a letter.

Friend Launcelot, what 's the news? Laun. An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem to signify.

Lor. I know the hand : in faith, 't is a fair hand; And whiter than the paper

it writ on, Is the fair hand that writ.

Gra. Love-news, in faith.
Laun. By your leave, sir.
Lor. Whither goest thou ?

Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master the Jew to sup to-night with my new master the Christian.

Lor. Hold here, take this :—tell gentle Jessica I will not fail her! speak it privately; go.Gentlemen,

[Exit LAUNCELOT. Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? I am provided of a torch-bearer.

Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.
Solan. And so will I.

Lor. Meet me and Gratiano,
At Gratiano's lodging, some hour hence.
Salar. 'Tis good we do so.

[Exeunt SALARINO and SOLANIO. Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica? Lor, I must needs tell thee all. She hath di

rected How I shall take her from her father's house; What gold and jewels she is furnished with; What page's suit she hath in readiness. If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven, It will be for his gentle daughter's sake: And never dare Misfortune cross her foot, Unless she do it under this excuse, That she is issue to a faithless Jew. Come, go with me; peruse this as thou goest : Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt.

do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on Black-Monday last, at six o'clock i'the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year in the afternoon. Shy. What! are there masks? Hear you me,

Jessica: Lock up my doors : and when you hear the drum, And the vile squeaking of the wry-necked fife, Clamber not you up to the casements then, Nor thrust your head into the public street, To gaze on Christian fools with varnished faces: But stop my house's ears; I mean my casements: Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter My sober house.—By Jacob's staff I swear, I have no mind of feasting forth to-night: But I will go.—Go you before me, sirrah : Say I will come.

Laun. I will go before, sir.Mistress, look out at window, for all this ; There will come a Christian by, Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit LAUNCELOT. Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring,

ha? Jes. His words were, “Farewell, mistress;" no

thing else. Shy. The patch is kind enough ; but a huge

feeder, Snail-low in profit, and he sleeps by day More than the wild cat: drones hive not with me; Therefore I part with him; and part with him To one that I would have him help to waste His borrowed purse.—Well, Jessica, go in; Perhaps, I will return immediately; Do as I bid you, Shut doors after you: fast bind, fast find; A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.

[Exit. Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, I have a father, you a daughter, lost. [Exit.

SCENE V.-The same. Before Shylock's House.

Enter Suylock and LAUNCELOT. Shy. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy

judge,
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio :
What, Jessica !—thou shalt not gormandise,
As thou hast done with me ;-what, Jessica !
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out:-
Why, Jessica, I say!

Laun. Why, Jessica!
Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.

Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me I could do nothing without bidding.

Scene VI.-The same.

Enter Gratiano and SALARINO, masked. Gra. This the penthouse under which Lo

renzo

Enter JESSICA.
Jes. Call you? What is your will ?

Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:
There are my keys.—But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian.— Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house.—I am right loath to go;
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Laun. I beseech you, sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach.

Shy. So do I his.

Laun. And they have conspired together,-I will not say you shall see a mask; but if you

Desired us to make stand.

Salar. His hour is almost past.

Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, For lovers ever run before the clock.

Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly To seal love's bonds new made, than they are wont To keep obligéd faith unforfeited !

Gra. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast With that keen appetite that he sits down? Where is the horse that doth untread again His tedious measures with the unbated fire

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That he did pace them first? All things that are,

Enter Jessica, below. Are with more spirit chaséd than enjoyed. What, art thou come ?-On, gentlemen, away; How like a younker, or a prodigal,

Our masking mates by this time for us stay. The scarféd bark puts from her native bay,

[Exit with Jessica and Salarino. Hugged and embraced by the strumpet wind !

Enter ANTONIO.
How like the prodigal doth she return;
With over-weathered ribs, and ragged sails,

Ant. Who's there?
Lean, rent, and beggared by the strumpet wind ! Gra. Signior Antonio?

Ant. Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest? Enter LORENZO.

'Tis nine o'clock: our friends all stay for you.Salar. Here comes Lorenzo ;-more of this No masque to-night; the wind is come about, hereafter.

Bassanio presently will go aboard: Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long I have sent twenty out to seek for you. abode :

Gra. I am glad on 't; I desire no more delight, Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait:

Than to be under sail and gone to-night. [Exeunt. When you shall please to play the thieves for

wives, I'll watch as long for you then.-Approach ; Scene VII.-Belmont. A Room in Portia's Here dwells my father Jew.-Ho! who's within?

House. Enter Jessica above, in boy's clothes. Flourish of Cornets. Enter Portia, with the Jes. Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,

PRINCE OF Morocco, and both their Trains. Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue. Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

The several caskets to this noble prince.Jes. Lorenzo, certain ; and my love, indeed; Now make your choice. For who love I so much? And now who knows Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

bears: Lor. Heaven and thy thoughts are witness that “Who chooseth me shall gain what many men thou art.

desire." Jes. Here, catch this casket! it is worth the The second, silver, which this promise carries : pains.

“Who chooseth me shall get as much as he I am glad 't is night, you do not look on me,

deserves." For I am much ashamed of my exchange: This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt: But love is blind, and lovers cannot see

“Who chooseth me must give and hazard all The pretty follies that themselves commit;

he hath." For if they could, Cupid himself would blush How shall I know if I do choose the right? To see me thus transforméd to a boy.

Por. The one of them contains my picture, Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-bearer.

prince; Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my shames? If you choose that, then I am yours withal. They in themselves, good sooth, are too, too light. Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me Why, 't is an office of discovery, love;

see; And I should be obscured.

I will survey the inscriptions back again : Lor. So are you, sweet,

What says this leaden casket ? Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.

“Who chooseth me must give and hazard all But come at once;

he hath." For the close night doth play the runaway, Must give—for what? for lead ? hazard for lead ? And we are stayed for at Bassanio's feast. This casket threatens. Men that hazard all,

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself Do it in hope of fair advantages : With some more ducats, and be with you straight. A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross :

(Exit, from above. I'll then nor give nor hazard aught for lead. Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew. What says the silver, with her virgin hue?

Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily: “Who chooseth me shall get as much as he For she is wise, if I can judge of her ;

deserves." And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true; As much as he deserves ?-Pause there, Morocco, And true she is, as she hath proved herself; And weigh thy value with an even hand : And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, If thou beest rated by thy estimation, Shall she be placed in my constant soul. Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough

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