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, 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 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, 'twill 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 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: 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 be.

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 worship'd might he be ! what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my thill-horse 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.

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 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 speakest it well: Go, father, with thy son:

Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
My lodging out:-Give him a livery

[To his followers. More guarded 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 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 :-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 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!

You have obtain❜d it.

Gra. I have a suit to you. Bass. 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

show

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 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
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 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.

SCENE III.

The same. A Room in Shylock's House.

Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT.

Jess. 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