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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, 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't, 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 heav'n.
Gob. Marry, God forbid ! the boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop.
Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or á 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 ?
Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father, that knows
ubi eas præterieris, Ad finiftram hac rectâ plateâ : ubi ad Dianæ veneris,
Ito ad dextram priùs, quàm ad portam venias: &c. The Reader, upon a Collation of the whole Passage, will find, how infinitely more concise and humourous the Jeft is couch'd in our Poet.
gery your wife is
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.
Laur. 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, Mar
mother. Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed. I'll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art my own flesh and blood : lord worship'd might he be! what a beard haft thou got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my Thill-horse has on his tail (10).
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 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 reft 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 Basanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries; if I serve him not, 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.
(10) than Dobbin my Thill-horse] Some of the Editions have it Phill, others Fill-horse; Both, erroneously. It muit be thill-horse; i. e. the Horse, which draws in the Shafts, or Thill, of the Carriage.
Enter Bassanio with Leonardo, and a follower or
Bas. 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 defire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.
Laun. To him, father.
Laun. Not a poor boy, Sir, but the rich Jew's man, that would, Sir, as my father shall specifie.
Gob. He hath a great infection, Sir, as one would say, to serve.
Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Few, and have a desire as my father shall specifie.
Gób. His master and he, saving your worship’s reverence, are scarce catercousins.
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 frutifie 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 my self, as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and though I say it, though old man, yet poor man my father.
Baf. One speak for both, what would you? Laun. Serve you, Sir. Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, Sir. Bal. 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. Bal. Thou speak’st it well; go, father, with thy fon:
Take leave of thy old master, and enquire
Laun. Father, in; I cannot get a service, no? I have ne'er a tongue in my head? well, if any man in Italy have (11) a fairer table, which doth offer to swear
upon a book, I shall have good fortune ; go to, here's a fimple 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 geer. Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an eye.
[Ex. Laun. and Gob. Bal. 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 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 ; [Ex. Leonardo Gra. Signior Bafanio, Bal. Gratiano ! Gra. I have a suit to you. Bas. You have obtain'd it.
Grã. You must not deny me, I must go you to Belmont.
(11) Well, if any Man in Italy have &c] This stubborn Piece of Nonsenie seems to have taken its Rise from this Accident. In transcribing the Play for the Press, there was certainly a Line loft; so that the Passage for the future should be printed thus ; Well, if any Max in Italy have a fairer Table, which doth
offer to fwear upon a Book, I fall have good Fortune. 'Tis impossible to find out the loft Line, but the loft Sense is easy enough ; as thus.
Well, if any Man in Italy have a fairer Table, which doth [promise good Luck, I am mistaken. I durst almost] offer to swear upon a Book, I Jhall have good Fortune.
Bal. 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 T'allay with some cold drops of modesty Thy skipping spirit; left, through thy wild behaviour, I be misconstru'd in the place I go to, And lose my hopes.
Gra. Signior Bafanio, hear me.
Bal. Well, we shall see your bearing:
Gra. Nay, but I bar to night, you shall not gage me By what we do to night.
Bal. No, that were pity.
Gra. And I must to Lorenzo and the rest :
SCENE changes to Shylock's house.
Enter Jessica and Launcelot.
Our house is hell, and thou, a merry devil,