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How like a younger or a prodigall,
Lor. Lorenzo and thy loue.
lef. Lorenzo certaine and my loue indeed, For who louc I so much ? and now who knowes But you Lorenzo, whether I am yours?
Lo Hcauen & thy thoghts are witnes that thou art
Lor.Descend, for you muft be my torch-bearer.
Tel.What,mult I hold a Candle to my shames,
Lor. So are you sweete,
Doth play the run-away,
Grar. Now by my hood, a Gentile and no lew.
Lor.Beshrew ine but I loue her hartily,
Ant.Fic,fic Gratiano, where are all the ret?
Enter Portia with Morrocbo, and bosh their traies,
Por. Goe; draw aside the Curtaines, and discouer
Mor. The first of gold, who this inscription beares,
gone to heauen.
Gob. Your worships friend, and Lancelet fir.
Lar. But I pray you ergo oldcinan, ergo I beseech you, calke you of yong N. Lancelet.
Gob, Of Lancelet an't please your mastership.
Lan. Ergo master Lancelet, talke not of inailter Lancelet Father; for the yong Gentleman according to faces and destinies, and such odd sayings, the tisters thrce, and such braunches of learning, is indeed deceased, or as you would lay in plain terms,
Gob. Marry God forbid, the boy was the veric staffe of my age, my very prop.
Lance. Dollooke like a cudgellor a houell poste, a staffe, or a prop: do you knowine Father.
Gob. Alacke the day, I know you not yong Gentleman, buc I pray you tell mee, is my boy (GOD reft his soule), aliue or dead.
Lance. Do you not know me Father?
Lan. Nay, in decde if you had your eyes you might faile of the knowing me: it is a wise Father that knowes his own child. Well, olde inan, I will tell you newes of your sonne, giuc ince your blessing; Truech will come to light, Murther cannot be hidde long, a mans sonne may, but at the length trueth will
Gobbo. Pray you sir stand vp, I am sure you are not Launcelet
Lance, Pray you let's haue no more fooling about it, but giue me your blessing; I am Lancelot your boy that was, your son that is, your child chat shall be.
Gob. I cannot thinke you are my sonne.
Lance. I know not what I shall thinke of that, but I am Lara celet the lewsman, and I am sure Margery, your wife is my mocher.
Gob. Her name is Margery indeede, ile bie sworne if thou bec Loncelet, thou art minc owncflesh and blood: Lord worship
might he be, what a beard haft thou got? thou hast got more haire on thy chin,then Dobbin my pilhorse has on his tale.
Lan, le should seeme then that Dobbins taile growes backward. I am sure he had more haire of his tayle then I haue of my face, when I last saw him.
Gob. Lord how art thou chang'd: how does shou and thy Mafter agrec? I haue brought him apresent; how agree you now:
Lance. Well, well, but for mine owne part as I haue set up my reft to runne away, so I will not reft till I have run fome ground; My master's a very lew, giue him a present,g uc bim a halter, I am famisht in his seruice. You may cell cuery finger I haue with my ribs : Father I am glad you are come, giue me your present to one Master Bassanio, who indeed giues rare new liueries, if I serue not him, I will runne as farre as God has any ground. o rare fortune, here comes the man, to him Father, for I am a lew if I serue the lew any longer:
Enter Bassanio with a follower or two. Baff. You may doe so, but let it be so hasted that supper be ready at the farthest by fiuc of the clocke: see these Letters deliuered, puc the Lyucries to making, and defire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging
Exit one of his men.
Lance.Not a poore boy fir, but the rich Iewes man that wold. fir,as my father shall specific. Gob.He hath a great infection fir, as one would say to serue.
Lance. Indeed the short and the long is, I serue the Jew, and haue a desire as my Father shall specific.
Gob.His Master and he(fauing your worships reuerence) are. scarle catercofinsa.
Lan. To be briefe, the very truth is that the low having don me wrong, doth cause me as my Father, being I hope, an olde man, shall frucific vnto you.
Gob.l haue hecre a dish of Doues that I would bestow vpon your worship: andıny suce is
Lan. In very briefe, the fute is impertinent to my felfe, as
Baf. One speake for both, what would you?
Bas. I know thee well, thou hast obrain'd thy fuce,
Lan. The old Prouerbe is very well parted between my ma-
Bas. Thou speakst ic well. Go Father with thy sonne,
Lan, Father in, I cannot get a seruice, no, I ha nere a tongue
a fairer cable which