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Within these two months, that's a month before
And, for my love, I pray you, wrong me not.
Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
Shy. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's. Give him direction for this merry bond, And I will go and purse the ducats straight; See to my house, left in the fearful guard Of an unthrifty knave, and presently I will be with you.
Hie thee, gentle Jew. The Hebrew will turn Christian : he grows kind.
Bass. I like not fair terms, and a villain's mind.
Ant. Come on: in this there can be no dismay, My ships come home a month before the day.
SCENE 1.—Belmont. An Apartmeni in Portia's
House. Enter the Prince of Morocco, and his Followers ;
Portia, NERISSA, and other of her train. Flourish of cornets.
Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun, To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phæbus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, And let us make incision for your love, To prove whose blood is reddest, his, or mine. I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine Hath feard the valiant: by my love, I swear, The best regarded virgins of our clime Have lov'd it too. I would not change this hue, Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led
Even for that I thank you :
That won three fields of Sultan Solyman, –
You must take your chance ;
chance. Por. First, forward to the temple : after dinner Your hazard shall be made. Mor.
Good fortune then.
[Cornels. To make me blest, or cursed'st among men!
SCENE II.–Venice. A Street.
Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO. Laun. Certainly, my conscience will serve me to run from this Jew, my master.
The fiend is at
mine elbow, and tempts me, saying to me, “Gobbo, thing grow to, he had a kind of taste :-well, my Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, conscience says, “Launcelot, budge not.” “Budge, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the says the fiend: "budge not," says my conscience. start, run away:" My conscience says, “No; | Conscience, say I, you counsel well; fiend, say I, take heed, honest Launcelot ; take heed, honest you counsel well: to be ruled by my conscience, I Gobbo;" or, as aforesaid, “ honest Launcelot Gobbo; should stay with the Jew my master, who (God do not run; scorn running with thy heels." Well, bless the mark !) is a kind of devil; and, to run the most courageous fiend bids me pack; “ Via !" away from the Jew, I should be ruled by the fiend, says the fiend; "away!" says the fiend; "for the who, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. heavens, rouse up a brave mind,” says the fiend, || Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnation ; " and run." Well, my conscience, hanging about and, in my conscience, my conscience is but a kind the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me,- of hard conscience to offer to counsel me to stay “My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly man's son,' —or rather an honest woman's son ; counsel : I will run, fiend; my heels are at your for, indeed, my father did something smack, some 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 fåther, who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not :- I will try confusions with himn.
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 ?[Aside.]—Mark me now; now will I raise the wa
ters.—[ To him. ]— 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 a' will, we talk of young master Launcelot.
Gob. Your worship’s friend, and Launcelot, sir.
Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, 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. [Aside.) Do I look like a cudgel, or a
hovel-post, a staff, or a prop ?—[ To him.]-Do you Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the know me, father?
Jow having done me wrong, doth cause me,-as Gob. Alack the day! I know you not, young my father, being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify gentleman ; but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy (God rest his soul!) alive, or dead ?
Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would Laun. Do you not know me, father?
bestow upon your worship; and my suit is, Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind ; I know you Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to
myself, as your lordship shall know by this honest Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you old man; and, though I say it, though old man, might fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father yet, poor man, my father. that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell Bass. One speak for both.—What would you ? you news of your son.:-(Kneels.]-Give me your
Laun. Serve you, sir. blessing: truth will come to light ; murder cannot Gob. That is the very defect of the matter, sir. be hid long, a man's son may, but in the end truth Bass. I know thee well: thou hast obtain'd thy will out.
suit. Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, are not Launcelot, my boy.
And hath preferr'd thee; if it be preferment, Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about To leave a rich Jew's service, to become it, but give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your The follower of so poor a gentleman. boy that was, your son that is, your child that Laun. The old proverb is very well parted beshall be.
tween my master Shylock and you, sir : you have Gob. I can not think you are my son.
of God, sir, and he hath enough. Laun. I know not what I shall think of that; Bass. Thou speak’st it well.-Go, father, with but I am Launcelot, the Jew's man, and, I am sure,
thy son.Margery, your wife, is my mother.
Take leave of thy old master, and inquire Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be | My lodging out.—Give him a livery sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own
[To his Followers. flesh and blood. Lord!' worshipp'd might he be! More guarded than his fellows: see it done. what a beard hast thou got: thou hast got more Laun. Father, in.--I cannot get a service,-no; hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my phill-horse has on I have ne'er a tongue in my head.—Well ;-[Lookhis tail.
ing on his palm.]-if any man in Italy have a fairer Laun. It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail table, which doth offer to swear upon a book.—I grows backward: I am sure he had more hair of shall have good fortune.—Go to; here's a simple his tail, than I have of my face, when I last saw line of life! here's a small trifle of wives: alas! him.
fifteen wives is nothing: eleven widows, and nine Gob. Lord! how art thou changed! How dost maids, is a simple coming-in for one man; and thou and thy master agree? I have brought him then, to 'sca pe drowning thrice, and to be in peril a present. How agree you now?
of my life with the edge of a feather-bed :-here Laun. Well, well; but, for mine own part, as I are simple 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman, have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest she's a good wench for this gear.–Father, come ; till I have run some ground. My master's a very I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of an Jew: give him a present! give him a halter : I am eye. [Exeunt LAUNCELOT, and, Old Gobbo. famish d in his service; you may tell every finger Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this. I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are These things being bought, and orderly bestow'd, come : give me your present to one master Bas Return in haste, for I do feast to-night sanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries. If I My best-esteemed acquaintance : bie thee; go. serve not him, I will run as far as God has any Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein. ground.--0) rare fortune! here comes the man :
Gra. Where is your master ?
Yonder, sir, he walks. Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO, and Followers.
[Erit LEONARDO. Bass. You may do so ;—but let it be so hasted, Gra. Signior Bassanio! that
supper be ready at the furthest by five of the Bass. Gratiano. clock. See these letters delivered: put the liveries Gra. I have a suit to you. to making, and desire Gratiano to come anon to my Bass.
You have obtain'd it. lodging.
[Exit a Servant. Gra. You must not deny me. I must go with Laun. To him, father.
you to Belmont. Gob. God bless your worship!
Bass. Why, then you must; but, hear thee, Bass. Gramercy. Would'st thou aught with
Gratiano. me ?
Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice ;Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,
Parts, that become thee happily enough, Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's And in such eyes as ours appear not faults ; man, that would, sir,-as my father shall specify. But where thou art not known, why, there they show
Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would | Something too liberal.-Pray thee, take pain say, to serve,
To allay with some cold drops of modesty Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behaviour, the Jew, and have a desire,-as my father shall I be misconstrued in the place I go to, specify.
And lose my hopes. Gob. His master and he (saving your worship’s Gra.
Signior Bassanio, hear me: reverence) are scarce cater-cousins.
If I do not put on a sober habit,
Talk with respect, and swear but now and then, Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master, the Jew,
[Erii LAUNCELOT. Like one well studied in a sad ostent
Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? To please his grandam, never trust me more. I am provided of a torch-bearer. Bass. Well, we shall see your bearing.
Salar. Ay, marry, I'll begone about it straight. Gru. Nay, but I bar to-night : you shall not gage
Salan. And so will I.
Meet me, and Gratiano, By what we do to-night.
At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence. Bass.
No, that were pity; Salar. 'Tis good we do so. I would entreat you rather to put on
(Ereunt Salar. and SALAN. Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica ? That purpose merriment. But fare you well, Lor. I must needs tell thee all. She hath diI have some business.
rected, Gra. And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest; How I shall take her from her father's house; But we will visit you at supper-time. (E.reunt. What gold, and jewels, she is furnish'd 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. Didst rob it of soine taste of tediousness.
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt. But faro thee well; there is a ducat for thee. And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
SCENE V.— The Same. Before Shylock's House. Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest ;
Enter SHYLOCK, and LAUNCELOT.
Shy. Well, thou shalt see; thy eyes shall be thy See me in talk with thee.
judge, Laun. Adieu !-tears exhibit my tongue.- Most
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.
What, Jessica !—Thou shalt not gormandize, beautiful pagan,-most sweet Jew! If a Christian
As thou hast done with me ;- What, Jessica !do not play the knave, and get thee, I am much deceived: but, adieu! these foolish drops do some
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out.what drown my manly spirit: adieu ! [Erit.
Why, Jessica, I say !
Laun. Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot.
Why, Jessica ! Alack, what heinous sin is it in me,
Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.
Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, that To be asham'd to be my father's child ! But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I could do nothing without bidding.
Jes. Call you? What is your will ?
Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica :
There are my keys.—But wherefore should I go! SCENE IV.-The Same. A Street.
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. Lor. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time, There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest, Disguise us at my lodging, and return
For I did dream of money-bags to-night. All in an honr.
Laun. I beseech you, sir, go : my young master Gra. We have not made good preparation. doth expect your reproach. Salar. We have not spokeus yet of torch-bearers. Shy. So do I his.
Salan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be qunintly order'd, Laun. And they have conspired together :-) And better, in my mind, not undertook.
will not say, you shall see a masque; but if you do, Lor. 'Tis now but four o'clock: we have two then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a liours
bleeding on black Monday last, at six o'clock i' the To furnish us.
morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday
was four year in the afternoon. Enter LAUNCELOT, wilh a letter.
Shy. What! are there masques ?-Hear you Friend Launcelot, what's the news ?
me, Jessica : Luun. An it shall please you to break up this, it Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum. shall seem to signify.
[Giving a leller. And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife, Lor. I know the hand : in faith, 'tis a fair hand; Clamber not you up to the casements then, And whiter than the paper it writ on,
Nor thrust your head into the public street Is the fair hand that writ.
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces, Gra.
Love-news, in faith. But stop my house's ears, I mean, my casements: Laun. By your leave, sir.
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter Lor. Whither goest thou ?
My sober house.—By Jacob's staff, I swear,
Therefore I part with him, and part with him To seal love's bonds new-made, than they are wont
Gra. That ever holds: who riseth from a feast Perhaps I will return immediately.
With that keen appetite that he sits down? Do, as I bid you; shut doors after you :
Where is the horse that doth untread again Fast bind, fast find,
His tedious measures, with the unbated fire
Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg’d and embraced by the strumpet wind ! SCENE VI.-The Same.
How like a prodigal doth she return;
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails, Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lo
Enter LORENZO. Desir'd us to make stand.
Salar. Here comes Lorenzo :—more of this Salar. His hour is almost past.
hereafter. Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour, Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long For lovers ever run before the clock.
abode; Salar. O! ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly Not I, but my affairs have made vou wait: