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I would out-stare the sternest eyes that look,
Por. You must take your chance,
Mor. Nor will not; therefore, bring me to my chance.
Por. First, forward to the temple ; after dinner Your hazard shall be made.
(5) So is Alcides beaten by bis Rage.] Tho' the whole Set of Editions concur in this Reading, and it pass’d wholly unsuspected by the late Learned Editor ; I am very well assur’d, and, I dare say, the Readers will be so too presently, that it is corrupt at Bottom. Let us look into the Poet's Drift, and the History of the Persons mention'd in the Context. If Hercules (says he) and Lichas were to play at Dice for the Decision of their Superiority, Licbas, the weaker Man, might have the better Caft of the Two. But how then is Alcides beaten by his rage? The Poet means no more, than, if Lichas had the better Throw, so might Hercules himself be beaten by Licbas. And who was He, but a poor unfortunate Servant of Hercules, that unknowingly brought his Mafter the envenom'd Shirt, dipt in the blood of the Centaur Neffus, and was thrown headlong into the Sea for his pains ? This one Circumstance of Licbas's Quality known fufficiently ascertains the Emendation, I havo substituted of page instead of rage. It is fcarce requisite to hint here, it is a Point fo well known, that Page has been always us’d in English to signify any, Boy-Servant : as well as what latter Times have appropriated it to, a Lady's Trainbearer,
Mor. Good fortune then,
(Cornets. To make me bleft, or cursed'fta
tamong men! [Exeunt. SCENE changes to Venice.
Enter Launcelot alone. Laun. CErtainly, my conscience will serve me to run
from this Žew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow, and tempts me, faying to me, Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good' Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbe, use your legs, take the start, run away. My conscience fays, no; take heed, honeft Launcelot ; take heed, honest Gobbo ; or, as aforesaid, honest Launcelot Gobbo, do not run ; scorn running with thy heels. Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack ; via! says the fiend ; away! says the fiend ; for the heav'ns rouse up a brave mind, says the fiend, and run. Well, my conscience, hanging about the neck of my 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 fays, budge not ; budge, says the fiend ; budge not, says my conscience; conscience, fay I, you counsel ill; fiend, fay I, you counsèl ill. To be rul'd 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, faving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnal ; 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.
Enter old Gobbo, with a basket. Gob. Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's?
Laun. O heav'ns, this is my true-begotten father, who being more than fand-blind, high gravel-blind, knows me not ; I will try confusions with him.
Gob. Mafter 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 Jeru's house.
Gob. By God's fonties, '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 fa. ther, 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 taika of young
master Launcelot. Gob. Your worship's friend and Launcelot, Sir: Laun. But, I pray you ergo,
man; ergo, I beseech you, talk you
malter Launcelot ? Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
Laun. Ergo, mater Launcelot; talk not of masterLauncelot, father, for the young gentleman (according to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings, the fifters 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 a bovel-post,, a ftaff or a prop ? do you know me, father?
Gob. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentle. man ; but, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, God rele kis 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 his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your fonį give me your blesing, truth will come to
light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's fon 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 my own flesh and blood : lord worship'd might he be! what a beard haft thou got! thou haft got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin
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 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 rest to run away, fo I will not rest 'till I have run fome ground. My master's a very Jew: give him a present! give him a halter : I am familh'd in his fervice. You
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 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.
Enter Bassanio with Leonardo, and a follower or
Bas. You may do fo; but let it be so halted, 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. : Laun. To him, father.
Gob. God bless your worship!
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 fay, to serve.
Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Few, and have a desire, as my father shall specifie,
Gob. His master and he, saying 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 honeft old man; and though I say it, though old man, yet poor inan my father.
Baf. One speak for both, what would you? Laun. Serve you, Sir. Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, Sir. Baf. 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 fo 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. Ball
. Thou speak’st it well; go, father, with thy fon : Take leave of thy old mafter, and enquire My lodging out ; give him a livery, 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 beadł well, if any man in Italy