run away. My confcience fays, no; take heed, honeft Launcelot; take heed, honeft Gobbo; or, as aforefaid, honeft Launcelot Gobbo, do not run; fcorn running with thy heels. Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack; via! fays the fiend; away! fays the fiend; for the heav'ns roufe up a brave mind, fays the fiend, and run. Well, my confcience, hanging about the neck of my heart, fays very wifely to me, my honeft friend Launcelot, being an honeft man's fon, or rather an honeft woman's fon-(for, indeed, my father did fomething fmack, fomething grow to: he had a kind of taste.)—well, my confcience fays, budge not; budge, fays the fiend; budge not, fays my confcience; confcience, fay I, you counsel ill; fiend, fay I, you counfel ill. To be rul'd by my confcience, I fhould stay with the Jew my mafter, who, God blefs the mark, is a kind of devil; and to run away from the Jew, I should be rul'd by the fiend, who, faving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnal; and in my confcience, my confcience is but a kind of hard confcience, to offer to counsel me to ftay 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. Mafter 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 sand-blind, high-gravel-blind, knows me not; I will try confufions 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 Jew's houfe. Gob. 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 mafter Launcelot? (mark me now, now will I raise the waters;) talk you of young mafter Launcelot? Gob. No mafter, Sir, but a poor man's fon. His father, though I fay't, is an honeft exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live. Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young mafter Launcelot. Gob. Your worship's friend and Launcelot, Sir. Laun. But, I pray you ergo, old man; ergo, I befeech you, talk you of young mafter Launcelot? Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. Laun. Ergo, mafter Launcelot; talk not of master Launcelot, father, for the young gentleman (according to fates and deftinies, and fuch odd fayings, the fifters three, and fuch branches of learning.) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would fay, in plain terms, gone to heav'n. Gob. Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very ftaff of my age, my very prop. Laun. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a ftaff 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 reft his foul, alive or dead? Laun. Do you not know me, father? Gob. Alack, Sir, I am fand-blind, I know you not. Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail of the knowing me: it is a wife father, that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your fon; give me your bleffing, truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's fon may; but in the end, truth will out. K 4 Gob. Gob. Pray you, Sir, ftand up; I am fure, you are not Launcelot my boy. Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but give me your bleffing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your fon that is, your child that shall be. Gob. I cannot think, you are my fon. Laun. I know not, what I fhall 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 fworn, 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 Dobmy Thill-horfe has on his tail. bin Laun. It fhould seem then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am fure, 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 doft thou and thy mafter agree? I have brought him a prefent; how agree you now? Laun. Well, well; but for mine own part, as I have fet up my reft to run away, fo I will not reft 'till I have run fome ground. My mafter's a very Jew give him a prefent! give him a halter: I am famifh'd in his fervice. You may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come; give me your prefent to one master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries; if I ferve 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 ferve the Jew any longer. Enter Baffanio with Leonardo, and a follower or two more. Baff. You may do fo; but let it be so hafted, that fupper be ready at the fartheft by five of the clock: fee ee these letters deliver'd, put the liveries to making, and defire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. Laun. To him, father. Gob. God bless your worship! Baff. Gramercy, would'ft thou ought with me? Gob. Here's my fon, Sir, a poor boy, Laun. Not a poor boy, Sir, but the rich Jew's man, that would, Sir, as my father fhall specify, Gob. He hath a great infection, Sir, as one would fay, to serve. Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I ferve the Jew, and have a defire, as my father shall fpecify, Gob. His mafter and he, faving 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, fhall frutify unto you, Gob. I have here a difh of doves, that I would beftow upon your worship; and my fuit is Laun. In very brief, the fuit is impertinent to myfelf, as your worship fhall know by this honeft old man; and, though I say it, though old man, yet poor man my father. Baff. One speak for both, what would you? Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, Sir. Laun. The old proverb is very well parted between my mafter Shylock and you, Sir; you have the grace. of God, Sir, and he hath enough. [son: Baff. Thou fpeak'ft it well; go, father, with thy Take leave of thy old master, and enquire My lodging out; give him a livery, : 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 a fairer table, * which doth ****** offer to fwear upon a book, I fhall have good fortune; go to, here's a fimple line of life; here's a fmall trifle of wives; alas, fifteen wives is nothing, eleven widows and nine maids is a fimple coming-in for one man! and then 'fcape drowning thrice, and to be t in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed, here are fimple '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 [Exeunt Laun, and Gob. Baff. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this. Thefe things being bought and orderly bestowed, Return in hafte, for I do feast to night My best-esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go. Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein. of an eye. which doth offer to fwear upon a book, &c.] This Nonsense seems to have taken its rife from the Accident of a loft Line in transcribing the Play for the Prefs; fo that the Paffage, for the future, fhould be printed thus, Well, if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth ****** offer to fwear upon a book I shall have good fortune. It is impoffible to find, again, the loft Line; but the loft Senfe is eafy enough if any man in Italy have a fairer table, which doth [pro mife good Luck, I am mistaken. I durft almoft] offer to fwear upon a Book, I fhall have good Fortune. + in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed,] A cant Phrase to fignify the Danger of marrying.-A certain French Writer ufes the fame Kind of Figure, O mon Ami, j'aimerois mieux etre tombe,, fur la pointe d'un Oreiller, & m' etre rompu le Cou. Gra. |