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Laun. Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man, of young master Launcelot.
that would, sir,-as my father shall specify. Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir. Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one would
Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech say, to serve you, talk you of young master Launcelot?
Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. Jew, and have a desire,-as my father shall specify. Laun. Ergo, master Launcelot. Talk not of master Gob. His master and he (saving your worship’s reveLauncelot, father; for the young gentleman (according rence), are scarce cater-cousins. to fates and destinies, and such odd sayings, the sisters Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew three, and such branches of learning), is, indeed, de having done me wrong, doth cause me, -as my father, ceased; or, as you would say, in plain terms, gone to being, I hope, an old man, shall fructify unto you. heaven.
Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would bestow Gob. Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff upon your worship; and my suit is, of my age, my very prop.
Laun, In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myLaun. [ Aside.) Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel- self, as your lordship shall know by this honest old post, a staff, or a prop ?—[To him.] Do you know me, man; and, though I say it, though old man, yet, poor father?
man, my father. Gob. Alack the day! I know you not, young gentle- Bass. One speak for both.—What would you?
But, I pray you, tell me, is my boy, (God rest Laun. Serve you, sir. his soul !) alive, or dead?
Gob. That is the very defect of the matter, sir. Laun. Do you not know me, father?
Bass. I know thee well: thou hast obtain'd thy suit. Gob. Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not. Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, Laun. Nay, indeed, if you had your eyes, you might And hath preferr'd thee; if it be preferment, fail of the knowing me: it is a wise father that knows To leave a rich Jėw's service, to become his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of The follower of so poor a gentleman. your son. [Kneels.] Give me your blessing: truth will Laun. The old proverb is very well parted between come to light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's son my master Shylock and you, sir: you have the grace may, but in the end truth will out.
of God, sir, and he hath enough. Gob. Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you are Bass. Thou speak’st it well.—Go, father, with thy not Launcelot, my boy.
Laun. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, Take leave of thy old master, and inquire but give me your blessing: I am Launcelot, your boy My lodging out.—Give him a livery | To his followers. that was, your son that is, your child that shall be. More guarded than his fellows': see it done. Gob. I cannot think you are my son.
Laun. Father, in.— I cannot get a service,-no; I Laun. I know not what I shall think of that; but I have ne'er a tongue in my head.-Well; [Looking on am Launcelot, the Jew's man, and, I am sure, Margery, his palm;] if any man in Italy have a fairer table, your wife, is my mother.
which doth offer to swear upon a book. - I shall have Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, good fortune.—Go to; here's a simple line of life! if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and here's a small trifle of wives: alas ! fifteen wives is blood. Lord! worshipp'd might he be! what a beard nothing: eleven widows, and nine maids, is a simple hast thou got: thou hast got more hair on thy chin, coming in for one man; and then, to 'scape drowning than Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail.
thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a Laun. [Rising.] It should seem, then, that Dobbin's feather-bed : here are simple 'scapes ! Well, if fortail grows backward: I am sure he had more hair of tune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.his tail, than I have of my face, when I last saw Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the him.
twinkling of an eye. [Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo. Gob. Lord! how art thou changed! How dost thou Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this. and thy master agree? I have brought him a present. These things being bought, and orderly bestow'd, How agree you now?
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night Laun. Well, well; but, for mine own part, as I have My best-esteem'd acquaintance: hie thee, go. set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein. run some ground. My master's a very Jew: give him
Enter GRATIANO. a present! give him a halter: I am famish'd in his ser- Gra. Where is your master? vice : you may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Leon. Yonder, sir, he walks. [Exit LEONARDO. Father, I am glad you are come: give me your present Gra. Signior Bassanio! to one master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new Bass. Gratiano. liveries. If I serve not him, I will run as far as God Gra. I have a suit to you. has any ground.— rare fortune! here comes the man: Bass.
You have obtain'd it. -to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew Gra. You must not deny me. I must go with you any longer.
to Belmont. Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO, and Followers. Bass. Why, then you must; but hear thee, Gratiano.
Bass. You may do so;- but let it be so hasted, that | Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice;supper be ready at the farthest by five of the clock. Parts, that become thee happily enough, See these letters delivered: put the liveries to making, And in such eyes as ours appear not faults; and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. But where thou art not known, why, there they show
[Exit a Servant. Something too liberal.—Pray thee, take pain Laun. To him, father.
To allay with some cold drops of modesty Gob. God bless your worship!
Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behaviour, Bass. Gramercy. Would'st thou aught with me! I be misconstrued in the place I go to, Gob. Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,
And lose my hopes.
[Exit LAUNCELOT. If I do not put on a sober habit,
Will you prepare you for this masque to-night? Talk with respect, and swear but now and then, I am provided of a torch-bearer, Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely; Salar. Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight. Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes Salan. And so will I. Thus with my hat, and sigh, and say amen;
Meet me, and Gratiano, Use all the observance of civility,
At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence. Like one well studied in a sad ostent
Salar. 'Tis good we do so. To please his grandam, never trust me more.
[Exeunt Salar, and Salan. Bass. Well, we shall see your bearing.
Gra. Was not that letter from fair Jessica? Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gage me Lor. I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed, By what we do to-night.
How I shall take her from her father's house; Bass.
No, that were pity. What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with;
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake;
And never dare misfortune cross her foot, Gra. And I must to Lorenzo, and the rest;
Unless she do it under this excuse,
Come, go with me: peruse this, as thou goest:
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.—The Same. Before SuyLock's House.
Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCelot.
Shy. Well, thou shalt see, thy eyes shall be thy judge, Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio.But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee.
What, Jessica !—Thou shalt not gormandize, And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see As thou hast done with me!-What, Jessica !Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest;
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out.Give him this letter: do it secretly,
Why, Jessica, I say !
Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call. Laun. Adieu !—tears exhibit my tongue.- Most Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, that I beautiful pagan,—most sweet Jew! If a Christian did could do nothing without bidding. not play the knave, and get thee, I am much deceived:
Enter JESSICA. but, adieu! these foolish drops do somewhat drown my Jes. Call you? What is your will ? manly spirit: adieu !
[Exit. Shy. I am bid forth to supper, Jessica : Jes. Farewell, good Launcelot.
There are my keys.—But wherefore should I go? Alack, what heinous sin is it in me,
I am not bid for love; they flatter me: To be asham'd to be my father's child !
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon But though I am a daughter to his blood,
The prodigal Christian.—Jessica, my girl, I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo!
Look to my house :- I am right loath to go. If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
There is some ill a brewing towards my rest, Become a Christian, and thy loving wife. [Exit. For I did dream of money-bags to-night. SCENE IV.-The Same. A Street.
Laun. I beseech you, sir, go: my young master
doth expect your reproach. Enter Gratiano, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.
Shy. So do I his. Lor. Nay, we will slink away in supper-time, Laun. And they have conspired together :- I will Disguise us at my lodging, and return
not say, you shall see a masque; but if you do, then All in an hour.
it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on Gra. We have not made good preparation. black Monday last, at six o'clock i'the morning, falling Salar. We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers. out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year in the
Salan. 'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd, afternoon. And better, in my mind, not undertook.
Shy. What! are there masques ?—Hear you me, Lor. 'Tis now but four o'clock: we have two hours
Jessica : To furnish us.
Lock up my doors; and when you hear the drum, Enter LAUNCELOT, with a letter.
And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife, Friend Launcelot, what's the news? Clamber not you up to the casements then, Laun. An it shall please you to break up this, it Nor thrust your head into the public street shall seem to signify.
[Giving a letter. To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces, Lor. I know the hand : in faith, 'tis a fair hand; But stop my house's ears, I mean my casements : And whiter than the
Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house. - By Jacob's staff, I swear, Gra.
Love-news, in faith. I have no mind of feasting forth to-night; Laun. By your leave, sir.
But I will go.—Go you before me, sirrah : Lor. Whither goest thou?
Say, I will come. Laun. Marry, sir, to bid my old master, the Jew, to Laun. I will go before, sir.—Mistress, look out at sup to-night with my new master, the Christian.
window, for all this; Lor. Hold here, take this.—Tell gentle Jessica, There will come a Christian by, I will not fail her:-speak it privately;
Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit Laun.
Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's offspring ? ha! Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild myself Jes. His words were, farewell, mistress; nothing else. With some more ducats, and be with you straight. Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge feeder,
[Exit, from above. Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no Jew. More than the wild cat: drones hive not with me; Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily; Therefore I part with him, and part with him
For she is wise, if I can judge of her, To one that I would have him help to waste
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true, His borrow'd purse.- Well, Jessica, go in :
And true she is, as she hath prov'd herself; Perhaps I will return immediately.
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true, Do, as I bid you; shut doors after you:
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.
Enter Jessica, to them below.
Jes. Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost, Our masquing mates by this time for us stay.
[Exit with Jessica and SalariNO. SCENE VI.— The Same.
Ant. Who's there? Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.
Gra. Signior Antonio? Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Lorenzo Ant. Fie, fie, Gratiano! where are all the rest? Desir'd us to make stand.
'Tis nine o'clock; our friends all stay for you. Salar.
His hour is almost past. No masque to-night: the wind is come about,
I have sent twenty out to seek for you.
SCENE VII.-Belmont. An Apartment in Gra. That ever holds : who riseth from a feast,
Enter Portia, with the Prince of Morocco, and both
their trains. His tedious measures, with the unbated fire That he did pace them first? All things that are, Por. Go, draw aside the curtains, and discover Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
The several caskets to this noble prince.How like a younker, or a prodigal,
[Curtains drawn aside. The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Now make your choice. Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind !
Mor. The first, of gold, who this inscription bears ;How like a prodigal doth she return,
“Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire." With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails,
The second, silver, which this promise carries ;Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind! “Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves." Enter Lorenzo.
This third, dull lead, with warning all as blunt;Salar. Here comes Lorenzo:--more of this hereafter. “Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath." Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode; How shall I know if I do choose the right? Not I, but my affairs have made you wait:
Por. The one of them contains my picture, prince: When you shall please to play the thieves for wives, If
you choose that, then I am yours withal. I'll watch as long for you then.--Approach ;
Mor. Some god direct my judgment! Let me see, Here dwells my father Jew.-Ho! who's within ? I will survey th' inscriptions back again : Enter Jessica above, as a boy.
What says this leaden casket? Jes. Who are you? Tell me for more certainty, “Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath.” Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue.
Must give-For what? for lead? hazard for lead ? Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.
This casket threatens : men, that hazard all,
I'll then nor give, nor hazard, aught for lead. Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts are witness that What says the silver, with her virgin hue? thou art.
“Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves.” Jes. Here, catch this casket: it is worth the pains. As much as he deserves ?—Pause there, Morocco, I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
And weigh thy value with an even hand. For I am much asham'd of my exchange;
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation, But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
Thou dost 'deserve enough; and yet enough The pretty follies that themselves commit;
May not extend so far as to the lady;
Were but a weak disabling of myself.
Jes. What! must I hold a candle to my shames? I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
But more than these in love I do deserve her.
What if I stray'd no farther, but chose here?Lor.
So are you, sweet, Let's see once more this saying grav’d in gold : Even in the garnish of a lovely boy.
“Who chooseth me shall gain what many men desire." Bat come at once;
Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her: For the close night doth play the run-away,
From the four corners of the earth they come, And we are stay'd for at Bassanio's feast.
To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint.
The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds
Marry, well remember'd. Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now,
I reason'd with a Frenchman yesterday, For princes to come view fair Portia :
Who told me, in the narrow seas, that part The watry kingdom, whose ambitious head
The French and English, there miscarried Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
A vessel of our country, richly fraught. To stop the foreign spirits, but they come,
I thought upon Antonio when he told me, As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia.
And wish'd in silence that it were not his. One of these three contains her heavenly picture. Salan. You were best to tell Antonio what you hear; Is't like, that lead contains her? 'Twere damnation, Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him. To think so base a thought: it were too gross
Salar. A kinder gentleman treads not the earth. To rib her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
I saw Bassanio and Antonio part. Or shall I think in silver she's immur'd,
Bassanio told him, he would make some speed Being ten times undervalued to tried gold?
Of his return : he answer'd—“Do not so;
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love. But here an angel in a golden bed
Be merry; and apply your chiefest thoughts Lies all within.-Deliver me the key :
To courtship, and such fair ostents of love Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may !
As shall conveniently become you
there." Por. There, take it, prince; and if my form lie there, And even there, his eye being big with tears, Then I am yours.
[He opens the golden casket. Turning his face, he put his hand behind him, Mor.
O hell! what have we here? And with affection wondrous sensible A carrion death, within whose empty eye
He wrung Bassanio's hand; and so they parted. There is a written scroll. I'll read the writing.
Salan. I think, he only loves the world for him. “ All that glisters is not gold;
I pray thee, let us go, and find him out,
And quicken his embraced heaviness
With some delight or other.
Do we so.
[Exeunt. Gilded tombs do worms infold.
SCENE IX.-Belmont. An Apartment in Portia's
Enter NERISSA, with a Servitor.
Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee; draw the curtains
straight. Then, farewell, heat; and, welcome, frost.- The prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath, Portia, adieu. I have too griev'd a heart
And comes to his election presently. To take a tedious leave : thus losers part. [Exit. Enter the Prince of ARRAGON, Portia, and their Por. A gentle riddance.-Draw the curtains: go. trains. Flourish cornets. Curtains withdrawn.
[Curtains drawn. Por. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble prince. Let all of his complexion choose me so. [Exeunt. If you choose that wherein I am contain’d, SCENE VIII.-Venice. A Street.
Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd;
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
You must be gone from hence immediately.
First, never to unfold to any one
Which casket 'twas I chose : next, if I fail
Salar. He came too late, the ship was under sail : If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave you and be gone. That in a gondola were seen together
Por. To these injunctions every one doth swear, i Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica.
That comes to hazard for my worthless self. Besides, Antonio certified the duke,
Ar. And so have I address'd me. Fortune now They were not with Bassanio in his ship.
To my heart's hope !--Gold, silver, and base lead. Salan. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
“Who chooseth me must give and hazard all he hath: So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
You shall look fairer, ere I give, or hazard. As the dog Jew did utter in the streets :
What says the golden chest? ha! let me see :“My daughter!-O my ducats !-O my daughter ! " Who choosethome shall gain what many men desire." 1 Fled with a Christian ?-0 my Christian ducats ! What many men desire :- that many may be meant Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter! By the fool multitude, that choose by show, A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach ; Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter! Which prize not th' interior, but, like the martlet, And jewels too! two rich and precious stones, Builds in the weather, on the outward wall, Stol'n by my daughter !—Justice! find the girl! Even in the force and road of casualty. She hath the stones upon her, and the ducats !" I will not choose what many men desire,
Salar. Why, all the boys in Venice follow him, Because I will not jump with common spirits, Crying, his stones, his daughter, and his ducats. And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.
Salan. Let good Antonio look he keep his day, Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house ; Or he shall pay for this.
Tell me once more what title thou dost bear:
"Who chooseth me shall get as much as he deserves;”
Take what wife you will to bed, And well said too; for who shall go about
I will ever be your head : To cozen fortune, and be honourable,
So begone : you are sped." Without the stamp of merit? Let none presume
Still more fool I shall appear To wear an undeserved dignity.
By the time I linger here: | 0! that estates, degrees, and offices,
With one fool's head I came to woo, Were not deriv'd corruptly; and that clear honour
But I go away with two.Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer !
Sweet, adieu. I'll keep my oath, How many then should cover, that stand bare;
Patiently to bear my wroth. How many be commanded, that command :
[Exeunt Arragon, and train.
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
[Curtains drawn. [He opens the silver casket.
Enter a Messenger. Por. Too long a pause for that which you find there. Mess. Where is
my lady? Ar. What's here? the portrait of a blinking idiot, Por.
Here; what would my lord ? Presenting me a schedule? I will read it.
Mess. Madam, there is alighted at your gate How much unlike art thou to Portia !
A young Venetian, one that comes before
Who chvoseth me shall have as much as he deserves." From whom he bringeth sensible regreets ;
To wit, (besides commends, and courteous breath,) Is that my prize? are my deserts no better?
Gifts of rich value; yet I have not seen
A day in April never came so sweet,
To show how costly summer was at hand,
As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord.
Por. No more, I pray thee: I am half afeard,
Thou wilt say anon he is some kin to thee,
Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising him.-
Come, come, Nerissa; for I long to see
Cupid's quick post, that comes so mannerly.
Ner. Bassanio, lord Love, if thy will it be. [Exeunt.
SCENE 1.–Venice. A Street.
Salar. That's certain : I, for my part, knew the tailor
that made the wings she flew withal. Enter Salanio and SALARINO.
Salan. And Shylock, for his own part, knew the Salan. Now, what news on the Rialto ?
bird was fledg’d; and then, it is the complexion of Salar. Why, yet it lives there uncheck’d, that Anto- them all to leave the dam. nio hath a ship of rich lading wreck'd on the narrow Shy. She is damned for it. seas; the Goodwins, I think they call the place : a Salar. That's certain, if the devil may be her judge. very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the carcasses of Shy. My own flesh and blood to rebel ! many a tall ship lie buried, as they say, if my gossip, Salar. Out upon it, old carrion ! rebels it at these report, be an honest woman of her word.
years ? Salan. I would she were as lying a gossip in that, Shy. I say, my daughter is my flesh and blood. as ever knapped ginger, or made her neighbours be- Salar. There is more difference between thy flesh and lieve she wept for the death of a third husband. But hers, than between jet and ivory; more between your it is true, without any slips of prolixity, or crossing the bloods, than there is between red wine and rhenish. plain high-way of talk, that the good Antonio, the But tell us, do you hear whether Antonio have had bonest Antonio,-0, that I had a title good enough to any loss at sea or no? keep his name company !
Shy. There I have another bad match : a bankrupt, Salar. Come, the full stop.
a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on the Salan. Ha !-what say'st thou?—Why the end is, Rialto ;-a beggar, that was wont to come so smug he hath lost a ship.
upon the mart.- Let him look to his bond : he was Salar. I would it might prove the end of his losses. wont to call me usurer ;-let him look to his bond :
Salan. Let me say amen betimes, lest the devil he was wont to lend money for a Christian courtesy ; cross my prayer; for here he comes in the likeness of -let him look to his bond. a Jew.
Salar. Why, I am sure, if he forfeit, thou wilt not Enter SHYLOCK.
take his flesh: what's that good for? How now, Shylock? what news among the merchants? Shy. Po bait fish withal : if it will feed nothing else,
Sky. You knew, none so well, none so well as you, it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me, and of my daughter's flight.
hindered me half a million ; laughed at my losses,