Laun. [Aside.] O heavens, this is my true | hair on his tail, than I have on my face, when begotten father! who, being more than sand- I last saw him. blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not:-I will try conclusions with him.

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. Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree: I have brought him a present; How 'gree you now?

Laun. Well, well; but, for mine own part, as I have set up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I have run some ground: my master's a very Jew: Give him a present! give him a halter: I am famish'd in his service; you may tell 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 not him, I will run as far as God has any ground. Laun. Talk you of young master Launce--O rare fortune! here comes the man ;-to lot?-Mark me now; [aside.] now will I raise him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew the waters:-Talk you of young master Launce- any longer. lot?

Gob. By God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launce lot, that dwells with him, dwell with him, or

no?

Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young master Launcelot.

Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, Sir.

Laun. But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo, I 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. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovelpost, a staff, 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 rest his soul!) alive, or dead?

Laun. Do you not know me, father?
Gob. Alack, Sir, I am sand-blind, I know
You not.

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 son: Give me your blessing: truth will come to light; murder cannot be hid long, a man's son 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 mine own flesh and blood. Lord worshipp'd might he be! what a beard hast thou got thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my thillhorset has on his tail.

Lann. It should seem then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am sure he had more

Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO, and other
Followers.

Bass. You may do so;-but let it be so hasted, 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. [Exit a Servant, Laun. To him, father.

Gob. God bless your worship!

Bass. Gramercy; Would'st thou aught with

me?

Gob. Here's my son, Sir, a poor boy,Laun. Not a poor boy, Sir, but the rich Jew's man; that would, Sir, as my father shall specify,

Gob. He hath a great infection, Sir, as one would say, to serve

Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and I have a desire, as my fa ther shall specify,

Gob. His master and he, (saving your worship's reverence,) are scarce cater-cousins:

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, shali frutify 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 myself, as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say it, though old man, yet, poor man, my father.

Bass. One speak for both;-What would you?

Laun. Serve you, Sir.

Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, Sir-
Bass. 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 so 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. Bass. Thou speak'st it well: Go, father with

thy son:

Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
My lodging out:-Give him a livery

[To his Followers. 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 head.-Well; [Looking on his palm. if any man in Italy have à fairer table, which doth offer to swear upon

The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio:-
What, Jessica!-thou shall not gormandize,
As thou hast done with me ;-What, Jessica!-
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out;-
Why, Jessica, I say!

Laun. Why, Jessica!

Shy. Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee
call.

Laun. Your worship was wont to tell me, I could do nothing without bidding.

Enter JESSICA.

Jes. Call you? What is your will?
Shy I am bid forth to supper, Jessica;
There are my keys:-But wherefore should I
I am not bid for love; they flatter me:
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
[go?
The prodigal Christian.-Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house:-I am right loath to go;
There is some ill a brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

Laun I beseech you, Sir, go; my young master doth expect your reproach.

Shy. So do I his.

Laun. And they have conspired together,-I will not say, you shall see a masque; but if you do, then it was not for nothing that my nose fell a bleeding on Black-Monday last, at six o'clock i'the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four year in the after

noon.

Shy. What are there masques? Hear you

me, Jessica :
Lock up my doors; and when you hear the
[drum,
And the vile squeaking of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street,
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces:
But stop my house's ears, I mean my case-
ments;

Let not the sound of shallow foppery enter
My sober house.-By Jacob's staff, I swear,
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night:
But I will go.-Go you before me, sirrah;
Say, I will come.

Luun. I will go before, Sir.-
Mistress, look out at window, for all this;
There will come a Christian by,
Will be worth a Jewess' eye. [Exit LAUN.
Shy. What says that fool of Hagar's off-
spring, ha?

Jes. His words were, Farewell, mistress;
nothing else.

Shy. The patch is kind enough; but a huge
feeder.

Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
More than the wild cat; drones hive not with

me.

Therefore I part vith him; and part with him
To one that I would have him help to waste
His borrow'd purse.-Well, Jessica, go in ;
Perhaps, I will return immediately;
Do, as I bid you,

Shut doors after you: Fast bind, fast find;
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind. [Exit.
Jes. Farewell: and if my fortune be not
crost,

I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

SCENE VI.-The same.

[Exit.

Enter GRATIANO and SALARNIO, masked. Gra. This is the pent-house, under which Desir'd us to make stand. [Lorenzo * Invited.

Salar. His hour is almost past.
Gra. And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.

Salar. O, ten times faster Venus' pigions fly
To seal love's bonds new made, than they are
To keep obliged faith unforfeited! [wont,

Gra. That ever holds: Who rises from a
feast,

With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated tire
That he did pace them first? All things that are,
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker, or a prodigal,
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
How like the prodigal doth she return;
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!

Albeit I'll swear that I do know your tongue,
Lor. Lorenzo, and thy love.

Jes. Lorenzo, certain; and my love, indeed;
For who love I so much? And now who knows,
But you, Lorenzo, whether I am yours?

Lor. Heaven, and thy thoughts, are witness

that thou art.

Jes. Here, catch this casket; it is worth the
pains.

I am glad 'tis night, you do not look on me,
For I am much asham'd of my exchange:
But love is blind, and lovers cannot see
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush
The pretty follies that themselves commit;
To see me thus transformed to a boy.

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torch-
bearer.

Jes. What, must I hold a candle to my
shames?
They in themselves, good sooth, are too too
[light
Why, 'tis an office of discovery, love;
And I should be obscur'd.

Even in the lovely garnish of a boy.
Lor. So are you, sweet,

But come at once;

For the close night doth play the run-away.
And we are staid for at Bassanio's feast.

Jes. I will make fast the doors, and gild my.

self

With some more ducats, and be with you
straight.
[Exit, from above.
Gra. Now, by my hood, a Gentile, and no

Jew.

Lor. Beshrew me, but I love her heartily:
For she is wise, if I can judge of her;
And fair she is, if that mine eyes be true;
And therefore, like herself, wise, fair, and true
And true she is, as she hath proved herself;
Shall she be placed in my constant soul.

* Decorated with flags

The French and English, there miscarried
A vessel of our country richly fraught:
I thought upon Antonio, when he told me;
And wish'd in silence, that it were not his.
Salan You were best to tell Antonio what
you hear;

Yet do not suddenly, for it may grieve him.
Salar. A kinder gentleman treads not the
I saw Bassanio and Antonio part:
Bassanio told him, he would make some speed
[earth.
Of his return; he answer'd-Do not so,
Slubber not business for my sake, Bassanio,
But stay the very riping of the time;
And for the Jew's bond, which he hath of me,
Let it not enter in your mind of love:
Be merry; and employ your chiefest thoughts
To courtship, and such fair ostents of love
As shall conveniently become you there:
And even there, his eye being big with tears,
Turning his face, he put his hand behind him,
And with affection wondrous sensible,
He wrung Bassanio's hand, and so they parted.
Salun. I think, he only loves the world for
I pray thee, let us go, and find him out, [him.
And quicken his embraced heaviness+
With some delight or other.
Salar. Do we so.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IX.-Belmont.-A Room in PORTIA'S
House.

Enter NERISSA, with a Servant.

Ner. Quick, quick, I pray thee, draw the
curtain straight;

The prince of Arragon hath ta'en his oath,
And comes to his election presently.

Flourish of Cornets. Enter the PRINCE OF AR-
RAGON, PORTIA, and their Trains.

Per. Behold, there stand the caskets, noble

prince:

If you choose that wherein I am contain'd,
Straight shall our nuptial rites be solemniz'd;
But if you fail, without more speech, my lord,
You must be gone from hence immediately.
Ar. I am enjoin'd by oath to observe three
First, never to unfold to any one
Which casket 'twas I chose; next, if I fail
[things:
Of the right casket, never in my life
To woo a maid in way of marriage; lastly,
If I do fail in fortune of my choice,
Immediately to leave you and be gone.
Por. To these injunctions every one doth

swear,

now

That comes to hazard for my worthless self.
Ar. And so have I address'd me: Fortune
To my heart's hope!-Gold, silver, and base
[lead.
Who chooseth me, must give and hazard all he hath:
You shall look fairer, ere I give, or hazard.
What says the golden chest? ha! let me see:-
Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men de-
What many men desire. That many may be
[meant
By the fool multitude, that choose by show,
Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach;
Which pries not to the anterior, but, like the
martlet,

sire.

Builds in the weather on the outward wall,
Even in the force|| and road of casualty.
I will not choose what many men desire,
Because I will not jump¶ with common spirits,
And rank me with the barbarous multitudes.

To slubber, is to do a thing carelessly.
+ Shows, tokens. + The heaviness he is fond of.
Prepared.
! Power.
¶ Agree with.

Why, then to thee, thou silver treasure-house}
Tell me once more what title thou dost hear:
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves
To cozen fortune, and be honourable
And well said too: For who shall go about
Without the stamp of merit! Let none presume
O, that estates, degrees, and offices, [honou
To wear an undeserved dignity.
Were purchas'd by the merit of the wearer!
Were not deriv'd corruptly! and that clear
How many then, should cover that stand bare.
How many be commanded, that command?
How much low peasantry would then be gleand
From the true seed of honour? and how much
honour

Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times,
To be new varnish'd? Well, but to my choice:
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
And instantly unlock my fortunes here.
I will assume desert;-Give me a key for this,

Por. Too long a pause for that which you
find there.

Ar. What's here? the portrait of a blinking
idiot,

Presenting me a schedule? I will read it.
How much unlike art thou to Portia ?
How much unlike my hopes, and my deserv-
[ings?
Did I deserve no more than a fool's head!
Who chooseth me, shall have as much as he deserves.
Is that my prize? are my deserts no better?
Por. To offend, and judge, are distinct offices,
And of opposed natures.

Ar. What is here?

The fire seven times tried this;
Seven times tried that judgement 1,
That did never choose amiss:

Some there be, that shadows kiss ;
Such have but a shadow's bliss:
There be fools alive, I wis,*
Silver'd o'er; and so was this.
Take what wife you will to bed,
I will ever be your head:
So begone, Sir, you are sped.
Still more fool I shall appear
By the time I linger here:
With one fool's head I came to woo,
But I go away with two.-
Sweet, adieu! I'll keep my oath,
Patiently to bear my wroth.

[Exeunt ARRAGON, and Train.
Por. Thus hath the candle sing'd the moth.
O these deliberate fools! when they do choose
They have the wisdom by their wit to lose.

Ner. The ancient saying is no heresy ;-
Hanging and wiving goes by destiny.
Por. Come, draw the curtain, Nerissa.
Enter a SERVANT.

Serv. Where is my lady?
Por. Here; what would myord?
Serv. Madam, there is alighted at your gat
To signify the approaching of his lord:
A young Venetian, one that comes before
To wit, besides commends, and courteou.
From whom he bringeth sensible regreets:+
Gifts of rich value; yet I have not seen
So likely an embassador of love:
breath,
A day in April never came so sweet,
To show how costly summer was at hand.
As this fore-spurrer comes before his lord.

Thou wilt say anon, he is some kin to thee,
Por. No more, I pray thee; I am half afeard,
Thou spend'st such high-day wit in praising
him.-