And let us make incifion for your love, Have lov'd it too: I would not change this hue, Por. In terms of choice I am not folely led By nice direction of a maiden's eyes : Mor. Ev'n for that I thank you; Por. You must take your chance, Or Or swear, before you choose, if you choose wrong, Never to speak to lady afterward In way of marriage; therefore be advis'd. Mor. Nor will not; therefore bring me to my chance. Por. First, forward to the temple; after dinner Your hazard shall be made. Mor. Good fortune then! To make me blest, or cursed'st among men. [cornets. [Exeunt. Laun. CE ERTAINLY, my confcience will ferve me to run from this Jew my mafter. The fiend is at mine elbow, and tempts me, saying to me, Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away. My confcience says, no; take heed, honest Launcelot, take heed, honeft 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 confcience hanging about the neck of my heart, says very wifely to me, my honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's fon, or rather an honest woman's fon - for, indeed, my father did fomething smack, something grow to; he had a kind of tafte. Well, my confcience says, budge not; budge, says the fiend; budge not, says my confcience: confcience, say I, you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel ill. To be rul'd by my confcience, 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, saving your reverence, is the devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnal; and, in my my confcience, my confcience is but a kind of hard confcience, 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 fandblind, high gravel-blind, knows me not; I will try confufions 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. 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, fir, but a poor man's fon. His father, though I say'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 master Launcelot. Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, fır. 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 heav'n. Gob. 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 hovel-post, 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 reft his foul! alive, or dead? Laun. Do you not know me, father? Gob. Alack, fir, I am sandblind, 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 blessing; 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, fir, stand 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 blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be. Gob. I cannot think, you are my fon. Laun. I know not what I shall think of that: but I am Launcelot the Jew's man, and, I am fure, 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 worship'd might he be! what a beard hast thou got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my thill-horse has on his tail. Laun. It should feem then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am fure, he had more hair on his tail that 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 fet up my reft 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 في 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 Bassanio with Leonardo and a follower or two more. Baff. You may do fo; but let it be so hafted, that supper be ready at the fartheft by five of the clock: fee these letters deliver'd, put the liveries to making, and defire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. Laun. To him, father. 1 Gob. God bless your worship! Baff. Gramercy, would'st thou ought with me? Gob. Here's my fon, fir, a poor boy. Laun. Not a poor boy, fir, but the rich Jew's man, that would, fir, as my father shall specify. Gob. He hath a great infection, fir, as one would say, to serve. Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a defire as my father shall specify. Gob. His mafter and he, saving your worship's reverence, are scarce cater-coufins. 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 frutify unto you. Gob. I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship; and my fuit is مق Laun. In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, as your worship shall know by this honeft old man; and, though I fay it, though old man, yet, poor man, my father. Baff. One speak for both, what would you? Laun. Serve you, fir. Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, fir.. Shylock, thy master, spoke with me this day, The |