Gra. You look not well, signior Antonio;
You have too much respect upon the world:
They lose it, that do buy it with much care.
Believe me, you are marvellously chang'd.
Ant. I hold the world but as the world,
tiano;

A stage, where every man must play a part,
And mine a sad one.

Gra

Gra.
Let me play the fool:
With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come;
And let my liver rather heat with wine,
Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
Sit like his grandsire cut in alabaster?
Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice
By being peevish? I tell thee what, Antonio,-
I love thee, and it is my love that speaks ;-
There are a sort of men, whose visages
Do cream and mantle, like a standing pond;
And do a wilful stillness' entertain,
With purpose to be dress'd in an opinion
Of wisdom, gravity, profound conceit;
As who should say, I am sir Oracle,
And, when I ope my lips, let no dog bark!
O, my Antonio, I do know of these,
That therefore only are reputed wise,
For saying nothing; who, I am very sure,

If they should speak, would almost damn those ears,
Which, hearing them, would call their brothers,
fools.

I'll tell thee more of this another time:
But fish not with this melancholy bait,
For this fool's gudgeon, this opinion.-
Come, good Lorenzo:-Fare ye well, a while;
I'll end my exhortation after dinner.

Within the eye of honour, be assur'd,
My purse, my person, my extremest means,
Lie all unlock'd to your occasions.

Bass. In my school-days, when I had lost one
shaft,

I shot his fellow of the self-same flight
The self-same way, with more advised watch,
To find the other forth; and by advent'ring both,
I oft found both: I urge this childhood proof,
Because what follows is pure innocence.
I owe you much; and, like a wilful youth,
That which I owe is lost: but if you please
To shoot another arrow that self way
Which you did shoot the first, I do not doubt,
As I will watch the aim, or to find both,
Or bring your latter hazard back again,
And thankfully rest debtor for the first.

Ant. You know me well; and herein spend but
time,

To wind about my love with circumstance;
And, out of doubt, you do me now more wrong,
In making question of my uttermost,
Than if you had made waste of all I have:
Then do but say to me what I should do,
That in your knowledge may by me be done,
And I am prest2 unto it: therefore, speak.

Bass. In Belmont is a lady richly left,
And she is fair, and, fairer than that word,
Of wondrous virtues: sometimes from her eyes
I did receive fair speechless messages:
Her name is Portia; nothing undervalued
To Cato's daughter, Brutus Portia.
Nor is the wide world ignorant of her worth;
For the four winds blow in from every coast
Renowned suitors and her sunny locks
Hang on her temples like a golden fleece;
Which makes her seat of Belmont, Colchos' strand,
And many Jasons come in quest of her.
O my Antonio, had I but the means
To hold a rival place with one of them,
I have a mind presages me such thrift,
own That I should questionless be fortunate.

Lor. Well, we will leave you then till dinner

time:

I must be one of these same dumb wise men,
For Gratiano never lets me speak.

Gra. Well, keep me company but two years

more,

Thou shalt not know the sound of thine tongue.

Ant. Farewell: I'll grow a talker for this gear. Gra. Thanks, i'faith; for silence is only commendable

In a neat's tongue dried, and a maid not vendible. [Exeunt Gratiano and Lorenzo.

Ant. Is that any thing now?
Bass. Gratiano speaks an infinite deal of nothing,
more than any man in all Venice: His reasons are
as two grains of wheat hid in two bushels of chaff;
you shall seek all day ere you find them; and, when
you have them, they are not worth the search.

Ant. Well; tell me nowwhat lady is this same
To whom you swore a set pilgrimage,
That you to-day promise to tell me of?

Bass. 'Tis not unknown to you, Antonio,
How much I have disabled mine estate,
By something showing a more swelling port
Than my faint means would grant continuance :
Nor do I now make moan to be abridg'd
From such a noble rate; but my chief care
Is, to come fairly off from the great debts,
Wherein my time, something too prodigal,
Hath left me gaged: To you, Antonio,
I owe the most, in money, and in love;
And from your love I have a warranty
To unburthen all my plots and purposes,
How to get clear of all the debts I owe.

Ant. Thou know'st, that all my fortunes are at

sea;

Nor have I money, nor commodity
To raise a present sum: therefore go forth,
Try what my credit can in Venice do;
That shall be rack'd, even to the uttermost,
To furnish thee to Belmont, to fair Portia.
Go, presently inquire, and so will I,
Where money is; and I no question make,
To have it of my trust, or for my sake. [Exeuni:
SCENE II.-Belmont. A room in Portia's

house. Enter Portia and Nerissa.
Por. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is
aweary of this great world.

Ner. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are: And yet, for aught I see, they are as sick, that surfeit with too much, as they that starve with nothing: It is no mean happiness therefore, to be seated in the mean; superfluity comes sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.

Por. Good sentences, and well pronounced. Ner. They would be better, if well followed. Por. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages, princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions: I can easier teach

Ant. I pray you, good Bassanio, let me know it; twenty what were good to be done, than be one of And, if it stand, as you yourself still do,

the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain

(3) Formerly.

may devise laws for the blood; but a hot temper a beast: an the worst fall that ever fell, I hope, I leaps over a cold decree: such a hare is madness shall make shift to go without him. the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel Ner. If he should offer to choose, and choose the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion the right casket, you should refuse to perform your to choose me a husband:-O me, the word choose! father's will, if you should refuse to accept him. I may neither choose whom I would, nor refuse Por. Therefore, for fear of the worst, I pray whom I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter thee, set a deep glass of Rhenish wine on the coucurb'd by the will of a dead father:-Is it not hard, trary casket: for, if the devil be within, and that Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none? temptation without, I know he will choose it. I Ner. Your father was ever virtuous; and holy will do any thing, Nerissa, ere I will be married to men, at their death, have good inspirations; there- a spunge.

fore, the lottery, that he hath devised in these three Ner. You need not fear, lady, the having any chests, of gold, silver, and lead, (whereof who of these lords; they have acquainted me with their chooses his meaning, chooses you,) will, no doubt, determinations: which is, indeed, to return to their never be chosen by any rightly, but one who you home, and to trouble you with no more suit; unless shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in you may be won by some other sort than your fayour affection towards any of these princely suitors ther's imposition, depending on the caskets. that are already come?

Por. I pray thee, over-name them; and as thou namest them, I will describe them; and, according to my description, level at my affection.

Por. If I live to be as old as Sybilla, I will die as chaste as Diana, unless I be obtained by the manner of my father's will: I am glad this parcel of wooers are so reasonable; for there is not one among them but I dote on his very absence, and I pray God grant them a fair departure.

Ner. First, there is the Neapolitan prince. Por. Ay, that's a colt,' indeed, for he doth nothing but talk of his horse: and he makes it a great Ner. Do you not remember, lady, in your faappropriation to his own good parts, that he can ther's time, a Venetian, a scholar, and a soldier, shoe him himself: I am much afraid, my lady, his that came hither in company of the Marquis of mother, played false with a smith. Montferrat?

Por. Yes, yes, it was Bassanio; as I think, so was he called.

Ner. True, madam; he, of all the men that ever my foolish eyes looked upon, was the best

Ner. Then is there the county2 Palatine. Por. He does nothing but frown; as who should say, An if you will not have me, choose: he hears merry tales, and smiles not: I fear, he will prove the weeping philosopher when he grows old, being deserving a fair lady. so full of unmannerly sadness in his youth. I had rather be married to a death's head with a bone in his mouth, than to either of these. God defend me from these two!

Ner. How say you by the French lord, Monsieur Le Bon?

Por. I remember him well; and I remember him worthy of thy praise.-How now! what news? Enter a Servant.

Serv. The four strangers seek for you, madam, to take their leave: and there is a forerunner come Por. God made him, and therefore let him pass from a fifth, the prince of Morocco; who brings for a man. In truth, I know it is a sin to be a word, the prince, his master, will be here to-night. mocker: But, he! why, he hath a horse better than Por. If I could bid the fifth welcome with so the Neapolitan's; a better bad habit of frowning good heart as I can bid the other four farewell, I than the count Palatine: he is every man in no should be glad of his approach: if he have the man: if a throstle sing, he falls straight a caper- condition of a saint, and the complexion of a devil, ing; he will fence with his own shadow: if I should I had rather he should shrive me than wive me. marry him, I should marry twenty husbands: If Come, Nerissa.-Sirrah, go before.-Whiles we he would despise me, I would forgive him; for if shut the gate upon one wooer, another knocks at he love me to madness, I shall never requite him. the door. [Exeunt. Ner. What say you then to Falconbridge, the SCENE III.-Venice. A public place. Enter young baron of England? Bassanio and Shylock."

Por. You know, I say nothing to him: for he understands not me, nor I him: he hath neither Latin, French, nor Italian; and you will come into the court and swear, that I have a poor penny-worth in the English. He is a proper man's picture But, alas! who can converse with a dumb show? How oddly he is suited! I think he bought his doublet in Italy, his round hose in France, his bonnet in Germany, and his behaviour every where. Ner. What think you of the Scottish lord, his neighbour?

Por. That he hath a neighbourly charity in him; for he borrowed a box of the ear of the Englishman, and swore he would pay him again, when he was able: I think the Frenchman became his surety, and sealed under for another.

Ner. How like you the young German, the duke of Saxony's nephew?

Shy. Three thousand ducats,-well.
Bass. Ay, sir, for three months.
Shy. For three months,-well.

Bass. For the which, as I told you, Antonio shall be bound.

Shy. Antonio shall become bound,-well. Bass. May you stead me? Will you pleasure me? Shall I know your answer?

Shy. Three thousand ducats, for three months, and Antonio bound.

Bass. Your answer to that.
Shy. Antonio is a good man.
Bass. Have you heard any imputation to the
contrary?

Shy. Ho, no, no, no, no ;-my meaning, in saying he is a good man, is to have you understand me, that he is sufficient: yet his means are in supPor. Very vilely in the morning, when he is so-position: he hath an argosy bound to Tripolis, ber; and most vilely in the afternoon, when he is another to the Indies: I understand moreover upon drunk: when he is best, he is a little worse than a the Rialto, he hath a third at Mexico, a fourth for man; and when he is worst, he is little better than England, and other ventures he hath, squan

(1) A heady, gay youngster.

(2) Count.

.(3) Temper, qualities.

der'd abroad: But ships are but boards, sailors but] And in the doing of the deed of kind,' men: there be land-rats, and water-rats, water- He stuck them up before the fulsome ewes ; thieves, and land-thieves; I mean, pirates; and Who, then conceiving, did in eaning time then, there is the peril of waters, winds, and rocks: Fall party-colour'd lambs, and those were Jacob's. The man is, notwithstanding, sufficient;-three This was a way to thrive, and he was blest; thousand ducats ;-I think I may take his bond. And thrift is blessing, if men steal it not. Bass. Be assured you may.

Shy. I will be assured I may; and, that I may be assured, I will bethink me: May I speak with Antonio?

Bass. If it please you to dine with us.

Ant. This was a venture, sir, that Jacob serv'd for;

A thing not in his power to bring to pass, But sway'd and fashion'd, by the hand of heaven. Was this inserted to make interest good? Shy. Yes, to smell pork; to eat of the habita- Or is your gold and silver, ewes and rams? tion which your prophet, the Nazarite, conjured Shy. I cannot tell: I make it breed as fast:the devil into: I will buy with you, self with you, But note me, signior. talk with you, walk with you, and so following; but I will not eat with you, drink with you, nor pray with you. What news on the Rialto?-Who is he comes here ?

Enter Antonio.

Bass. This is signior Antonio.

Shy. [Aside.] How like a fawning publican he
looks!

I hate him, for he is a Christian :
But more, for that, in low simplicity,
He lends out money gratis, and brings down
The rate of usance here with us in Venice.
If I can catch him once upon the hip,

I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him.
He hates our sacred nation; and he rails,
Even there where merchants most do congregate,
On me, my bargains, and my well-won thrift,
Which he calls interest: Cursed be my tribe,
If I forgive him!

Bass.

Shylock, do you hear?

Shy. I am debating of my present store;
And, by the near guess of my memory,
I cannot instantly raise up the gross

Of full three thousand ducats: What of that?
Tubal, a wealthy Hebrew of my tribe,
Will furnish me: But soft; How many months
Do you desire ?-Rest you fair, good signior;
[To Antonio.
Your worship was the last man in our mouths.
Ant. Shylock, albeit I neither lend nor borrow,
By taking, nor by giving of excess,
Yet, to supply the ripe wants' of my friend,
I'll break a custom :-Is he yet possessed, 2
How much you would ?
Shy.

Ant.

Mark you this, Bassanio,
The devil can cite scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul, producing holy witness,
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek;
A goodly apple rotten at the heart;

O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!
Shy. Three thousand ducats,-'tis a good round

sum.

Three months from twelve, then let me see the rate..
Ant. Well, Shylock, shall we be beholden to you?
Shy. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft,
In the Rialto you have rated me
About my monies, and my usances:
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug;
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe:
You call me-misbeliever, cut-throat dog,
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine,
And all for use of that which is mine own.
Well then, it now appears, you need my help :
Go to then; you come to me, and you say,
Shylock, we would have monies; You say so;
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard,
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur
Over your threshold; monies is your suit.
What should I say to you? Should I not say,
Hath a dog money? is it possible,

A cur can lend three thousand ducats? or,
Shall I bend low, and in a bondsman's key,
With 'bated breath, and whispering humbleness,
Say this,-

Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last;
You spurn'd me such a day; another time
You call'd me-dog; and for these courtesies
I'll lend you thus much monies.

Ant. I am as like to call thee so again, Ay, ay, three thousand ducats. To spit on thee again, to spurn thee too. Ant. And for three months. If thou wilt lend this money, lend it not Shy. I had forgot,-three months, you told me so. As to thy friends (for when did friendship take Well then, your bond; and, let me see,- -But A breed for barren metal of his friend?

hear you;,

I do never use it.

-

But lend it rather to thine enemy;

Methought, you said, you neither fend, nor borrow, Who if he break, thou may'st with better face
Upon advantage.
Exact the penalty.
Ant.
Shy.
Why, look you, how you storm!
Shy.When Jacob graz'd his uncle Laban's sheep, I would be friends with you, and have your love,
This Jacob from our holy Abraham was
Forget the shames that you have stain'd me with,
(As his wise mother wrought in his behalf,) Supply your present wants, and take no doit
The third possessor; ay, he was the third." Of usance for my monies, and you'll not hear me :
This is kind I offer.

Ant. And what of him? did he take interest?
Shy. No, not take interest; not, as you would say,
Directly interest: mark what Jacob did.
When Laban and himself were compromis'd,
That all the eanlings which were streak'd, and
pied,

Should fall as Jacob's hire; the ewes, being rank,
In the end of autumn turned to the rams:
And when the work of generation was
Between these woolly breeders in the act,
The skilful shepherd peel'd me certain wands,

(1) Wants which admit no longer delay.

Ant. This were kindness.
Shy.
This kindness will I show:-
Go with me to a notary, seal me there
Your single bond; and, in a merry sport,
If you repay me not on such a day,
In such a place, such sum, or sums, as are
Express'd in the condition, let the forfeit
Be nominated for an equal pound
Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken
In what part of your body pleaseth me.

MERCHANT OF VENICE.

Ant. Content, in faith: I'll seal to such a bond,That won three fields of Sultan Solyman,
And say, there is much kindness in the Jew.

Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me,
I'll rather dwell' in my necessity.

Ant. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it;
Within these two months, that's a month before
This bond expires, I do expect return

Of thrice three times the value of this bond.
Shy. O father Abraham, what these Christians

are;

Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect
The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this;
If he should break his day, what should I gain
By the exaction of the forfeiture?

A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man,
Is not so estimable, profitable neither,
As flesh of muttons, beefs, or goats. I say,
To buy his favour, I extend this friendship:
If he will take it, so; if not, adieu;
And, for my love, I pray you, wrong me not.

Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond.
Shy. Then meet me forthwith at the notary's;
Give him direction for this merry bond,
And I will go and purse the ducats straight;
See to my house, left in the fearful guard
Of an unthrifty knave; and presently
I will be with you.

Ant.
This Hebrew will turn Christian; he grows kind.
Hie thee, gentle Jew.
[Exit.
Bass. I like not fair terms, and a villain's mind.
Ant. Come on: in this there can be no dis-
may,

My ships come home a month before the day.

ACT II.

Act II

Out-brave the heart most daring on the earth,
I would out-stare the sternest eyes that look,
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the she-bear,
To win thee, lady: But, alas the while!
If Hercules, and Lichas, play at dice
May turn by fortune from the weaker hand:
Which is the better man, the greater throw
So is Alcides beaten by his page;

And so may I, blind fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.

Por.
And either not attempt to choose at all,
You must take your chance;
Or swear, before you choose,-if you choose wrong,
Never to speak to lady afterward

In way of marriage; therefore, be advis'd.4
Mor. Nor will not; come, bring me unto my

chance.

Por. First, forward to the temple; after dinner
Your hazard shall be made.
Mor.

Good fortune then! [Cornets. SCENE II.-Venice. A street. Enter Launce[Exeunt. lot Gobbo.

To make me bless'd'st, or cursed'st among men.

run from this Jew, my master: The fiend is at mine Laun. Certainly my conscience will serve me to elbow; and tempts me, saying to me, Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or [Exeunt. good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away: My conscience says,-no; take heed, honest Launcelot; take heed, honest Gobbo; or, as aforesaid, honest Launcelot Gobbo, do not run; scorn running with thy heels: Well, the most

SCENE I.-Belmont. A room in Portia's house. courageous fiend bids me pack; via! says the Flourish of cornets. Enter the Prince of Mo-fiend; away! says the fiend, for the heavens; rouse rocco, and his train; Portia, Nerissa, and other up a brave mind, says the fiend, and run. Well, of her attendants.

Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion,
The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun,
To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred.
Bring me the fairest creature northward born,
Where Phoebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles,
And let us make incision for your love,
To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine
Hath fear'd3 the valiant; by my love, I swear,
The best-regarded virgins of our clime
Have lov'd it too: I would not change this hue,
Except to steal your thoughts, my gentle queen.
Por. In terms of choice I am not solely led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes:
Besides, the lottery of my destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing:
But, if my father had not scanted me,
And hedg'd me by his wit, to yield myself

His wife, who wins me by that means I told you,
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair,
As any comer I have look'd on yet,
For my affection.

Mor.

Even for that I thank you; Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets, To try my fortune. By this scimitar,

That slew the Sophy, and a Persian prince,

(1) Abide.

(2) Allusion to the eastern custom for lovers to testify their passion by cutting themselves in their mistresses' sight.

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 says, Launcelot, budge not; budge, says the fiend; budge not, says my conscience: Conscience, say I, you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well: to be ruled 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, saving your reverence, is the devil himself: Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnation; 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. [Aside.] O heavens, this is my true begotten father! who, being more than sand-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

(3) Terrified.
(5) Experiments.

(4) Not precipitate.

lowers.

turning, but, at the next turning of all, on your Enter Bassanio, with Leonardo, and other folleft; marry, at the very next turning, turn of no hand, but turn down indirectly to the Jew's house. Gob. By God's sonties, '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; [aside.] now will I raise the waters Talk you of young master Launcelot?

Gob. No master, sir, but a poor man's son; his father, though I say it, is an honest 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.

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,-
man; that would, sir, as my father shall specify,
Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's
Gob. He hath a great infection, sir, as one
would say, to serve-

Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir. Laun. But I pray you ergo, old man, ergo, I be- Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve seech you; Talk you of young master Launcelot ? the Jew, and I have a desire, as my father shall Gob. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. specify,

Laun. Ergo, master Launcelot; talk not of Gob. His master and he (saving your worship's master Launcelot, father; for the young gentleman

(according to fates and' destinies, and such odd reverence,) are scarce cater-cousins: Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the sayings; the sisters three, and such branches of Jew having done me wrong, doth cause me, as my learning,) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would father, being I hope an old man, shall frutify unto 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 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 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.

you,

Gob. I have a dish of doves, that I would be stow upon your worship; and my suit is,

Laun. In very brief the suit is impertinent to old man; and, though I say it, though old man, myself, as your worship shall know by this honest 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 obtained 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 be-
the grace of God, sir, and he hath enough.
tween my master Shylock and you, sir; you have

I

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 guarded2 than his fellows': See it done. Laun. Father, in :-I cannot get a service, no; Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, I have ne'er a tongue in my head.-Well; [lookif thou be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and ing on his palm.] if any man in Italy have a fairer blood. Lord worshipp'd might he be! what a beard table, which doth offer to swear upon a book.hast thou got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin, shall have good fortune; Go to, here's a simple than Dobbin my thill-horse' has on his tail. line of life! here's a small trifle of wives: Alas, fifteen wives is nothing; eleven widows, and nine maids, is a simple coming-in for one man: and then, to 'scape drowning thrice; and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a feather-bed;-here are simple 'scapes! Well, if fortune be a woman, she's a good wench for this gear.-Father, come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling of [Exeunt Laun. and old Gob.

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 present; How 'gree you now?

a

Laun. Well, well; but, for my own part, as 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: 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. O rare fortune! here comes the man;to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer.

(1) Shaft-horse. (2) Ornamented.

an eve.

These things being bought, and orderly bestow'd,
Bass. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this;
Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
My best-esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.
Leon. My best endeavours shall be done herein.
Enter Gratiano.

Gra. Where is your master?
Leon.

Yonder, sir, he walks.
Exit Leonardo.

(3) The palm of the hand extended.