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 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.

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.

Lawn. It should seem then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward;

* Experiments.

am sure he had more

+ Shaft-horse.

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. -O rare fortune! here comes the man ;-to him, father; for I am a Jew, if I serve the Jew any longer.

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

thy son:

[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: [go? But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon 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.

me, Jessica:

Shy. What are there masques? Hear you [drum, Lock up my doors; and when you hear the 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 casements;

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 offspring, 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 with 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.

Sular. O, ten times faster Venus' pigions fly To seal loye'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 fire
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,

Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
How like the prodigal doth she return;
With over-weather'd ribs, and ragged sails,
Lean, rent, and beggar'd by the strumpet wind!

Enter LORENZO.

Salar. Here comes Lorenzo ;-more of this hereafter.

Lor. Sweet friends, your patience for my long abode;

Not I, but my affairs, have made you wait; When you shall please to play the thieves for wives,

I'll watch as long for you then.-Approach; Here dwells my father Jew:-Ho! who's within.

Enter JESSICA above, in boy's clothes.

Jes. Who are you? Tell me, for more certainty,

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

The pretty follies that themselves commit;
To see me thus transformed to a boy.
For if they could, Cupid himself would blush

Lor. Descend, for you must be my torchbearer.

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

lead?

This casket threatens : Men, that hazard all,
Do it in hope of fair advantages:

A golden mind stoops not to shows of dross ;
I'll then nor give, nor hazard, aught for lead.
What says the silver, with her virgin hue?
Who chooseth me, shall get as much as he deserves.
As much as he deserves? Pause there, Morocco,
And weigh thy value with an even hand:
If thou be'st rated by thy estimation,
Thou dost deserve enough; and yet enough
May not extend so far as to the lady;
And yet to be afeard of my deserving,
Were but a weak disabling of myself.
As much as I deserve!-Why, that's the lady:
I do in birth deserve her, and in fortunes,
In graces, and in qualities of breeding;
But more than these, in love I do deserve.
What if I stray'd no further, but chose here?
Let's see once more this saying grav'd in gold:
Who chooseth me, shall gain what many men de-

sire.

Why, that's the lady; all the world desires her:
From the four corners of the earth they come,
To kiss this shrine, this mortal breathing saint.
The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds
Of wide Arabia, are as through-fares now,
For princes to come view fair Portia :
The watery kingdom, whose ambitious head
Spits in the face of heaven, is no bar
To stop the foreign spirits; but they come,
As o'er a brook, to see fair Portia. [ture.
One of these three contains her heavenly pic-

Is't like, that lead contains her? "Twere dam-
To think so base a thought; it were too gross
nation,
To rib* her cerecloth in the obscure grave.
Or shall I think, in silver she's immur'd,
Being ten times undervalued to try'd gold?
O sinful thought! Never so rich a gem
Was set in worse than gold. They have in
England

A coin, that bears the figure of an angel
Stamped in gold; but that's insculp'd upon;
But here an angel in a golden bed
Lies all within.-Deliver me the key;
Here do I choose, and thrive I as I may!
Por. There, take it, prince, and if my form
lie there,

Then I am yours. [He unlocks the golden casket.
Mor. O hell! what have we here?
A carrion death, within whose empty eye
There is a written scroll? I'll read the writing.
All that glisters is not gold,

Often have you heard that told:
Many a man his life hath sold,
But my outside to behold:
Gilded tombs do worms infold.
Had you been as wise as bold,
Young in limbs, in judgement old,
Your answer had not been inscrol'd:
Fare you well; your suit is cold.
Cold, indeed; and labour lost;
Then, farewell, heat; and, welcome, frost.
Portia, adieu! I have too griev'd a heart
To take a tedious leave: thus losers part.

sail:

But there the duke was given to understand,
That in a gondola were seen together
Lorenzo and his amorous Jessica :
Besides, Antonio certified the duke,
They were not with Bassanio in his ship.

Salan. I never heard a passion so confus'd,
So strange, outrageous, and so variable,
As the dog Jew did utter in the streets:
My daughter!-O my ducats!-O my daughter!
Fled with a Christian?-Omy Christian ducats!--
Justice! the law! my ducats, and my daughter!
A sealed bag, two sealed bags of ducats,
Of double ducats, stol'n from me by my daughter!
And jewels; two stones, two rich and precious