Gob. Mafter 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 Jeau'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 mafter Launcelot? (mark me now, now will I raise the waters ;) talk you of young mafter Launcelot ?

Gob. No mafter, Sir, but a poor man's fon. His father, though I fay't, is an honeft exceeding poor man, and, God be thanked, well to live.

of

Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk young mafter 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 mafter Launcelot ?

Gob. Of Launcelot, an't pleafe your mastership.

Laun. Ergo, mafter Launcelot; talk not of master Launcelot, father, for the young gentleman (according to fates and deftinies, and fuch odd fayings, the fifters three, and fuch branches of learning,) is, indeed, deceafed; or, as you would say, in plain terms, gone to heav'n.

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 poft, an ftaff or a prop? do you know me, father?

Gob. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentle man; 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, Sir, I am fand-blind, 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 blefling, 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, Sir, ftand 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 bleffing; I am Launcelot, your boy, that was, your fon that is, your child that shall

be.

Gob. I cannot think, you are my fon.

Laun. I know not, what I fhall 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 fworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art my own flesh and blood: lord worship'd might he be! what a beard haft thou got! thou haft got more hair on thy chin, than Dobbin my Thill-horfe has on his tail.

Laun. It fhould feem then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am fure, 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 doft thou and thy mafter 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, fo I will not reft 'till I have run fome ground. My mafter's a very few give him a prefent! give him a halter: I am famifh'd in his fervice. You may tell every finger I have with my ribs. Father, I am glad you are come; give me your prefent 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 Baffanio with Leonardo, and a follower or

two more.

Baff. You may do fo; but let it be fo hafted, that fupper be ready at the fartheft by five of the clock: see these

letters

letters deliver'd, put the liveries to making, and defire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.

Laun. To him, father.

Gob. God bless your worship!

Bal. Gramercy, would't thou aught with me?
Gob. Here's my fon, Sir, a poor boy,

Laun. Not a poor boy, Sir, but the rich Jew's man, that would, Sir, as my father fhall specifie,

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

Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I ferve the Jew, and have a defire, as my father shall specifie,Gob. His mafter and he, faving your worship's reverence, are scarce catercoufins.

Laun. To be brief, the very truth is, that the Jew, having done me wrong, doth caufe me, as my father, being I hope an old man, fhall frutifie unto you,

Gob. I have here a dish of doves, that I would bestow upon your worship; and my fuit is

Laun. In very brief, the fuit is impertinent to myfelf, as your worship fhall know by this honeft old man; and though I fay it, though old man, yet poor man my father.

Baff. One fpeak for both, what would you?
Laun. Serve you, Sir.

Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, Sir. Baff. I know thee well, thou haft obtain'd thy fuit; Shylock, thy mafter, spoke with me this day,

And hath preferr'd thee; if it be preferment

To leave a rich Jew's fervice, to become

The follower of fo poor a gentleman.

Laun. The old proverb is very well parted between my mafter Shylock and you, Sir; you have the grace of God, Sir, and he hath enough.

Baff. Thou fpeak'ft it well; go, father, with thy fon: Take leave of thy old mafter, and enquire

My lodging out; give him a livery,

More guarded than his fellows: fee it done.

Laun. Father, in; I cannot get a service, no? I have ne'er a tongue in my head? well, if any man in Italy

have (6) a fairer table, which doth offer to fwear upon
a book, I fhall have good fortune; go to, here's a fim-
ple line of life; here's a small trifle of wives; alas, fif-
teen wives is nothing, eleven widows and nine maids is
a fimple coming-in for one man! and then to 'fcape drown-
ing thrice, and to be in peril of my life with the edge of a
feather bed, here are fimple 'fcapes! well, if fortune
be a woman, fhe's a good wench for this geer. Father,
come; I'll take my leave of the Jew in the twinkling
of an eye.
[Exeunt Laun. and Gob.
Baff. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.
These things being bought and orderly bestowed,
Return in hafte, 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?

Laun. Yonder, Sir, he walks.

Gra. Signior Baffanio,

Baff. Gratiano!

Gra. I have a fuit to you.
Baff. You have obtain❜d it.

[Exit Leonardo.

Gra, You must not deny me, I must go with you to Belmont.

Baff. Why, then you muft: but hear thee, Gratiano, Thou art too wild, too rude, and bold of voice;

(6) Well, if any man in Italy have &c.] The Pofition of the Words makes the Sentence fomewhat obfcure: Their natural Order should be This. Well, if any man in Italy, which doth offer to fwear upon a Book, bave a fairer Table, I shall have good Luck. And the Humour of the Paffage feems This Launcelot, a Joker, and defignedly a Blunderer, fays the very Reverse of what he should do which is, That if no Man in Italy, who would offer to take his Oath upon it, bath a fairer Ta◄ ble than He, be shall have good Fortune. The Banter may, partly, be on Chiromancy in general: but it is very much in Cha racter for Launcelot, who is a hungry Serving-man, to confider his Table before his Line of Life, or any other Points of Fortune.

Parts,

Parts, that become thee happily enough,
And in fuch eyes as ours appear not faults;
But where thou art not known, why, there they fhew
Something too liberal; pray thee, take pain
T'allay with fome cold drops of modefty

Thy skipping fpirit; left, through thy wild behaviour,
I be mifconftru'd in the place I go to,

And lofe my hopes.

Gra: Signior Bassanio, hear me.

If I do not put on a fober habit,

Talk with respect, and swear but now and then,
Wear prayer-books in my pockets, look demurely;
Nay more, while grace is faying, hood mine eyes
Thus with my hat, and figh, and say, Amen
Use all th' obfervance of civility,

Like one well ftudied in a fad oftent

To please his grandam; never trust me more.
Baff. Well, we shall fee your bearing.

Gra. Nay, but I bar to-night, you fhall not gage me By what we do to-night.

Ball. No, that were pity.

I would intreat you rather to put on

Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends
That purpose merriment: but fare you well,

I have fome business.

Gra. And I must to Lorenzo and the reft: But we will vifit you at fupper-time.

Jes.

[Exeunt.

SCENE changes to Shylock's House.

I

Enter Jeffica and Launcelot.

'M forry, thou wilt leave my father fo
Our houfe is hell, and thou, a merry devil,

Didft rob it of fome tafte of tediousness;

But fare thee well, there is a ducat for thee.
And, Launcelot, foon at fupper fhalt thou fee
Lorenzo, who is thy new mafter's guest;
Give him this letter, do it fecretly,

And so farewel: I would not have my father

See