ACT II SCENE II | Venice. A street. | |
[Enter LAUNCELOT] |
LAUNCELOT | Certainly my conscience will serve me to run from |
| this Jew my master. 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 |
| 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 courageous fiend bids me |
| pack: 'Via!' says the fiend; 'away!' says the | 10 |
| fiend; 'for the heavens, rouse up a brave mind,' |
| says the fiend, 'and run.' Well, 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. | 20 |
| '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 |
| incarnal; and, in my conscience, my conscience is |
| but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel | 30 |
| me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more |
| friendly counsel: I will run, fiend; my heels are |
| at your command; I will run. |
[Enter Old GOBBO, with a basket] |
GOBBO | Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way |
| to master Jew's? |
LAUNCELOT | [Aside] O heavens, this is my true-begotten father! |
| who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, |
| knows me not: I will try confusions with him. |
GOBBO | Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way | 40 |
| to master Jew's? |
LAUNCELOT | 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. |
GOBBO | 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? |
LAUNCELOT | Talk you of young Master Launcelot? | 50 |
[Aside] |
| Mark me now; now will I raise the waters. Talk you |
| of young Master Launcelot? |
GOBBO | 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. |
LAUNCELOT | Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of |
| young Master Launcelot. |
GOBBO | Your worship's friend and Launcelot, sir. |
LAUNCELOT | But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, |
| talk you of young Master Launcelot? | 60 |
GOBBO | Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership. |
LAUNCELOT | 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. |
GOBBO | Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my |
| age, my very prop. | 70 |
LAUNCELOT | Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or |
| a prop? Do you know me, father? |
GOBBO | 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? |
LAUNCELOT | Do you not know me, father? |
GOBBO | Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not. |
LAUNCELOT | 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 | 80 |
| your son: give me your blessing: truth will come |
| to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son |
| may, but at the length truth will out. |
GOBBO | Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not |
| Launcelot, my boy. |
LAUNCELOT | 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. | 90 |
GOBBO | I cannot think you are my son. |
LAUNCELOT | 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. |
GOBBO | Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn, if thou |
| be Launcelot, thou art mine own flesh and blood. |
| Lord worshipped might he be! what a beard hast thou |
| got! thou hast got more hair on thy chin than |
| Dobbin my fill-horse has on his tail. | 101 |
LAUNCELOT | It should seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows |
| backward: I am sure he had more hair of his tail |
| than I have of my face when I last saw him. |
GOBBO | Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy |
| master agree? I have brought him a present. How |
| 'gree you now? |
LAUNCELOT | Well, well: but, for mine own part, as I have set |
| up my rest to run away, so I will not rest till I | 110 |
| have run some ground. My master's a very Jew: give |
| him a present! give him a halter: I am famished 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. | 120 |
[Enter BASSANIO, with LEONARDO and other followers] |
BASSANIO | 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 delivered; put the liveries to making, |
| and desire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging. |
[Exit a Servant] |
LAUNCELOT | To him, father. |
GOBBO | God bless your worship! |
BASSANIO | Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me? |
GOBBO | Here's my son, sir, a poor boy,-- |
LAUNCELOT | Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man; that | 130 |
| would, sir, as my father shall specify-- |
GOBBO | He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve-- |
LAUNCELOT | Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, |
| and have a desire, as my father shall specify-- |
GOBBO | His master and he, saving your worship's reverence, |
| are scarce cater-cousins-- |
LAUNCELOT | To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, having | 140 |
| done me wrong, doth cause me, as my father, being, I |
| hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you-- |
GOBBO | I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon |
| your worship, and my suit is-- |
LAUNCELOT | 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. |
BASSANIO | One speak for both. What would you? | 150 |
LAUNCELOT | Serve you, sir. |
GOBBO | That is the very defect of the matter, sir. |
BASSANIO | 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. |
LAUNCELOT | 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. | 160 |
BASSANIO | 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 |
| More guarded than his fellows': see it done. |
LAUNCELOT | Father, in. I cannot get a service, no; I have |
| ne'er a tongue in my head. Well, if any man in |
| Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to swear |
| upon a book, I shall have good fortune. Go to, |
| here's a simple line of life: here's a small trifle |
| of wives: alas, fifteen wives is nothing! eleven | 170 |
| 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 an eye. |
[Exeunt Launcelot and Old Gobbo] |
BASSANIO | I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this: |
| These things being bought and orderly bestow'd, |
| Return in haste, for I do feast to-night | 180 |
| My best-esteem'd acquaintance: hie thee, go. |
LEONARDO | My best endeavours shall be done herein. |
[Enter GRATIANO] |
GRATIANO | Where is your master? |
LEONARDO | Yonder, sir, he walks. |
[Exit] |
GRATIANO | Signior Bassanio! |
BASSANIO | Gratiano! |
GRATIANO | I have a suit to you. |
BASSANIO | You have obtain'd it. |
GRATIANO | You must not deny me: I must go with you to Belmont. |
BASSANIO | Why then you must. But hear thee, Gratiano; |
| Thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice; | 190 |
| Parts that become thee happily enough |
| And in such eyes as ours appear not faults; |
| But where thou art not known, why, there they show |
| Something too liberal. Pray thee, take pain |
| To allay with some cold drops of modesty |
| Thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior |
| I be misconstrued in the place I go to, |
| And lose my hopes. |
GRATIANO | Signior Bassanio, hear me: |
| If I do not put on a sober habit, |
| Talk with respect and swear but now and then, |
| Wear prayer-books in my pocket, look demurely, |
| Nay more, while grace is saying, hood mine eyes |
| Thus with my hat, and sigh and say 'amen,' |
| Use all the observance of civility, |
| Like one well studied in a sad ostent |
| To please his grandam, never trust me more. |
BASSANIO | Well, we shall see your bearing. |
GRATIANO | Nay, but I bar to-night: you shall not gauge me |
| By what we do to-night. |
BASSANIO | No, that were pity: |
| I would entreat you rather to put on | 210 |
| Your boldest suit of mirth, for we have friends |
| That purpose merriment. But fare you well: |
| I have some business. |
GRATIANO | And I must to Lorenzo and the rest: |
| But we will visit you at supper-time. |
[Exeunt] |