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. 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 worshipp'd 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. 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 chang'd! 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 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, with a FOLLOWER or two

  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
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
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?
  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.
  BASSANIO. Thou speak'st it well. Go, father, with thy son.
    Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
    My lodging out. [To a SERVANT] 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! [Looking on his palm] 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;
    a'leven 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.
                                  Exeunt LAUNCELOT and OLD GOBBO
  BASSANIO. I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.
    These things being bought and orderly bestowed,
    Return in haste, for I do feast to-night
    My best esteem'd acquaintance; hie thee, go.
  LEONARDO. My best endeavours shall be done herein.

Enter GRATIANO

  GRATIANO. Where's your master?
  LEONARDO. Yonder, sir, he walks. Exit
  GRATIANO. Signior Bassanio!
  BASSANIO. Gratiano!
  GRATIANO. I have 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-
    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 behaviour
    I be misconst'red 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
    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

SCENE III. Venice. SHYLOCK'S house

Enter JESSICA and LAUNCELOT

  JESSICA. I am sorry thou wilt leave my father so.
    Our house is hell; and thou, a merry devil,
    Didst rob it of some taste of tediousness.
    But fare thee well; there is a ducat for thee;
    And, Launcelot, soon at supper shalt thou see
    Lorenzo, who is thy new master's guest.
    Give him this letter; do it secretly.
    And so farewell. I would not have my father
    See me in talk with thee.
  LAUNCELOT. Adieu! tears exhibit my tongue. Most beautiful
pagan,
    most sweet Jew! If a Christian do not play the knave and get
    thee, I am much deceived. But, adieu! these foolish drops do
    something drown my manly spirit; adieu!
  JESSICA. Farewell, good Launcelot. Exit