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And for my love, I pray you, wrong me not.
Anth. Hie thee gentle Jew.
This Hebrew will turn Christian; he
Enter Morochius, a Tawny-Moor, all in white; and three or four followers accordingly; with Portia, Neriffa, and her train. Flourish cornets.
Mor. Iflike me not for my complexion,
The fhadow'd livery of the burnish'd fun, To whom I am a neighbour, and near bred. Bring me the fairest creature northward born, Where Phebus' fire scarce thaws the icicles, And let us make incifion for your love, To prove whofe blood is reddeft, his or mine. I tell thee, Lady, this afpect of mine Hath fear'd the valiant; by my love, I fwear, The beft-regarded virgins of our clie 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 folely led By nice direction of a maiden's eyes : Befides, the lottery of my deftiny Bars me the right of voluntary chufing. But if my father had not fcanted 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 flood as fair,
As any comer I have look'd on yet,
Mor. Ev'n for that I thank you;
Por. You must take your chance,
Mor. Nor will not; therefore bring me to my chance.
Por. Firft, forward to the temple; after dinner Your hazard fhall be made.
Mor Good fortune then,
To make me blefs'd, or curfed'ft among men! [Exeunt.
Changes to Venice.
Enter Launcelot alone.
Laun. Certainly my confcience will ferve me to run from this Jew my master. The fiend is at mine elbow, and tempts me, faying to me, Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot, or good Gobbo, or good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away. My confcience fays, No; take heed, honeft Launcelot; take heed, honeft Gobbo; or, as aforefaid, honeft Latincelet Gobbo, do not run; fcorn running with thy
heels. Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack;
Enter old Gobbo, with a basket.
Gob. Mafter young man, you, I pray you, which is · the way to Malter Jew's?
Laun. O heav'ns, this is my true-begotten father, who being more than fand-blind, high-gravel-blind, knows me not; I will try confufions with him.
Gob. Mafter young Gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to Mafter 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 houfe.
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 Master Launcelot? (mark
· 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.
Laun. Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young Mafter Launcelot
Gob. Your Worthip's friend and Launcelot, Sir. Laun. But I pray you ergo, old man; ergo, I befeech you, talk you of young Mafter Launcelot ?
Gob. Of Launcelot, an't pleafe your Mafterthip.
Laun. Ergo, Mafter Launcelot; talk not of Mafter 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 deceased; or, as you would fay, in plain terms, gone to heav'n.
Geb. 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, a ftaff 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 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 bleffing, 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
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 fleth and blood: Lord worthipp'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 laft faw him.
Gob. Lord, how art thou change'd! how doft thou and thy mafter agree? I have brought him a prefent; 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 Jew: 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 Mafter Baffanio, 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
Baff. You may do fo; but let it be fo hafted, that fupper be ready at the fartheft by five of the clock: fee thefe letters deliver'd, put the liveries to making, and defire Gratiano to come anon to my lodging.
Laun. To him, father.
Gab. God bless your Worfhip !
Ba. Gramercy, wouldst thou aught with me!
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 fay, to ferve
Laun. Indeed, the short and the long is, I ferve the Jew, and have a defire, as my father fhall fpecify,Gob. His mafter and he, faving your Worthip'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 frutify unto you,
Gob. I have here a difh of doves, that I would bestow upon your Worship; and my fuit is