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your love,

And let us make incifion for
To prove whose blood is reddest, his or mine.
I tell thee, lady, this aspect of mine
Hath fear’d the valiant; by my love, I swear,
The best regarded virgins of our clime
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 solely led
By nice direction of a maiden's eyes :
Besides, the lottery of my destiny
Bars me the right of voluntary choosing.
But if my father had not scanted me,
And hedg’d me by his will to yield myself
His wife, who wins me by that means I told you ;
Yourself, renowned prince, then stood as fair
As any comer I have look' on yet,

Mor. Ev’n for that I thank you ;
Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets
To try my fortune. By this scimitar,
That slew the sophy, and a Perjan prince,
That won three fields of sultan Solyman,
I would outstare the sternest eyes that look,
Outbrave the heart most daring on the earth,
Pluck the young sucking cubs from the fhe-bear,
Yea, mock the lion when he roars for prey,
To win thee, lady. But, alas the while !
If Hercules and Lychas play at dice
Which is the better man,

May turn by fortune from the weaker hand:
So is Alcides beaten by his page ;
And so may I, blind fortune leading me,
Miss that which one unworthier may attain,
And die with grieving.

Por. You must take your chance,
And either not attempt to choose at all,

greater throw


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choose wrong,

Or swear, before
you choose, if

Never to speak to lady afterward
In way of marriage; therefore be advis’d.

Mor. Nor will not; therefore bring me to my chance.

Por. First, forward to the temple; after dinner
Your hazard shall be made.
Mor. Good fortune then!

To make me blest, or cursed'st among men. [Exeunt.

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Enter Launcelot alone.
Laun. TERTAINLY, 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, honeft 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 fiend, for the heav'ns 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, budge not; budge, says the fiend; budge
not, says my conscience: conscience, say I, you counsel well;
fiend, say I, you counsel ill. To be ruld 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 few is the very devil incarnal; and, in


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my conscience, my conscience is but a kind of hard conscience, to offer to counsel me to stay with the Jew. The fiend gives the more friendly counsel; I will run, fiend, my heels are at your commandment, I will run.

Enter old Gobbo with a basket. Gob. Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to master Jew's?

Laun. Ó heav'ns! this is my true begotten father, who, being more than fandblind, high gravel-blind, knows me not; I will try confusions with him.

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 Jer’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; 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't, 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, fir.

Laun. But, I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk


master Launcelot ? Gób. 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 fifters three, and such branches of learning,) is, indeed, deceased, or, as you would say in plain terms, gone to heav'n.


you of


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-post, a staff, or a prop ? do you know me, father?

Göb. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman ; but,
I pray you, tell me, is my boy, god reft his soull alive, or dead?
Laun. Do you not know me, father?
Gob. Alack, sir, I am sandblind, 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

Gob. Her name is Margery, indeed. I'll be sworn, if thou be Launcelot, thou art mine 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-horse has on his tail.

Laun. It should seem then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward; I am sure, he had more hair on his tail that I have on my face when I last saw him.

Gob. Lord, how art thou chang'd! how dost thou and thy master agree? I have brought him a present; how agree 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 few: give him a present? give him a halter : I am familh'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

is my mother.


to one master Bassanio, who, indeed, gives rare new liveries ; if I serve 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 serve the Jew any longer.

Enter Bassanio with Leonardo and a follower or two more.

Bas. 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

Laun. To him, father.
Gob. God bless your worship!
Bas. Gramercy, would'st thou ought with me?
%. Here's my son, fir, a poor boy.

Laun. Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's man, that would, fir, 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 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 fuit is

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

Bas. One speak for both, what would you?
Läun. Serve you, fir.
Gob. This is the very defect of the matter, fir. ·

Baj. I know thee well, thou haft obtain'd thy fuit;
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




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