LANCELOT Well, let his father be what a will, we talk of young Master Lancelot.
GOBBO Your worship’s friend, and Lancelot, sir.
LANCELOT But I pray you, ergo old man, ergo I beseech you, talk you of young Master Lancelot?
GOBBO Of Lancelot, an’t please your mastership.
LANCELOT Ergo Master Lancelot. Talk not of Master Lancelot, 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.
LANCELOT ⌈aside⌉ Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or a prop? (To Gobbo) 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?
LANCELOT Do you not know me, father?
GOBBO Alack, sir, I am sand-blind. I know you not.
LANCELOT 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. (Kneeling) 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.
GOBBO Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you are not Lancelot, my boy.
LANCELOT Pray you, let’s have no more fooling about it, but give me your blessing. I am Lancelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be. 81
GOBBO I cannot think you are my son.
LANCELOT I know not what I shall think of that, but I am Lancelot 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 Lancelot thou art mine own flesh and blood.
He feels Lancelot’s head
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. 90
LANCELOT 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?
LANCELOT 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 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.
Enter Bassanio with Leonardo and followers
O rare fortune! Here comes the man. To him, father, for I am a Jew if I serve the Jew any longer.
BASSANIO (toone of his men) 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 Graziano to come anon to my lodging. Exit one
LANCELOT (to Gobbo) To him, father.
GOBBO (to Bassanio) God bless your worship.
BASSANIO Gramercy. Wouldst thou aught with me? 115
GOBBO Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy—
LANCELOT (to Bassanio) Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew’s man that would, sir, as my father shall specify.
GOBBO (to Bassiano) He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve—
LANCELOT Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a desire as my father shall specify.
GOBBO (to Bassiano) His master and he, saving your worship’s reverence, are scarce cater-cousins.
LANCELOT (to Bassiano) 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 (to Bassiano) I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship, and my suit is—
LANCELOT (to Bassiano) 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?
LANCELOT Serve you, sir.
GOBBO (to Bassiano) That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
BASSANIO (to Lancelot)
I know thee well. Thou hast obtained thy suit.
Shylock thy master spoke with me this day,
And hath preferred thee, if it be preferment
To leave a rich Jew’s service to become
The follower of so poor a gentleman.
LANCELOT 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. (To Gobbo) Go, father, with thy son.
(To Lancelot) Take leave of thy old master and enquire
My lodging out. (To one of his men) Give him a livery
More guarded than his fellows’. See it done. 150
LANCELOT (to Gobbo) Father, in. I cannot get a service, no, I have ne’er a tongue in my head—well!
He looks at his palm
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—a[as, fifteen wives is nothing. Eleven 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 featherbed—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. Exit with 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 tonight
My best-esteemed acquaintance. Hie thee. Go.
LEONARDO
My best endeavours shall be done herein.
He begins to leave. Enter Graziano
GRAZIANO (to Leonardo)
Where’s your master?
LEONARDO Yonder, sir, he walks. Exit
GRAZIANO
Signor Bassanio.
BASSANIO Graziano.
GRAZIANO
I have a suit to you.
BASSANIO You have obtained it.
GRAZIANO
You must not deny me. I must go with you to Belmont.
BASSANIO
Why then, you must. But hear thee, Graziano,
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 misconstered in the place I go to, 180
And lose my hopes.
GRAZIANO Signor 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 185