If you repay me not on fuch a Day, Of your fair Flefh, to be cut off and taken Anth. Content, in Faith, I'll feal to fuch a Bond, Anth. Why fear not Man, I will not forfeit it; Of thrice three times the value of this Bond, Shy. O Father Abraham, what these Chriftians are! A Pound of Man's Flesh taken from a Man, And for my Love I pray you wrong me not. I'll be with you. [Exit. Anth. Hie thee, gentle Jew. This Hebrew will turn Chriftian, he grows kind. Baff. I like not fair Terms, and a Villain's Mind. Anth. Come on, in this there can be no difmay, My Ships come home a Month before the Day. [Exeunt, ! ACT. ACT II SCENE I. SCENE Belmont. Enter Morochius a Tawny-Moor all in White, and three or four Followers accordingly, with Portia, Neriffa, and her Train. Flo. Cornets. Mor. M The Thadowed Livery of the burnifh'd Sun, Iflike me not for my Completion, To whom I am a Neighbour, and near bred. Hath fear'd the Valiant, by my Love I swear, Have lov'd it too: I would not change this Hue, For my Affection. Mor. Even for that I thank you, Therefore I pray you lead me to the Caskets Το To win the Lady. But alas, the while, If Hercules and Lychas play at Dice, Which is the better Man? the greater Throw And fo may I, blind Fortune leading me, Por. You must take your Chance, And either not attempt to chufe at all, Or fwear before you chufe, if In way of Marriage; therefore be advis'd. Mor. Nor will not; come bring me unto my Chance. Por. First forward to the Temple, after Dinner Your hazard fhall be made. Mor. Good Fortune then, To make me bleft or curfed'ft among Men, SCENE II. Venice. Enter Launcelot alone. [Cornets [Exeunt Laun. Certainly, my Confcience will ferve me to run from this Few my Mafter: The Fiend is at my Elbow, and attempts me, faying to me, Job, Launcelot Job, good Launcelot, or good Job, or good Launcelot Job, ufe your Legs, take the ftart, run away: My Confcience fays no; take heed, honeft Launcelot, take heed, honeft Job, or as aforefaid, honeft Launcelot Job, do not run, fcorn running with thy Heels: Well, the moft couragious Fiend bids me pack, Via fays the Fiend, away fays the Fiend, for the Heav'ns roufe up a brave Mind, fays the Fiend, and run. Well, my Confcience hanging about the Neck of my Heart, fays very wifely to me, My honeft Friend Launcelot, being an ho neft Man's Son, or rather an honeft Woman's Son for indeed my Father did fomething fmack, fomething grow too; he had a kind of tafte-Well, my Confcience fays, Launcelot budge not; budge, fays the Fiend; budge not, fays my Confcience; Confcience, fay I, you counfel well; Fiend, fay I, you counfel well; to be rul'd by my Confci ence 1 ence I should stay with the Jew my Mafter, who, God bless the Mark, is a kind of Devil; and to run away from the Jew I fhould be ruled by the Fiend, who, faving your Reverence, is the Devil himself. Certainly the Jew is the very Devil Incarnation, and in my Confcience, my Confcience is a kind of hard Conscience, to offer to counsel me to ftay with the Jew; the Fiend gives the more friendly counfel; I will run, Fiend, my Heels are at your Commandment, I will run. Enter Old Gobbo with a Basket. Gob. Mafter Young-man, you, I pray you, which is the way to Mafter 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 upon 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. Gob. By God's fonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit; can you tell me whither one Launcelot that dwells with him, dwell with him or no? Laun. Talk you of young Mafter Launcelot? Mark me now, now will I raife the Waters; talk you of young Mafter Launcelot ? Gob. No Mater, Sir, but a poor Man's Son, his Father, tho' I fay't, is an honeft exceeding poor Man, and God be thanked well to live. Laun. Well, let his Father be what a will, we talk of young Mafter Launcelot. Gob. Your Worship's Friend and Launcelot. Laun. But I pray you Ergo, old Man, Ergo I befeech you, talk you of young Mafter Launcelot ? Geb. Of Launcelot, an't please your Mastership. Laun. Ergo Mafter Launcelot, talk not of Mafter Launcelot Father, for the young Gentleman according to Fates and Deftinies, and fuch odd Sayings, the Sifters three, and fuch Branches of Learning, is indeed deceased, or as you would fay in plain terms, gone to Heaven. Gob. 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-poft, a Staff 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 Soul, 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 Son, give me your Bleffing, Truth will come to light, Murder cannot be hid long, a Man's Son may, but in the end Truth will not. 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 Son that is, your Child that fhall be. Gob. I cannot think you are my Son. 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 my Mother. is Gob. Her Name is Margery indeed, I'll be fworn 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 Phil-horse 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 chang'd! how doft thou and thy Mafter agree? I have brought him a Prefent; how gree 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 Present! give him a Halter: I am famifh'd in his Service. You may tell every Finger I have with my Ribs. Father I am glad you are come, give me your Prefent to one Mafter Bassanio, who |