The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare [classic english novels .txt] 📗

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 of an eye.

[Exeunt LAUNCELOT and OLD GOBBO.]

BASSANIO.
I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this:
These things being bought and orderly bestow'd,
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 misconstrued 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 3. The same. A room in 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 LAUNCELOT]

Alack, what heinous sin is it in me
To be asham'd to be my father's child!
But though I am a daughter to his blood,
I am not to his manners. O Lorenzo!
If thou keep promise, I shall end this strife,
Become a Christian and thy loving wife.

[Exit]


SCENE 4. The same. A street

[Enter GRATIANO, LORENZO, SALARINO, and SALANIO.]

LORENZO.
Nay, we will slink away in supper-time,
Disguise us at my lodging, and return
All in an hour.

GRATIANO.
We have not made good preparation.

SALARINO.
We have not spoke us yet of torch-bearers.

SALANIO.
'Tis vile, unless it may be quaintly order'd,
And better in my mind not undertook.

LORENZO.
'Tis now but four o'clock; we have two hours
To furnish us.

[Enter LAUNCELOT, With a letter.]

Friend Launcelot, what's the news?

LAUNCELOT.
An it shall please you to break up this, it shall seem
to signify.

LORENZO.
I know the hand; in faith, 'tis a fair hand,
And whiter than the paper it writ on
Is the fair hand that writ.

GRATIANO.
Love news, in faith.

LAUNCELOT.
By your leave, sir.

LORENZO.
Whither goest thou?

LAUNCELOT.
Marry, sir, to bid my old master, the Jew, to sup
to-night with my new master, the Christian.

LORENZO.
Hold, here, take this. Tell gentle Jessica
I will not fail her; speak it privately.
Go, gentlemen,

[Exit LAUNCELOT]

Will you prepare you for this masque to-night?
I am provided of a torch-bearer.

SALARINO.
Ay, marry, I'll be gone about it straight.

SALANIO.
And so will I.

LORENZO.
Meet me and Gratiano
At Gratiano's lodging some hour hence.

SALARINO.
'Tis good we do so.

[Exeunt SALARINO and SALANIO.]

GRATIANO.
Was not that letter from fair Jessica?

LORENZO.
I must needs tell thee all. She hath directed
How I shall take her from her father's house;
What gold and jewels she is furnish'd with;
What page's suit she hath in readiness.
If e'er the Jew her father come to heaven,
It will be for his gentle daughter's sake;
And never dare misfortune cross her foot,
Unless she do it under this excuse,
That she is issue to a faithless Jew.
Come, go with me, peruse this as thou goest;
Fair Jessica shall be my torch-bearer.

[Exeunt]


SCENE 5. The same. Before SHYLOCK'S house

[Enter SHYLOCK and LAUNCELOT.]

SHYLOCK.
Well, thou shalt see; thy eyes shall be thy judge,
The difference of old Shylock and Bassanio: -
What, Jessica! - Thou shalt not gormandize,
As thou hast done with me; - What, Jessica! -
And sleep and snore, and rend apparel out -
Why, Jessica, I say!

LAUNCELOT.
Why, Jessica!

SHYLOCK.
Who bids thee call? I do not bid thee call.

LAUNCELOT.
Your worship was wont to tell me I could do nothing
without bidding.

[Enter JESSICA.]

JESSICA.
Call you? What is your will?

SHYLOCK.
I am bid forth to supper, Jessica:
There are my keys. But wherefore should I go?
I am not bid for love; they flatter me;
But yet I'll go in hate, to feed upon
The prodigal Christian. Jessica, my girl,
Look to my house. I am right loath to go;
There is some ill a-brewing towards my rest,
For I did dream of money-bags to-night.

LAUNCELOT.
I beseech you, sir, go: my young master doth expect your
reproach.

SHYLOCK.
So do I his.

LAUNCELOT.
And they have conspired together; I will not say you
shall see a masque, but if you do, then it was not for nothing
that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black Monday last at six o'clock
i' the morning, falling out that year on Ash-Wednesday was four
year in the afternoon.

SHYLOCK.
What! are there masques? Hear you me, Jessica:
Lock up my doors, and when you hear the drum,
And the vile squealing of the wry-neck'd fife,
Clamber not you up to the casements then,
Nor thrust your head into the public street
To gaze on Christian fools with varnish'd faces;
But stop my house's ears- I mean my casements;
Let not the sound of shallow fopp'ry enter
My sober house. By Jacob's staff, I swear
I have no mind of feasting forth to-night;
But I will go. Go you before me, sirrah;
Say I will come.

LAUNCELOT.
I will go before, sir. Mistress, look out at window for all this;
There will come a Christian by
Will be worth a Jewess' eye.

[Exit LAUNCELOT.]

SHYLOCK.
What says that fool of Hagar's offspring, ha?

JESSICA.
His words were 'Farewell, mistress'; nothing else.

SHYLOCK.
The patch is kind enough, but a huge feeder;
Snail-slow in profit, and he sleeps by day
More than the wild-cat; drones hive not with me,
Therefore I part with him; and part with him
To one that I would have him help to waste
His borrow'd purse. Well, Jessica, go in;
Perhaps I will return immediately:
Do as I bid you, shut doors after you:
'Fast bind, fast find,'
A proverb never stale in thrifty mind.

[Exit.]

JESSICA.
Farewell; and if my fortune be not crost,
I have a father, you a daughter, lost.

[Exit.]


SCENE 6. The same.

[Enter GRATIANO and SALARINO, masqued.]

GRATIANO.
This is the pent-house under which Lorenzo
Desir'd us to make stand.

SALARINO.
His hour is almost past.

GRATIANO.
And it is marvel he out-dwells his hour,
For lovers ever run before the clock.

SALARINO.
O! ten times faster Venus' pigeons fly
To seal love's bonds new made than they are wont
To keep obliged faith unforfeited!

GRATIANO.
That ever holds: who riseth from a feast
With that keen appetite that he sits down?
Where is the horse that doth untread again
His tedious measures with the unbated fire
That he did pace them first? All things that are
Are with more spirit chased than enjoy'd.
How like a younker or a prodigal
The scarfed bark puts from her native bay,
Hugg'd and embraced by the strumpet wind!