Who if he break, thou may'st with better face Why, look you, how you Exact the penalty. And you'll not hear me. This is kind I offer. Ant. This were kindness. Shy. This kindness will I show Go with me to a notary, seal me there Of your fair flesh, to be cut off and taken In what part of your body pleaseth me. Ant. Content, in faith: I ll seal to such a bond, And say there is much kindness in the Jew. Bass. You shall not seal to such a bond for me: I'll rather dwell in my necessity. Ant. Why, fear not, man; I will not forfeit it: Within these two months, that's a month before This bond expires, I do expect return Of thrice three times the value of this bond. Shy. O, father Abraham! what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealings teaches them suspect The thoughts of others! Pray you, tell me this; By the exaction of the forfeiture? A pound of man's flesh, taken from a man, Is not so estimable', profitable neither, And, for my love, I pray you, wrong me not. Ant. Yes, Shylock, I will seal unto this bond. I will be with you. Ant. ACT II. SCENE I. Belmont. An Apartment in PORTIA's House. [Exit. [Exeunt. Enter the Prince of Morocco, and his followers; РOKTIA, NERISSA, and other of her Train. Flourish Cornets. Mor. Mislike me not for my complexion, The shadow'd livery of the burnish'd sun, To prove whose blood is reddest, his, or mine. Hath fear'd the valiant: by my love, I swear, Have lov'd it too. I would not change this hue, I. 369 His wife who wins me by that means I told you, For my affection. Mor. Even for that I thank you : Therefore, I pray you, lead me to the caskets, That slew the Sophy, and a Persian prince, And so may I, blind fortune leading me, Por. You must take your chance; And either not attempt to choose at all, Or swear before you choose, if you choose wrong, Never to speak to lady afterward 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 shall be made. Mor. To make me blest, or cursed'st among men! Good fortune then, SCENE III. Venice. A Street. Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO. [Cornets. [Exeunt. Laun. Certainly, 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, honest 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 heavens, 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, son, "My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man's 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, "Launcelot, budge not." "Budge," says the fiend: "budge not," says my conscience. Conscience, say I, you counsel well; fiend, say I, you counsel well to be ruled 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 Jew is the very devil incarnation; and, in 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. [Aside.] O heavens! this is my true begotten father, who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me - I will try confusions with him. not: 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 Jew's house. Gob. By God's sonties, 't will 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. you of young master Launcelot? [To him.] Gob. No master, Sir, but a poor man's son: his father, though I say it, is an honest exceeding poor man; and, God be thanked, well to live. Laun. Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of young master Launcelot. Gob. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, Sir. Laun. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk you of young master Launcelot? Gob. 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 sisters three, and such branches of learning,) is, indeed, deceased; or, as you would say, in plain terms, gone to heaven. Gob. Marry, God forbid! the boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop. Laun. [Aside.] Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a staff, or a prop? - [To him.] 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 rest his soul!) alive, or dead? Laun. Do you not know me, father? Gob. Alack, Sir, I am sand-blind; 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. [Kneels.] 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 |