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The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare
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Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso
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17
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02_02
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1991-04-10
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263 lines
Venice. A Street.
Enter LAUNCELOT GOBBO.
Launcelot 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 "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 "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.
Old Gobbo Master young man, you, I pray you which is the way to Master
Jew's?
Launcelot [Aside.] O heavens, this is my true-begotten father, who,
being more than sand-blind, high gravel-blind, knows me not.
I will try confusions with him.
Old Gobbo Master young gentleman, I pray you which is the way to
Master Jew's?
Launcelot 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.
Old Gobbo 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?
Launcelot Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [Aside.] Mark me now,
now will I raise the waters. [Aloud.] Talk you of young
Master Launcelot?
Old Gobbo 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.
Launcelot Well, let his father be what a' will, we talk of young
Master Launcelot.
Old Gobbo Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.
Launcelot But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk you
of young Master Launcelot?
Old Gobbo Of Launcelot, and't please your mastership.
Launcelot 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.
Old Gobbo Marry God forbid! The boy was the very staff of my age, my
very prop.
Launcelot [Aside.] Do I look like a cudgel or a hovel-post, a staff or
a prop? - Do you know me father?
Old 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?
Launcelot Do you not know me, father?
Old Gobbo Alack, sir, I am sand-blind; I know you not.
Launcelot 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.
Old Gobbo Pray you, sir, stand up. I am sure you are not Launcelot my
boy.
Launcelot 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.
Old Gobbo I cannot think you are my son.
Launcelot I know not what I shall think of that; but I am Launcelot,
the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother.
Old Gobbo Her name is Margery indeed. I'll be sworn, if thou be
Launcelot thou art mine own flesh and blood. 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.
Launcelot 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.
Old Gobbo Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master
agree? I have brought him a present. How 'gree you now?
Launcelot 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. O rare fortune, here comes the
man! To him, father, for I am a Jew if I serve the Jew any
longer.
Enter BASSANIO, and LEONARDO, with a FOLLOWER or two.
Bassanio You may do so, but let it be so hasted that supper be ready
at the furthest by five of the clock. See these letters
delivered, put the liveries to making, and desire Gratiano
to come anon to my lodging.
[Exit one of his FOLLOWERS.
Launcelot To him father.
Old Gobbo God bless your worship!
Bassanio Gramercy. Wouldst thou aught with me?
Old 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.
Old 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.
Old 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.
Old 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.
Old Gobbo That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
Bassanio 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.
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 his FOLLOWERS.] 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! Well, [Looking 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! 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.
[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.
[Going.
Enter GRATIANO.
Gratiano Where's your master?
Leonardo Yonder, sir, he walks.
[Exit.
Gratiano Signor Bassanio!
Bassanio Gratiano!
Gratiano I have suit to you.
Bassanio You have obtained 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 misconstered in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.
Gratiano 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
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 tonight; you shall not gauge me
By what we do tonight.
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 suppertime.
[Exeunt.