The Merchant of Venice - Shakespeare Right Now!

“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—”
“I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon Your Worship, and my suit is—”
“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 holds up a hand. “One speak for both! What would you?”
“Serve you, sir!” says Launcelot.
Gobbo nods: “That is the very defect of the matter, sir.”
Bassanio chuckles; he smiles at the boy. “I know thee well; thou hast obtained thy suit!
Shylock thy master spoke with me this day, and hath… preferred thee”—he considers a
disparaging by Shylock to be a kind of endorsement. But Bassanio’s servants, though well paid,
are not pampered. “If it be a preferment to leave a rich Jew’s service to become the follower of so
poor a gentleman.”
Says Launcelot, bowing, “The old proverb”—The grace of God is gear enough—“is very
well divided between my master Shylock and you, sir. You have the grace of God, sir; and he
hath enough!”
“Thou speak’st it well,” laughs Bassanio. “Go, father, with thy son.
“Take leave of thy old master,” he tells Launcelot, “and enquire my lodging out.” Pulling a
list from his coat pocket, Bassanio tells a servant, “Give him a livery more elaborate than his
fellows’”—implying a higher rank. “See it done.”
But at that, Launcelot pulls his dad aside. “Father, in! I cannot get a service! No!—I have
ne’er a tongue in my head!” Apprehensive, he resorts to the best of seers: he studies his own
palm. He likes what he sees. “Well, if any man in Italy have no fairer a table which doth offer to
swear upon a book, I shall have good fortune!
“Go to,” he says, tracing happily with a forefinger. “Here’s a simple line of life; here’s a
small trifle of wives, alas! Fifteen wives—eleven widows—is nothing; and nine maids is a simple
coming-in for one man.” He traces further. “And then to ’scape drowning thrice, and to be in peril
of my life at 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!” Master Gobbo leads
his father away toward Shylock’s house.
Bassanio hands another paper to a trusted servant. “I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this!
These things being bought and orderly bestowed, return in haste, for I do feast tonight my bestesteemed
acquaintance! Hie thee, go!”
Leonardo bows. “My best endeavours shall be done herein!” He hurries away, passing
Gratiano on the street.
“Where is your master?” asks that gentleman urgently.
“Yonder, sir, he walks.”
“Signior Bassanio!”
“Gratiano!”
“I have a suit to you,” Gratiano begins.
“You have obtained it!”
But Gratiano has a serious request to make. “You must not deny me! I must go with you to
Belmont!” He had accompanied Bassanio on the previous visit.
Bassanio’s smile is magnanimous. “Why, then you must!
“But hear thee, Gratiano,” he warns, “thou art too wild, too rude and bold of voice—parts that
become thee happily enough, and appear not faults in such eyes as ours. But where thou art not
known, why, there they show as somewhat too liberal.”
He rests a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Pray thee, take pain to allay with some cold
drops of modesty thy skipping spirit, lest through thy wild behavior I be misconstered in the place
I go to, and lose my hopes!”
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