[_Exit a Servant._ _Laun._ To him, father. _Gob._ God bless your worship! _Bass._ Gramercy! wouldst thou aught with me? 110 _Gob._ Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy,— _Laun._ Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew’s man; that would, sir,—as my father shall specify,— _Gob._ He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve,— 115 _Laun._ Indeed, the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a desire,—as my father shall specify,— _Gob._ His master and he, saving your worship’s reverence, are scarce cater-cousins,— _Laun._ To be brief, the very truth is that the Jew, 120 having done me wrong, doth cause me,—as my father, being, I hope, an old man, shall frutify unto you,— _Gob._ I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship, and my suit is,— _Laun._ In very brief, the suit is impertinent to myself, 125 as your worship shall know by this honest old man; and, though I say it, though old man, yet poor man, my father. _Bass._ One speak for both. What would you? _Laun._ Serve you, sir. _Gob._ That is the very defect of the matter, sir. 130 _Bass._ 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. 135 _Laun._ 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. _Bass._ Thou speak’st it well. Go, father, with thy son. Take leave of thy old master and inquire 140 My lodging out. Give him a livery More guarded than his fellows’: see it done. _Laun._ Father, in. I cannot get a service, no; I have ne’er a tongue in my head. Well, if any man in Italy have a fairer table which doth offer to swear upon a book, I 145 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; 150 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._ _Bass._ I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this: These things being bought and orderly bestow’d, 155 Return in haste, for I do feast to-night My best-esteem’d acquaintance: hie thee, go. _Leon._ My best endeavours shall be done herein. _Enter_ GRATIANO. _Gra._ Where is your master? _Leon._ Yonder, sir, he walks. [_Exit._ _Gra._ Signior Bassanio,— 160 _Bass._ Gratiano! _Gra._ I have a suit to you.