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, with LEONARDO, with and other Followers.]
BASSANIO.
You may do so; but let it be so hasted that supper be
ready at the farthest by five of the clock. See 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 —
