Launcelet speaks in a stream-of-consciousness comic prose that jumbles logic, malapropisms, and genuine feeling into an irresistible blur. Watch for how he misuses words — 'frutify' for 'certify', 'infection' for 'affection' — always reaching for a grander register than he can sustain.
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,
Launcelet Gobbo, good Launcelet” or “good Gobbo,” or “good Launcelet
Gobbo, use your legs, take the start, run away.” My conscience says
“No; take heed, honest Launcelet, take heed, honest Gobbo” or, as
aforesaid, “honest Launcelet Gobbo, do not run, scorn running with thy
heels.” Well, the most courageous fiend bids me pack. “Fia!” 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
Launcelet, 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 “Launcelet, 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.
My conscience tells me I should run away from this Jew, my master. The devil is at my elbow, tempting me, saying to me 'Gobbo' or 'Launcelet Gobbo, good Launcelet' or 'good Gobbo'—whichever name gets me to listen. You see, the devil is trying to trick me with flattery. My conscience says: 'Don't run away—Shylock is your master, you owe him loyalty.' The devil says: 'Run away, you idiot! The Jew is a kind of devil himself, and you'd be running from a kind of devil to a kind of devil—but one devil is better company than the other.' The fiend gives friendlier counsel than my conscience. I'm resolved—I'll run away.
I'm telling you, my conscience is telling me to quit this Jew and find other work. But the devil's right there in my ear, going 'Launcelet, Launcelet, good Launcelet—hey, Gobbo, good Gobbo.' The devil's being nicer about it than my conscience. My conscience is like, 'You can't leave—he's your master, you owe him everything.' But the devil's saying, 'This guy is basically a demon anyway. You're running from one devil to another, but at least the other guy's more fun.' And honestly? The devil's got a better pitch. So I'm going. I'm done.
my conscience says stay the devil says leave and honestly the devil sounds much friendlier im leaving shylock can figure it out
Old Gobbo speaks with the comfortable bluntness of the rural poor — honest, affectionate, not very quick. His near-blindness is exploited by his son for comedy but also creates the play's first gentle parody of the Isaac-Jacob blessing scene.
Master young man, you, I pray you; which is the way to Master Jew’s?
Good young man, I pray you, which is the way to the Jew's?
Excuse me, young man—which way is the Jew's house?
which way to the jew's house can you tell me
than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not. I will try confusions
with him.
Though you are not as blind as sand-blind or high-gravel blind—you know me not. I will try confusions with you.
Even though you're not completely blind, you don't know me. Let me confuse you.
you dont know me let me mess with you
Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to Master Jew’s?
Good young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to Master Jew's?
Sorry—which way to the Jew's house, young man? I'm still looking.
i still cant find it which way is it
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.
Turn up on your right hand at the next turning, but at the very 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.
Okay, so at the next turn, go right. But then at the turn after that, go left. Actually, wait—at the turn after that, don't turn either way. Just... go down kind of sideways to the Jew's house.
right then left then neither its that way somehow
Be God’s sonties, ’twill be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether
one Launcelet, that dwells with him, dwell with him or no?
By God's mercy, it will be a hard way to hit. Can you tell me whether one Launcelet, who dwells with him, dwells with him or no?
Lord, that's confusing. Listen, do you know if someone named Launcelet works there? The one who lives with the Jew?
that made no sense do you know launcelet works for the jew what about him
Talk you of young Master Launcelet? [_Aside._] Mark me now, now will I
raise the waters. Talk you of young Master Launcelet?
You speak of young Master Launcelet? Mark me now—now will I raise the waters. You speak of young Master Launcelet?
Young Master Launcelet? Watch this—I'm about to make you cry. Launcelet?
launcelet let me mess with you launcelet
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.
No, sir, but a poor man's son—his father, though I say it myself, is an honest, exceeding poor man. But God be thanked, we live well.
No, sir. I'm his father—I'm just a poor man, very poor. But an honest one. And thank God, we manage.
im his father poor but honest we do alright
Well, let his father be what he will, we talk of young Master
Launcelet.
But never mind his father—let's talk of young Master Launcelet.
Forget about his father. What about the young man—Launcelet?
never mind me what about launcelet
Your worship’s friend, and Launcelet, sir.
Your worship's friend, and Launcelet, sir.
Sure. Launcelet is my son.
yes lancelet
But I pray you, _ergo_, old man, _ergo_, I beseech you, talk you of
young Master Launcelet?
But I pray you, therefore, old man—therefore, I beseech you—do you speak of young Master Launcelet?
But I'm asking you—therefore—old man—do you know about young Master Launcelet?
so tell me about launcelet
Of Launcelet, an’t please your mastership.
Of Launcelet, if it pleases your mastership.
About Launcelet, if you like.
about launcelet yes
_Ergo_, Master Launcelet. Talk not of Master Launcelet, 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.
Therefore, Master Launcelet. But do not speak of Master Launcelet, father, because the young gentleman, according to the Fates and Destinies and such odd sayings—the Sisters Three and such branches of learning—is indeed deceased.
So—Master Launcelet. But don't talk about Master Launcelet, father, because according to fate and destiny and all that—the Three Fates and all—the young gentleman is dead.
so launcelet according to destiny according to fate he's dead imsorry
Marry, God forbid! The boy was the very staff of my age, my very prop.
By Mary, God forbid! The boy was the very staff of my old age, my very prop.
No! God forbid! That boy was my whole life—my support, my reason to live.
no no he was everything to me he was my whole reason to keep living
Do you know me, father?
Do you know me, father?
Do you know who I am, father?
do you know me dad
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?
Alas the day! I know you not, young gentleman. But I pray you, tell me, is my boy—God rest his soul—alive or dead?
Oh God. I don't know you, young man. But please—is my son alive? Or is he dead? Is he with God?
i dont know you please tell me is my boy alive or is he gone
Do you not know me, father?
Do you not know me, father?
Father, don't you know me?
dont you know me
Alack, sir, I am sand-blind, I know you not.
Alas, sir, I am sand-blind, I know you not.
I'm sorry, I'm partially blind. I can't see you clearly.
im blind i cant see you
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. 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.
Indeed, if you had your eyes, you might fail to know me—it is a wise father that knows his own child. Well, old man, I will tell you news of your son. Give me your blessing. Truth will come to light, murders will out. I am sure you are not Launcelet my boy.
Well, even if you could see perfectly, you might not know me—a wise father knows his own son, right? Okay, old man, let me tell you something about your son. Give me your blessing. The truth always comes out, murders will out. I promise you I'm definitely not your son Launcelet.
even with eyes you wouldnt know what father knows his own son but seriously i have news bless me truth comes out im not launcelet
Launcelet's debate between his conscience and the fiend isn't just comic padding — it's a deliberate echo of the medieval morality play tradition, where characters called 'Everyman,' 'Conscience,' and 'Vice' acted out the soul's struggle. Shakespeare's audience would have recognised the structure immediately. But where morality plays always gave Conscience the final word, Launcelet ends with the fiend winning: 'the fiend gives the more friendly counsel.' This is subversive. The scene makes the audience laugh, but also makes a point: in a world where the 'virtuous' Christian master is Antonio (who spits on people) and the 'devilish' Jew is Shylock (who has a genuine grievance), the moral categories of the morality play don't quite fit.
Pray you, sir, stand up, I am sure you are not Launcelet my boy.
Please, sir, stand up. I am sure you are not Launcelet, my boy.
Please, get up. You're definitely not my Launcelet.
get up your not him
Pray you, let’s have no more fooling about it, but give me your
blessing. I am Launcelet, your boy that was, your son that is, your
child that shall be.
I pray you, let's have no more fooling about this. Give me your blessing. I am Launcelet, your boy that was, your son that is, your child that shall be.
Come on, stop fooling around. Just bless me. I'm Launcelet—I was your boy, I am your son, I will be your child.
no more jokes bless me im your son i always was i always will be
I cannot think you are my son.
I cannot think you are my son.
I still don't believe you're my boy.
i dont believe it
I know not what I shall think of that; but I am Launcelet, the Jew’s
man, and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother.
I know not what I shall think of that. But I am Launcelet, the Jew's man, and I am sure Margery your wife is my mother.
Well, I don't know what to say to that. But I'm Launcelet—I work for the Jew. And I know your wife Margery is my mother.
im launcelet i work for the jew your wife margery shes my mother
Her name is Margery, indeed. I’ll be sworn if thou be Launcelet, 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.
Her name is Margery, indeed. I'll swear that if you are Launcelet, you are indeed my own flesh and blood. Lord be praised, what a beard you have got! You have more hair on your chin than Dobbin my horse has on his tail.
Yes, Margery is her name. By God, if you're really Launcelet, then you're definitely mine. Lord bless—what happened to your beard! You've got more whiskers than my horse Dobbin has hair on his tail.
margery yes if youre launcelet youre mine what happened to your face more hair than the horse
It should seem, then, that Dobbin’s tail grows backward. I am sure he
had more hair on his tail than I have on my face when I last saw him.
It would seem, then, that Dobbin's tail grows backward. I am sure he had more hair on his tail than I have on my face when I last saw him.
So Dobbin's tail grows backward then? Because when I last saw that horse, he had way more hair on his tail than I have on my face now.
so dobbins tail grows backward i guess he had way more hair before
Lord, how art thou changed! How dost thou and thy master agree? I have
brought him a present. How ’gree you now?
Lord, how you have changed! How do you and your master agree? I have brought him a present. How do you get along now?
My God, you've changed so much! How's it going with your master? I brought him a gift. You two getting along okay?
youve changed so much how is your master i brought him a present you two ok
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.
Well, well. But as for myself, I have decided to run away, so I will not rest until I have run some distance. My master is a very Jew. Give him a present! Give him a noose instead. I am starving in his service. You would not believe the kind of food he feeds me. I'll speak more plainly: the Jew is damned for it. I'll leave him and serve the kind Bassanio, who has been more generous to me than words can measure.
Look, I'm done talking about it. I've made up my mind—I'm leaving, and I won't stop running until I've put serious distance between us. My master is a total Jew—and a bad one. A present for him? How about a rope? I'm starving working for him. You have no idea what garbage he feeds me. I'm telling you straight: the Jew deserves to go to hell. I'm getting out of there and going to work for Bassanio instead. That guy has shown me more kindness than I can even describe.
im done im leaving shylock starves me feeds me garbage hell is where he belongs basanio is kind im going to work for him
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.
You may do so, but make sure supper is ready by five o'clock at the latest. See these letters delivered, have the liveries made, and tell Gratiano to come soon to my lodging.
Go ahead. But make sure supper's ready by five. Deliver these letters, get the uniforms made, and tell Gratiano to come to my place soon.
deliver these get the outfits made supper by five tell gratiano to come
To him, father.
To him, father.
Go talk to him, father.
go to him
God bless your worship!
God bless your worship!
God bless you, sir!
god bless you
Gramercy, wouldst thou aught with me?
Thank you. Would you have anything to ask of me?
Thanks. What can I do for you?
thank you what do you need
Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy.
Here's my son, sir—a poor boy.
This is my son, sir. He's a poor boy.
this is my son poor boy
Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew’s man, that would, sir, as my
father shall specify.
Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew's servant—that is, sir, as my father shall explain.
Not exactly a poor boy, sir—I work for the rich Jew. That is, I'm leaving to work for someone else, as my father will explain.
not poor i work for the jew well i did my father will explain
He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve.
He has a great affection, sir, you might say, to serve.
He's very eager to serve, sir—very keen to work.
he really wants to serve to work for you
Indeed the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a desire,
as my father shall specify.
In short, I serve the Jew, and I have a desire, as my father shall explain.
Basically, I work for the Jew, and I have a request—my father will tell you about it.
i work for the jew and i want something my fathers explaining
His master and he (saving your worship’s reverence) are scarce
cater-cousins.
His master and he—if I may say so—are barely even friends.
His master and him—begging your pardon—they're hardly friends at all.
they barely get along if im honest
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.
To be brief, the truth is that the Jew, having wronged me, makes it so that I—well, as my father, being an old man, shall explain to you.
Bottom line: the Jew did me wrong, which is why I'm here. My father, being older and wiser, can explain it better than I can.
the jew wronged me so im here my father can explain better
I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship, and
my suit is—
I have here a dish of doves that I would like to give to your worship, and my request is—
I brought you a present, sir—a dish of doves. And I'm here to ask—
i brought you doves and i want to ask
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.
In short, the request is not important to explain myself, as your worship shall understand from this honest old man. And though I say it—though he's old, he's still my father, and he's poor.
Actually, I don't need to explain it myself—this honest old man will tell you. Even though he's poor and getting old, he's still my father and he's good.
he'll explain hes honest hes old and poor but hes my dad
One speak for both. What would you?
One of you speak for both. What do you want?
One of you speak. What are you asking for?
just tell me what do you want
The scene between Launcelet and Old Gobbo subtly mirrors the story Shylock just told in 1-3: the story of Jacob deceiving his near-blind father Isaac to steal his brother Esau's blessing (Genesis 27). Launcelet, like Jacob, tricks his near-blind father and asks for a blessing under false pretences. Old Gobbo, like Isaac, is fooled but blesses the son anyway. Shakespeare keeps these biblical echoes close — the play is saturated with Jewish and Christian scripture, and Launcelet's comic scene is doing theological work as well as comic relief. Both Jacob and Launcelet get their blessings through trickery. Both go on to thrive in their new employers' houses.
Serve you, sir.
To serve you, sir.
To work for you, sir.
to work for you
That is the very defect of the matter, sir.
That is exactly the problem, sir.
That's the real issue, sir.
thats the problem
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.
I know you well. You have obtained your request. Shylock, your master, spoke to me today and has promoted you—if this can be called a promotion—to be in my service.
I know who you are. You've got what you want. Your master Shylock actually asked me today to take you on. So you're hired.
i know you you got the job shylock asked me to take you so done
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”.
The old saying works perfectly between my master Shylock and you, sir: you have 'God's grace,' sir, and he has 'enough.'
You know that old saying—it fits you and Shylock perfectly. You've got 'God's grace,' and he's got 'enough money.'
the saying fits you have gods grace he has enough
Thou speak’st it well. Go, father, with thy son.
Take leave of thy old master, and inquire
My lodging out. [_To a Servant._] Give him a livery
More guarded than his fellows’; see it done.
You speak well. Go, father, with your son. Leave your old master and find out where my lodging is. I'll give him a uniform and the rest.
Good point. Go on, father, take your son. Leave Shylock and find out where I'm staying. I'll give him a uniform and everything he needs.
well said go with your son find my place ill give him everything
Father, in. I cannot get a service, no! I have ne’er a tongue in my
head! [_Looking on his palm._] Well, 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; eleven 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.
Father, let's go in. I can't even speak—I'm so flustered! Look at my palm—if anyone in Italy has a fairer hand, let him swear on a book, and I'll have good fortune. These lines here mean good luck, don't they? Father, you're going to see what I can do.
Father, come on! I'm so excited I can barely talk! Look at my hand—if there's anyone in Italy with a better palm line than mine, let them swear on a Bible and I'll believe them. These lines mean fortune, right? Father, you're going to see me do great things.
im so excited look at my hand good luck lines im telling you im going to do amazing things
I pray thee, good Leonardo, think on this.
These things being bought and orderly bestow’d,
Return in haste, for I do feast tonight
My best esteem’d acquaintance; hie thee, go.
I ask you, Leonardo, pay attention to this. Once these things are bought and properly arranged, come back quickly. I'm having a feast tonight, and I want you back as soon as possible.
Leonardo, listen carefully. Once everything's bought and packed, come straight back. I'm having a party tonight and I need you here.
pay attention buy stuff pack it come back fast i have dinner tonight
My best endeavours shall be done herein.
I will do my best to get this done.
I'll do my best, sir.
ill do my best
Where’s your master?
Where's your master?
Where's Bassanio?
where is he
Yonder, sir, he walks.
Over there, sir—he's walking.
Right there, sir.
right there
Signior Bassanio!
Signior Bassanio!
Bassanio!
yo bassanio
Gratiano!
Gratiano!
Gratiano!
gratiano
I have suit to you.
I have a request for you.
I've got to ask you something.
i need something
You have obtain’d it.
You already have what you're asking for.
You've got it.
done
You must not deny me, I must go with you to Belmont.
You can't deny me—I must come with you to Belmont.
I'm coming to Belmont with you. You don't have a choice.
im going to belmont with you non negotiable
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 misconst’red in the place I go to,
And lose my hopes.
Then you must. But listen, Gratiano, I need to say something. You're too wild, too rude, too loud and bold in your speech. These things suit you well enough at home, but when we get to Belmont, Portia's a fine lady—you'll want to be more restrained. Can you do that?
Fine, you can come. But Gratiano, I need to be straight with you. You're too wild, too crude, too loud. That's funny here, but Portia is refined. She's not going to find it charming. You need to tone it down. Can you do that?
ok you can come but you gotta chill youre too wild too loud portia wont like it
Signior 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, listen to me. If I don't dress in sober clothes, speak with respect, and swear only occasionally, then judge me however you like. But I'll be as grave as a judge, as sober as a church. You'll barely recognize me.
Bassanio, listen. I'm telling you right now—I'll put on nice clothes, I'll speak properly, I'll barely swear at all. I'll be so serious you won't even recognize me. I promise.
i promise im going to be serious im going to be boring you wont recognize me
Well, we shall see your bearing.
Well, we'll see how you behave.
I guess we'll find out.
we'll see
Nay, but I bar tonight, you shall not gauge me
By what we do tonight.
But I'm saying—don't judge me by what I do tonight. You can't evaluate me based on today.
But don't judge me based on tonight. One night doesn't define me.
dont judge me on tonight thats not fair
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.
No, not at all. I want you to come out tonight in your boldest, funniest mood. We're celebrating with friends. Come as you are—wild and loud. Just don't be like that in Belmont.
No, actually, come tonight as wild and loud as you want. We're celebrating. Be yourself. Just tone it down when we get to Belmont.
actually be wild tonight be yourself just chill in belmont
And I must to Lorenzo and the rest,
But we will visit you at supper-time.
And I need to go to Lorenzo and the others now. But we'll see you at supper.
I've got to go find Lorenzo and the guys. See you at dinner.
gotta go find lorenzo see you at dinner
The Reckoning
Pure comedy between the plot's serious scenes — but Launcelet's internal debate about conscience and the devil has real resonance in a play about moral choices. His 'the fiend gives the more friendly counsel' is both funny and pointed. The scene also lets us see Bassanio in generous patron mode, which matters: he treats Launcelet and old Gobbo with warmth, which creates a positive impression just before the Belmont trip.
If this happened today…
A doorman at a famously difficult hedge fund boss's apartment building — underpaid, underappreciated, never thanked — overhears that a more chill tech billionaire is looking for staff. He's standing outside debating the pros and cons of quitting, arguing with himself, when his nearly blind father walks up asking for directions to the building. He pretends to be a stranger, tells his father he's dead, then drops the joke and asks for his dad's blessing. Then the tech billionaire actually walks by, the doorman pitches himself, and it works. His friend shows up wanting to come to the California retreat too.