LAUNCELET.
To him, father.
GOBBO.
God bless your worship!
BASSANIO.
Gramercy, wouldst thou aught with me?
GOBBO.
Here’s my son, sir, a poor boy.
LAUNCELET.
Not a poor boy, sir, but the rich Jew’s man, that would, sir, as my father shall specify.
GOBBO.
He hath a great infection, sir, as one would say, to serve.
LAUNCELET.
Indeed the short and the long is, I serve the Jew, and have a desire, as my father shall specify.
GOBBO.
His master and he (saving your worship’s reverence) are scarce cater-cousins.
LAUNCELET.
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.
GOBBO.
I have here a dish of doves that I would bestow upon your worship, and my suit is—