No More Learning

Master young man, you, I pray you, which is the way to
master Jew's?
LAUNCELOT. [Aside] O heavens! This is my true-begotten father,
who, being more than sand-blind, high-gravel blind, knows me not.
I will try confusions with him.
GOBBO. Master young gentleman, I pray you, which is the way to
master Jew's?
LAUNCELOT. 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.
GOBBO. Be God's sonties, 'twill be a hard way to hit! Can you tell
me whether one Launcelot, that dwells with him, dwell with him or
no?
LAUNCELOT. Talk you of young Master Launcelot? [Aside] Mark me
now; now will I raise the waters.
- Talk you of young Master
Launcelot?
GOBBO. 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.
LAUNCELOT. Well, let his father be what 'a will, we talk of young
Master Launcelot.
GOBBO. Your worship's friend, and Launcelot, sir.
LAUNCELOT. But I pray you, ergo, old man, ergo, I beseech you, talk
you of young Master Launcelot?
GOBBO. Of Launcelot, an't please your mastership.
LAUNCELOT. Ergo, Master Launcelot. Talk not of Master Launcelot,
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.
GOBBO. Marry, God forbid!