Question

explain the line wear prayer books in my pocket ​

Answer 1

Answer:

Certainly, my conscience will allow me to run from this Jew my master. The devil is at my elbow and tempts me, saying to me, “Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot” or “good Gobbo” or “good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, get going, run away.” My conscience says, “No; be careful, honest Launcelot, be careful, honest Gobbo” or, as I said before, “honest Launcelot Gobbo, don’t run; scorn running with your heels.” Well, the most courageous devil tells me to pack. “Go!” says the devil; “Away!” says the devil. “For heaven’s sake, wake up a brave mind,” says the devil ’and run.” Well, my conscience, hanging, about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, “My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man’s son”—or rather “an honest woman’s son;”—because indeed my father experienced some things, earned some things, he had a kind of taste;—well, my conscience says, “Launcelot, don’t budge.” “Budge,” says the devil. “Don’t budge,” says my conscience.” Conscience, “I say, you advise me well.” “Devil,” I say, “you advise me well.” To be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who, God save us all! is a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should listen to the devil, who, deliver us from evil! is the devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnate; and, in my conscience, my conscience is only a kind of hard conscience, to offer to advise me to stay with the Jew. The devil gives the more friendly advice: I’ll run, devil; my heels are at your commandment; I will run.

Certainly, my conscience will allow me to run from this Jew my master. The devil is at my elbow and tempts me, saying to me, “Gobbo, Launcelot Gobbo, good Launcelot” or “good Gobbo” or “good Launcelot Gobbo, use your legs, get going, run away.” My conscience says, “No; be careful, honest Launcelot, be careful, honest Gobbo” or, as I said before, “honest Launcelot Gobbo, don’t run; scorn running with your heels.” Well, the most courageous devil tells me to pack. “Go!” says the devil; “Away!” says the devil. “For heaven’s sake, wake up a brave mind,” says the devil ’and run.” Well, my conscience, hanging, about the neck of my heart, says very wisely to me, “My honest friend Launcelot, being an honest man’s son”—or rather “an honest woman’s son;”—because indeed my father experienced some things, earned some things, he had a kind of taste;—well, my conscience says, “Launcelot, don’t budge.” “Budge,” says the devil. “Don’t budge,” says my conscience.” Conscience, “I say, you advise me well.” “Devil,” I say, “you advise me well.” To be ruled by my conscience, I should stay with the Jew my master, who, God save us all! is a kind of devil; and, to run away from the Jew, I should listen to the devil, who, deliver us from evil! is the devil himself. Certainly, the Jew is the very devil incarnate; and, in my conscience, my conscience is only a kind of hard conscience, to offer to advise me to stay with the Jew. The devil gives the more friendly advice: I’ll run, devil; my heels are at your commandment; I will run.Enter old Gobbo with a basket.