very prop.

_Lau_. Do I look like a cudgel, or a hovel-post, a staff, or a prop?--Do
you know me, father?

_Gob_. Alack the day, I know you not, young gentleman; but, I pray you
tell me, is my boy (rest his soul!) alive or dead?

_Lau_. Do you not know me, father?

_Gob_. Alack! sir, I am sand-blind, I know you not.

_Lau_. 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: _(kneels.)_ Truth will
come to light; murder cannot be hid long; a man's son may; but, in the
end, truth will out.

_Gob_. Pray you, sir, stand up: I am sure you are not Launcelot, my boy.

_Lau_. Pray you, let's have no more fooling about it, but give me your
blessing; I am Launcelot, your boy that was, your son that is, your
child that shall be,

_Gob_. I cannot think you are my son.

_Lau_. I know not what I shall think of that; but I am Launcelot, the
Jew's man; and I am sure Margery, your wife, is my mother.

_Gob_. Her name is Margery, indeed: I'll be sworn if thou be Launcelot,