SCENE IV. Changes to the street. Re-enter Duke, as a Friar, Elbow, Clown, and officers. Elb. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needs buy and fell men and women like beafts, we fhall have all the world drink brown and white bastard, Duke. Oh, heav'ns! what stuff is here? Clown. 'Twas never merry world since of two ufuries the merrieft was put down, and the worfer allow'd by order of law. *** a furr'd gown to keep him warm, and furr'd with fox and lamb-skins too, to fignify, that craft, being richer than innocency, ftands for the facing. Elb. Come your way, Sir: blefs you, good father Friar. Duke. And you, good brother father. What offence hath this man made you, Sir. Elb. Marry, Sir, he hath offended the law; and, Sir, we take him to be a thief too, Sir; for we have found upon him, Sir, a strange pick-lock, which we have sent to the Deputy. Duke. Fie, Sirrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd! That is thy means to live. Doft thou but think, Clown. Indeed, it doth ftink in fome fort, Sir; but yet, Sir, I would prove Duke. Nay, if the devil have giv'n thee proofs for fin, Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prifon, officer; Correction and inftruction muft both work, Ere this rude beaft will profit. Elb. He muft before the Deputy, Sir; he has given him warning; the Deputy cannot abide a whore-mafter; if he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand. Duke. Duke. That we were all, as fome would seem to be, Free from all faults, as faults from seeming free! SCENE V. Enter Lucio. Elb. His neck will come to your waste, a cord, Sir. Clown. I fpy comfort: I cry, bail: here's a gentleman, and a friend of mine. Lucio. How now, noble Pompey? What, at the wheels of Cæfar? art thou led in triumph? What, is there none of Pigmalion's images, newly made woman, to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket, and extracting it clutch'd? What reply? ha? what fay' thou to this tune, matter and method? It's not down i' th' laft reign. Ha? what fay'ft thou, trot? is the world as it was, man? which is the way? is it fad and few words? or how? the trick of it? Duke. Still thus and thus: ftill worfe? Lucio. How doth my dear morfel, thy mistress? pro cures fhe ftill? ha? Clown. Troth, Sir, fhe hath eaten up all her beef, and fhe is herself in the tub. Lucio. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be fo. Ever your fresh whore, and your powder'd bawd; an unfhunn'd confequence, it must be fo.. Art going to prifon, Pompey? Clown. Yes, faith, Sir. Lucio. Why, 'tis not amifs, Pompey: farewell: go, fay, I fent thee thither for debt, Pompey; or howElb. For being a bawd, for being a bawd. Lucio, Well, then imprison him; if imprisonment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his right. Bawd is he doubtlefs, and of antiquity too; bawd born. Farewell, good Pompey: commend me to the prifon, Pompey; you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the houfe. Clown. I hope, Sir, your good Worship will be my bail. Lucio. No, indeed, will L not, Pompey; it is not the wear; I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage: if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu, trufty Pompey. Blefs you, Friar. Duke. And you. Lucio. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey? ha? Elb. Come your ways, Sir, come, Clown. You will not bail me then, Sir? Lucio. Then, Pompey, nor now. Friar? what news? Elb. Come your ways, Sir, come. Lucio. Go to kennel, Pompey, go. What news abroad, [Exeunt Elbow, Clown, and officers. SCENE VI. What news, Friar, of the Duke? Duke. I know none: can you tell me of any? Lucio Some fay, he is with the Emperor of Ruffia; other fome, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you? Duke. I know not where; but wherefoever, I with him well. Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him, to steal from the state, and ufurp the beggary he was never born Lord Angelo dukes it well in his abfence; he puts tranfgreffion to't. Duke. He does well in't. Lucio. A little more lenity to leachery would no harm in him; fomething too crabbed that way, Friar. it. Duke. It is too gentle a vice, and feverity muft cure Lucia. Yes, in good footh, the vice is of a great kin dred; it is well alli'd; but it is impoffible to extirp it quite, Friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They fay this Angelo was not made by man and woman after the downright way of creation; is it true, think you? Duke. How fhould he be made then? Laucio. Some report, a fea maid fpawn'd him; fome, that he was got between two ftock-fifles. But it is cer tain, that when he makes water, his urine is congeal'd ice: that I know to be true; and he is a motion ungenerative, that's infallible. Duke. You are pleafant, Sir, and fpeak apace. Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a cod-piece to take away the life of a man? Would the Duke, that is abfent, have done this? Ere he would have hang'd a man for the getting a hundred baflards, he would have paid for the nurfing a thoufand. He had fome feeling of the sport, he knew the fervice, and that inftructed him to mercy. Duke. I never heard the absent Duke much detected for women; he was not inclin'd that way. Lucio. Oh, Sir, you are deceiv'd. Duke. 'Tis not poffible. Lucio. Who, not the Duke? Yes, your beggar of fifty; and his ufe was, to put a ducket in her clack-dish; the Duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too, that let me inform you. Duke. You do him wrong, furely. Lucio. Sir, I was an inward of his: a fhy fellow was the Duke; and, I believe, I know the caufe of his with drawing. Duke. What, pry'thee, might be the cause? Lucio. No; pardon: 'tis a fecret must be lock'd within the teeth and the lips: but this I can let -unyou derstand, the greater file of the subject held the Duke to be wife. Duke. Wife? why, no queftion but he was. Lucio. A very fuperficial, ignorant, unweighing fel low. Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking. The very stream of his life, and the bufinefs he hath helmed, must, upon a warranted need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but teftimonied in his own bringings forth, and he fhall appear to the envious, a scholar, a ftatefman, and a foldier. Therefore you speak uns fkilfully or, if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened in your malice. Lucio. Sir, I know him, and I love him. Duke. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer love. Lucio. Come, Sir, I know what I know. Duke. I can hardly believe that, fince you know not what you speak, But if ever the Duke return, as our prayers are he may, let me defne you to make your an fwer fwer before him. If it be honeft you have spoke, you have courage to maintain it. I am bound to call upon you; and, pray you, your name? Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the Duke. Duke. He fhall know you better, Sir, if I may live to report you. Lucio. I fear you not. Duke. O, you hope the Duke will return no more, or you imagine me too unhurtful an oppofite. But indeed I can do you little harm: you'll forfwear this again? Lucio. I'll be hang'd first: thou art deceiv'd in me Friar. But no more of this. Canft thou tell, if Claudio die to-morrow, or no? Duke. Why fhould he die, Sir? Lucio. Why? for filling a bottle with a tun-difh. I would the Duke we talk of were returned again; this ungenitur'd agent will unpeople the province with continency. Sparrows must not build in his houfe-eaves, because they are leacherous. The Duke yet would have dark deeds darkly anfwered; he would never bring them to light; would he were returned! Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untruffing. Farewell, good Friar; I pry'thee pray for me. The Duke, I fay to thee Friar again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He's not paft it yet; and I fay to thee, he would mouth with a beggar, tho' fhe fmelt of brown bread and garlic. Say, that I faid fo; farewell. Duke. No might nor greatnefs in mortality But who comes here? SCENE VII. Enter Efcalus, Provost, Bawd, and officers. Efcal. Go, away with her to prison. [Exit. Bawd. Good my Lord, be good to me; your Honour is accounted a merciful man: good my Lord. Efcal. Double and treble admonition, and ftill for |