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Elb. He must before the deputy, fir; he has given him warning; the deputy cannot abide a whore-master: if he be a whore-monger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.

Duke. That we were all, as fome would feem to be, Free from all faults, as from faults feeming free!


Enter Lucio.

Elb. His neck will come to your waift, a cord, fir. 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 Cafar? art thou led in triumph? what, is there none of Pygmalion'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 say'st thou to this tune, the matter, and the method? is't not drown'd i' th' last rain? ha? what fay'st 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? procures she ftill? ha?

Clown. Troth, fir, she hath eaten up all the beef, and she 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 unshunn'd confequence; it must be fo. Art going to prison, Pompey? Clown. Yes, 'faith, fir.

Lucio. Why, 'tis not amifs, Pompey: farewel: go, fay, I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how?

Elb. 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, doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd born. Farewel, good Pompey: commend

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me to the prison, Pompey; you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the houfe.

Clown. I hope, fir, your good worship will be my bail.

Lucio. No, indeed will I 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 ftill, Pompey? ha?

Elb. Come your ways, fir, come.

Clown. You will not bail me then, fir?

Lucio. Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad, friar? what news?

Elb. Come your ways, fir, come.

Lucio. Go to kennel, Pompey, go:

[Exeunt Elbow Clown and Officers.


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 Russia; other some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you?

Duke. I know not where; but wherefoever, I wish him well. Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him to fteal from the ftate, and ufurp the beggary he was never born to. 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 lechery would do no harm in him; fomething too crabbed that way, friar.

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Duke. It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it. Lucio. Yes, in good footh, the vice is of great kindred; well ally'd; and 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?

Lucio. Some report, a fea-maid spawn'd him. Some, that he was begot between two ftock-fifhes. But it is certain, that, when he makes water, his urine is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true: and he has no motion generative; that's infallible.

Duke. You are pleafant, fir, 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 absent have done this? ere he would have hang'd a man for the getting a hundred bastards, he would have pay'd for the nurfing a thousand. He had fome feeling of the fport; he knew the fervice, and that inftructed him to mercy.

Duke. I never heard the abfent duke much detected for women; he was not inclin'd that way.

Lucio. O, fir, you are deceiv'd.

Duke. 'Tis not poffible.

Lucio. Who, not the duke? yes, your beggar of fifty; and his use was, to put a ducat in her clack-difh; 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 fly fellow was the duke; and, I believe, I know the cause of his withdrawing.

Duke. What, pr'ythee, 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 you understand, the greater file of the subject held the duke to be wise.

Duke. Wife? why, no queftion but he was.

Lucio. A very fuperficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow. Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking: the very ftream of his life, and the bufinefs he hath helmed, muft, upon a warranted need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but testimony'd in his own bringings forth, and he shall appear to the envious, a scholar, a statesman, and a foldier. Therefore, you fpeak unskilfully; or if your knowledge be more, it is much darken'd 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, fir, 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 defire you to make your anfwer before him: if it be honest you have spoke, you have courage to maintain it; I am bound to call upon you, and, I pray you, your name?

Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the duke. Duke. He shall know you better, fir, if I may live to report


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 a little harm: you'll forfwear this again?

Lucio. I'll be hang'd firft: 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, fir?

Lucio. Why? for filling a bottle with a tun-dish: I would, the duke we talk of were return'd again; this ungenitur'd agent will unpeople the province with continency. Sparrows muft not build in his house-eaves, because they are lecherous. The duke yet would have dark deeds darkly anfwer'd; he would never bring them to light; would, he were return'd! marry, this Claudio is condemned for untruffing. Farewel, good friar; I pr'ythee, pray for me: the duke, I fay to thee again, would eat mutton on fridays. He's not pafs'd it yet; and, I fay to thee, he would mouth with a beggar, though fhe smelt of brown bread and garlick: fay, that I fay fo: farewel. Exit.

Duke. No might nor greatness in mortality Can cenfure 'scape: back-wounding calumny The whiteft virtue ftrikes. What king fo ftrong Can tie the gall up in the fland'rous tongue? But who comes here?


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Enter Escalus, Provoft, Bawd, and Officers.

Efcal. Go, away with her to prison.

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 forfeit in the fame kind? this would make mercy fwerve, and play the tyrant.

Prov. A bawd of eleven years continuance, may it please your honour.

Bawd. My lord, this is one Lucio's information against me: mistress Kate Keep-down was with child by him in the duke's time; he promis'd her marriage: his child is a year and a quarter old, come Philip and Jacob: I have kept it myself; and fee how he goes about to abuse me.

Efcal. That fellow is a fellow of much licence; let him be call'd before us. Away with her to prison: go to; no more words. [Exeunt with the bawd.] Provoft, my brother Angelo will not be alter'd; Claudio muft die to-morrow: let him be furnish'd with divines, and have all charitable preparation. If my brother wrought by my pity, it should not be fo with him.

Prov. So please you, this friar hath been with him, and advis'd

him for the entertainment of death.

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Efcal. Good even, good father!

Duke. Bliss and goodness on you!

Efcal. Of whence are you?

Duke. Not of this country, though my chance is now

To use it for my time: I am a brother

Of gracious order, late come from the fee,

In fpecial business from his holiness.

Efcal. What news abroad i' th' world?

Ďuke. None, but that there is fo great a fever on goodness, that the diffolution of it must cure it. Novelty is only in request; and it is as dangerous to be aged in any kind of course, as it is virtuous to be constant in any undertaking. There is scarce truth enough

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