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Escal. Which is the wiser here; Justice or Iniquity? Is this true ?

Elb. O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wicked a Hannibal! I respected with her, before I was marry'd to her? If ever I was respected with her, or she with me,

let not your worship think me the

poor

Duke's officer; prove this, thou wicked a Hannibal, or I'll have mine action of battery on thee.

Escal. If he took you a box o'th' ear, you might have your action of Nander too.

Elb. Marry, I thank your good worship for it: what is't your woship's pleasure I shall do with this wicked caitiff?

Escal. Truly, officer, because he hath some offences in him, that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him continue in his courses, 'till thou know'st what they are.

Elb. Marry, I thank your worship for it; thou feelt, thou wicked varlet now, what's come upon thee. Thou art to continue now, thou varlet ; thou art to continue.

Escal. Where were you born, friend? [To Froth,
Froth. Here in Vienna, Sir.
Escal. Are you of fourscore pounds a year?
Froth. Yes, an't please you, Sir.
Escal. So. What trade are you of, Sir? [To the Clown,
Clown. A tapster, a poor widow's tapster,
Escal. Your mistress's name?
Clown. Mrs. Over-don.
Escal. Hath she had any more than one husband?
Clown. Nine, Sir: Over-don by the last.

Escal. Nine? Come hither to me, master Frotb: master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with tapsters ; they will draw you, master Froth, and you will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no more of you.

Froth. I thank your worship; for mine own part, I never come into any room in a taphouse, but I am drawn in. Escal. Well; no more of it, master Froth; farewel.

[Exit Froth.

SCENE (a) He means to say Animal,

S CE N E IV. Come you hither to 'me, ntafter tapster; what's your name, master tapster ?

Clown. Pompey.
Escal. What else?
Clown. Bum, Sir.

Efcal. Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you, so that, in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey; howsofoever you colour it in being a tapster ; are you not? come, tell me true, it shall be the better for you.

Clown. Truly, Sir, I am a poor fellow that would live.

Escal. How would you live, Pompey? by being a bawd? what do you think of the trade, Pompey? is it a lawful trade?

Clown. If the law will allow it, Sir,

Escal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey, and it shall not be allowed in Vienna,

Clown. Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the youth in the city?

Escal. No, Pompey.

Clown. Truly, Sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then. If your worship will take order for the drabs and knaves, you need not to fear the bawds.

Escal. There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you: it is but heading and hanging. Clown. If you head and hang all that offend that

way but for ten years together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for more heads: If this law hold in Vienna ten years, I'll rent the fairest house in it after three pence a bay: if you live to see this come to pass, fay Pompey told

Escal. Thank you, good Pompey; and in requital of your prophecy, hark you, I advise you let me not find you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever ; no, not for dwelling where you do: if I do, Pompey, I shall

beat

you so.

beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd Cæfar to you : in plain dealing, Pompey, I shall have you whipt: só for this time, Pompey, fare you well.

Clown. I thank your worship for your good counsel ; but I shall follow it, as the flesh and fortune shall better determine. Whip me? no, no; let carman whip his jade; The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade.

[Exit. S C Ε Ν Ε V. Escal. Come hither to me, master Elbow ; come hither, master constable; how long have you been in this place of constable ?

Elb. Seven year and a half, Sir.

Escal. I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had continued in it some time: you say seven years together?

Elb. And a half, Sir.

Escal. Alas! it hath been great pains to you; they do you wrong to put you so oft upon't: are there not men in your ward sufficient to serve it

Elb. 'Faith, Sir, few of any wit in such matters ; as they are chosen they are glad to chuse me for them. I do it for some piece of mony, and go through with all.

Escal. Look you, bring me in the names of some six or seven, the most sufficient of your parish.

Elb. To your worship’s house, Sir ?

Escal. To my house; fare you well. What's a clock, think you?

(Exit Elbow. Just. Eleven, Sir. Escal. I pray you, go home to dinner with me. Juft. I humbly thank you.

Escal. It grieves me for the death of Claudio: But there's no remedy.

Just. Lord Angelo is fevere.

Escal. It is but needful :
Mercy is not it self, that oft looks fo;

Pardon

Pardon is still the nurse of second woe:
But yet poor Claudio! there's no remedy.
Come, Sir.

[Exeunt.

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Enter Provost, and a Servant.
Serv. He's hearing of a Cause; he will come straight:
I'll tell him of you.

Prov. Pray you, do; I'll know
His pleasure; may be he'll relent; alas!
He hath but as offended in a dream:
All sects, all ages smack : lo'th' vice;' and he
To die for it!

Enter Angelo
Ang. Now, what's the matter, Provost?
Prov. Is it your will Claudio shall die to-morrow?

Ang. Did not I tell thee yea? hadst thou not order 9 (Why ask again?"

Prov. Left I might be too rash.
Under your good correction, I have seen
When after execution judgment hath
Repented o'er his doom.

Ang. ''Let that be mine;'
Do you your office, or give up your place,
And
you

shall well be spar'd.
Prov. I crave your pardon.
What shall be done, Sir, with the groaning Juliet ?
She's very near her hour.

Ang. Dispose of her
To some more fitting place, and that with speed.

Serv. Here is the lister of the man condemn'd,
Desires access to you.

Ang. Hath he a sister?
Prov. Ay, my good lord, a very virtuous maid,
Vol. I.
Y

And 8 of this vice;

9 Why doft thou ask again? i Go to; let that be mine;

And to be shortly of a fifter-hood,
If not already.
Ang. Let her be admitted.

[Exit Servant.
See you the fornicatress be remov'd;
Let her have need ful, but not lavish means;
There shall be order for it.

S CE N E VII.

Enter Lucio and Isabella. Prov. 'Save your honour ! Ang. Stay yet a while. Y’are welcome; what's your will ?

Isab. I am a woful fuitor to your honour, Please but your honour hear me,

Ang. What's your suit?

Isab. There is a vice that most I do abhor,
And most desire should meet the blow of justice,
For which I would not plead, but that I must;
2 'For which I must plead, albeit I am!
At war 'twixt will, and will not.

Ang. Well; the matter?

Isab. I have a brother is condemn’d?!to-day ;'
I do beseech you, let it be his fault,
And not my brother.

Prov. Heav'n give thee moving graces !

Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?
Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done;
Mine were the very cipher of a function
To fine the faults, whofe fine stands in record,
And let go by the actor.

Isab. O just, but severe law!
I had a brother then ; --- heav'n keep your honour!

Lucio. Give't not o'er fo: to him again, intreat him,
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown;
You are too cold; if you should need a pin,
You could not with a more tame tongue desire it.
To him, I say.

Ifab. 2 For which I muß not plead, but that I am

3 to die;

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