« PreviousContinue »
thee; thou art to continue now, thou varlet; thou
Escal. Where were you born, friend ? [To Froth.
[To the Clown.
Escal. Well ; no'more of it, master Froth: farewell
. (Exit Froth.]--Come you hither to me, master tapster ; what's your name, master tapster? Clo. Pompey. Escal. What else? Clo. Bum, sir. Escal. 'Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you; 'so that, in the beastilest sense, you are Pompey the great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey, howsoever you colour it in being a tapster. Are you not? come, tell me true; it shall be the better for you.
Clo. 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?
Clo. "If the latt would allow it, sir.
till do, prove a s s, Pompey, z PornpesCle. I thai la bat I sha better Tip me! I le valiant
Escal. C mesto
han in this
El). Sen Escal. I too had cc years toge
nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna.
Clo. Does your worship mean to geld and spay
Escal. No, Pompey.
Escal. There are pretty orders beginning, I can
Clo. If you head and hang all that offend that way but for ten year together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for more heads. If this law hold in Vienna ten year, I'll rent the fairest house in it, after three-pence a bay: if you live to see this come to pass, say Pompey told you so.
Escal. Thank you, good Pompey: and, in re-
Clo. I thank your worship for your good coun-
Escal. Come hither to me, master Elbow ; come
Elb. Seven years 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 choose me for them; I do it for some piece of money, 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?
Just. Eleven, sir.
Escal. It grieves me for the death of Claudio; But there's no remedy.
Just. Lord Angelo is severe.
It is but needful:
SCENE II.--Another room in the same. 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. (Exit Servant.] Pll know His pleasure ; may be, he will relent: Alas, He hath but as offended in a dream! All sects, all ages, smack of this 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 I not tell thee, yea? hadst thou not
Why dost thou ask again?
Lest I might be too rash :
Go to; let that be mine; Do you your office, or give up your place, And you shall well be spar'd. Prov.
I crave your honour's pardon.What shall be done, sir, with the groaning Juliet ? She's very near her hour. Ang.
Dispose of her To some more fitter place; and that with speed.
Re-enter Servant. Serv. Here is the sister of the man condemn'd, Desires access to you. Ang
Hath he a sister? Prov. Ay, my good lord ; a very virtuous maid, And to be shortly of a sisterhood, If not already.
Ang. Well, let her be admitted. (Ex. Serv. See the fornicatress be remov'd; Let her have needful, but not lavish, means ; There shall be order for it.
Enter Lucio and Isabella.
welcome: What's your will ?
Well; what's your suit ?
Well; the matter? Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die :
I do beseech you, let it be his fault,
Prov. Heaven 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 find the faults, whose fine stands in record, And let go by the actor." Isab.
O just, but severe law ! I had a brother then.--Heaven keep your honour!
(Retiring Lucio. (To Isab.] Give't not o'er so: to him
again, entreat him; Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown; You are too cold : if you should need a pin, You could not with more tame a tongue desire it: To him, I say. Isab. Must he needs die? Ang.
Maiden, no remedy. Isab. Yes; I do think that you might pardon him, And neither heaven, nor man, grieve at the mercy.
Ang. I will not do't.
But can you, if you would?
wrong, If so your heart were touch'd with that remorsel As mine is to him?
Ang. He's sentenc'd; 'tis too late.
Isab. Too late? why, no; I, that do speak a word,
does. If he had been as you, And you as he, you would have slipt like him ;