Lucio.

If the duke, with the other dukes, come not to composition with the king of Hungary, why, then all the dukes fall upon the king.

1 Gent.

Heaven grant us its peace, but not the king of Hungary's!

2 Gent.

Amen.

Lucio.

Thou concludest like the sanctimonious

pirate, that went to sea with the ten commandments, but scraped one out of the table.

2 Gent.

Thou shalt not steal?

Lucio.

Ay, that he razed.

1 Gent.

Why? 'Twas a commandment to command the captain and all the rest from their functions; they put forth to steal: There's not a soldier of us all, that, in the thanksgiving before meat, doth* ^note relish the petition well that prays for peace.

2 Gent.

I never heard any soldier dislike it.

Lucio.

I believe thee; for, I think, thou never wast where grace was said.

2 Gent.

No? a dozen times at least.

1 Gent.

What? in metre^{6 note}?

Lucio.

In any proportion^{7 note}

1 Gent.

I think, or in any religion.

Lucio.

Ay! why not? Grace is grace, despite of all controversy^{8 note}

1 Gent.

Well, there went but a pair of sheers between us^{9 note}

Lucio.

I grant; as there may between the lists and the velvet: Thou art the list.

1 Gent.

And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet: thou art a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee: I had as lief be a list of an English kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet^{1 note}

Lucio.

I think thou dost; and, indeed, with most painful feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine own confession, learn to begin thy health; but, whilst I live, forget to drink after thee.

1 Gent.

I think, I have done myself wrong: have I not?

2 Gent.

Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art tainted, or free.

1 Gent.

Behold, behold, where madam Mitigation comes^{9 note}! I have purchased as many diseases under her roof, as come to—

2 Gent.

To what, I pray?

1 Gent.

Judge.

2 Gent.

To three thousand dollars a-year^{1 note}

1 Gent.

Ay, and more.

Lucio.

A French crown more^{2 note}

1 Gent.

Thou art always figuring diseases in me: but thou art full of error; I am sound.

Lucio.

Nay, not as one would say, healthy; but so sound, as things that are hollow: thy bones are hollow^{3 note}

; impiety has made a feast of thee.

Enter Bawd.

1 Gent.

How now? Which of your hips has the most profound sciatica?

Bawd.

Well, well; there's one yonder arrested, and carried to prison, was worth five thousand of you all.

1 Gent.

Who's that, I pray thee?

Bawd.

Marry, sir, that's Claudio, signior Claudio.

1 Gent.

Claudio to prison! 'tis not so.

Bawd.

Nay, but I know, 'tis so: I saw him arrested; saw him carried away: and, which is more, within these three days his head's to be chopped off.

Lucio.

But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so: Art thou sure of this?

Bawd.

I am too sure of it: and it is for getting madam Julietta with child.

Lucio.

Believe me, this may be: he promised to meet me two hours since; and he was ever precise in promise-keeping.

2 Gent.

Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose.

1 Gent.

But most of all, agreeing with the proclamation.

Lucio.

Away; let's go learn the truth of it.

Bawd.

Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat^{4 note}

I am custom-shrunk. How now? what's the news with you?

Clo.

Yonder man is carried to prison.

Bawd.

Well; what has he done?

Clo.

A woman^{5 note}

Bawd.

But what's his offence?

Clo.

Groping for trouts in a peculiar river^{6 note}.

Bawd.

What, is there a maid with child by him?

Clo.

No; but there's a woman with maid by him: You have not heard of the proclamation, have you?

Bawd.

What proclamation, man?

Clo.

All houses in the suburbs^{7 note} of Vienna must be pluck'd down.

Bawd.

And what shall become of those in the city?

Clo.

They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them.

Bawd.

But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pull'd down^{8 note}

Clo.

To the ground, mistress.

Bawd.

Why, here's a change, indeed, in the commonwealth! What shall become of me?

Clo.

Come; fear not you: good counsellors lack no clients: though you change your place, you need not change your trade; I'll be your tapster still. Courage; there will be pity taken on you: you that have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you will be considered.

Bawd.

What's to do here, Thomas Tapster^{9 note}

Clo.

Here comes signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison: and there's madam Juliet.