SCENE III.
The Street.
Enter Lucio, and two gentlemen.
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.
Heav'n grant us its peace, but not the King
of Hungary's!
2 Gent.
Amen.
Lucio.
Thou conclud'st like the sanctimonious Pirate,
that went to sea with the ten Commandments,
but scrap'd one out of the Table.
2 Gent.
Thou shalt not steal?—
Lucio.
Ay, that he raz'd.
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 relish the petition
well that prays for Peace.
-- 270 --
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? * notein meeter?
Lucio.
In any proportion,5 note or in any language.
1 Gent.
I think, or in any religion.
Lucio.
Ay, why not? grave is grace, despight of
all controversy;6 note
as for example, thou thyself art a
wicked villain, despight of all grace.
1 Gent.
Well; there went but a pair of sheers between
us.7 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,
-- 271 --
as thou art pil'd, for a French velvet.8 note Do I speak
feelingly now?
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.
Lucio.
Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes.
1 Gent.
I have purchas'd 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.9 note
1 Gent.
Ay, and more.
Lucio.
A French crown more.1 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;
impiety hath made a feast of thee.
-- 272 --
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
