Officers.
Elb.
Come, bring them away; if these be good
people in a common-weal, that do nothing but use
their abuses in common houses, I know no law; bring
them away.
Ang.
How now, Sir, what's your name? and what's
the matter?
Elb.
If it please your Honour, I am the poor Duke's
constable, and my name is Elbow; I do lean upon
justice, Sir, and do bring in here before your good
Honour two notorious benefactors?
Ang.
Benefactors? well; what benefactors are they?
are they not malefactors?
Elb.
If it please your Honour, I know not well
what they are; but precise villains they are, that I am
sure of; and void of all profanation in the world, that
good christians ought to have.
Escal.
* noteThis comes off well; here's a wise officer.
Ang.
Go to: what quality are they of? Elbow is
your name? why dost thou not speak, Elbow?
Clown.
He cannot, Sir; he's out at elbow.
-- 286 --
Ang.
What are you, Sir?
Elb.
He, Sir? a tapster, Sir; parcel-bawd; one
that serves a bad woman; whose house, Sir, was, as
they say, pluckt down in the suburbs; and now she
professes a hot-house;9 note
which, I think, is a very ill
house too.
Escal.
How know you that?
Elb.
My wife, Sir, whom I detest before heav'n
and your Honour,—
Escal.
How! thy wife?
Elb.
Ay, Sir; whom, I thank heav'n, is an honest
woman;—
Escal.
Dost thou detest her therefore?
Elb.
I say, Sir, I will detest myself also, as well as
she, that this house, if it be not a bawd's house, it is
pity of her life, for it is a naughty house.
Escal.
How dost thou know that, constable?
Elb.
Marry, Sir, by my wife; who, if she had
been a woman cardinally given, might have been accused
in fornication, adultery, and all uncleanness there.
Escal.
By the woman's means?
Elb.
Ay, Sir, by mistress Over-done's means,* note but
as she spit in his face, so she defy'd him.
Clown.
Sir, if it please your Honour, this is not so.
Elb.
Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable
man, prove it.
Escal.
Do you hear how he misplaces?
Clown.
Sir, she came in great with child; and longing
(saving your Honour's reverence) for stew'd prunes;
-- 287 --
Sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very
distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a dish
of some three pence; your Honours have seen such
dishes; they are not China dishes, but very good
dishes.
Escal.
Go to, go to; no matter for the dish, Sir.
Clown.
No, indeed, Sir, not of a pin; you are
therein in the right. But to the point; as I say, this
mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being
great belly'd, and longing, as I said, for prunes; and
having but two in the dish, as I said; master Froth
here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said,
and, as I say, paying for them very honestly; for, as
you know, master Froth, I could not give you three
pence again.
Froth.
No, indeed.
Clown.
Very well; you being then, if you be remembred,
cracking the stones of the foresaid prunes.
Froth.
Ay, so I did, indeed.
Clown.
Why, very well; I telling you then, if you
be remembred, that such a one, and such a one, were
past cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept
very good diet, as I told you.
Froth.
All this is true.
Clown.
Why, very well then.
Escal.
Come, you are a tedious fool; to the purpose.
—What was done to Elbow's wife, that he hath
cause to complain of? come to what was done to her.
Clown.
Sir, your Honour cannot come to that yet.
Escal.
No, Sir, nor I mean it not.
Clown.
Sir, but you shall come to it, by your Honour's
leave: and, I beseech you, look into master
Froth here, Sir, a man of fourscore pound a year;
whose father dy'd at Hallowmas. Was't not at Hallowmas,
master Froth?
Froth.
All-holland eve.
Clown.
Why, very well; I hope here be truths.
He, Sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, Sir; 'twas
-- 288 --
in the bunch of grapes, where, indeed, you have a delight
to sit, have you not?
Froth.
I have so, because it is an open room, and
good for winter.
Clown.
Why, very well then.—I hope, here be truths.
Ang.
This will last out a night in Russia,
When nights are longest there. I'll take my leave,
And leave you to the hearing of the cause;
Hoping, you'll find good cause to whip them all.
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].