Come you hither to me, master tapster; what's your name, master tapster?

Clown.

Pompey.

Escal.

What else?

Clown.

Bum, Sir.

Escal.

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; howsoever 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; nor 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 the 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:^{4 note}

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 to your tent, and prove a shrewd Cæsar to you: in plain dealing, Pompey, I

shall have you whipt. So for this time, Pompey, fare you well.

Clown.

I thank your worship for your good counsel. [aside] But I shall follow it, as the flesh and fortune shall better determine.