Gentlemen.
Luci.
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. Gen.
Heaven grant us it's peace, but not the king
of Hungary's!
2. Gen.
Amen.
Luci.
Thou conclud'st like the sanctimonious pirate,
that went to sea with the ten commandments, but
scrap'd one out of the table.
2. Gen.
Thou shalt not steal?
Luci.
Ay, that he raz'd.
1. Gen.
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, does note relish the petition
well that prays for peace.
2. Gen.
I never heard any soldier dislike it.
Luci.
I believe thee; for, I think, thou never wast
-- 7 --
where grace was said.
2. Gen.
No? a dozen times at least.
1. Gen.
What, in metre?
Luci.
In any proportion?14Q0088 or in any language?
1. Gen.
I think, or in any religion?
Luci.
Ay! why not? Grace is grace, despight of
all controversy: As for example; Thou thy self art a
wicked villain, despight of all grace.
1. Gen.
Well, there went but a pair of sheers between
us.
Luci.
I grant; as there may between the lists and
the velvet: Thou art the list.
1. Gen.
And thou the velvet: thou art good velvet;
thou'rt a three-pil'd piece, I warrant thee: I had as
lief be a list of English kersey, as be pil'd, as thou
art pil'd, for a French velvet. Do I speak feelingly
now?
Luci.
I think note 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. Gen.
I think, I have done my self wrong; have note I not?
2. Gen.
Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art tainted,
or free.
Enter Bawd, at a distance.
Luci.
Behold, behold, where madam Mitigation
comes! I have purchas'd as many diseases under her
roof, as come to—
2. Gen.
To what, I pray?
Luci.
Judge.
2. Gen.
To three thousand dolours a year.
1. Gen.
Ay, and more.
-- 8 --
Luci.
A French crown more.
1. Gen.
Thou art always figuring diseases in me:
but thou art full of error; I am sound.
Luci.
Nay, not, as one would say, healthy; but
so sound, as things that are hollow: thy bones are
hollow; impiety has made a feast of thee.
1. Gen.
How now? [to the Bawd.] Which of your
hips has the most profound sciatica? note
Bawd.
Well, well; there's one yonder arrested, and
carry'd to prison, was worth five thousand of you
all.
2. Gen.
Who's that, I pr'ythee?
Bawd.
Marry, sir, that's Claudio, signior Claudio.
1. Gen.
Claudio to prison! 'tis not so.
Bawd.
Nay, but I know 'tis so: I saw him arrested;
saw him carry'd away; and, which is more, within
these three days his head's to be chop'd off.
Luci.
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.
Luci.
Believe me, this may be: he promis'd to
meet me two hours since; and he was ever precise in
promise-keeping.
2. Gen.
Besides, you know it draws something near
to the speech we had to such a purpose.
1. Gen.
But most of all agreeing with the proclamation.
Luci.
Away; let's go learn the truth of it.
[Exeunt Lucio, and Gentlemen.
Bawd.
Thus, what with the war, what with the
sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty,
-- 9 --
Enter Clown.
I am custom-shrunk. How now? what's the news
with you?
Clow.
Yonder man is carry'd to prison.
Bawd.
Well, what has he done?
Clow.
A woman.
Bawd.
But what's his offence?
Clow.
Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.
Bawd.
What, is there a maid with child by him?
Clow.
No; but there's a woman with maid by him:
You have not heard of the proclamation, have you?
Bawd.
What proclamation, man?
Clow.
All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be
pluck'd down.
Bawd.
And what shall become of those in the city?
Clow.
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?
Clow.
To the ground, mistress.
Bawd.
Why, here's a change indeed in the commonwealth!
What shall become of me?
Clow.
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 consider'd.
Bawd.
What's to do here, Thomas tapster? note Let's withdraw.
Clow.
Here comes signior Claudio, led by the provost
to prison: and there's madam Juliet.
[Exeunt.
-- 10 --
Edward Capell [1767], Mr William Shakespeare his comedies, histories, and tragedies, set out by himself in quarto, or by the Players his Fellows in folio, and now faithfully republish'd from those Editions in ten Volumes octavo; with an introduction: Whereunto will be added, in some other Volumes, notes, critical and explanatory, and a Body of Various Readings entire (Printed by Dryden Leach, for J. and R. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S10601].
