SCENE II.
A 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.
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.
Why9 note? 'Twas a commandment to command
-- 11 --
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.
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?
Lucio.
In any proportion, or in any language.
1 Gent.
I think, or in any religion.
Lucio.
Ay; why not? Grace is grace, despite of all
controversy: as for example; thou thyself art a wicked
villain, despite of all grace.
1 Gent.
Well, there went but a pair of sheers between
us1 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 velvet2 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.
-- 12 -- 11Q0097
Lucio.
Behold, behold, where madam Mitigation
comes3 note!
1 Gent.
I have purchased as many diseases under her
roof, as come to—
2 Gent.
To what, I pray?
Lucio.
Judge.
2 Gent.
To three thousand dollars a-year4 note.
1 Gent.
Ay, and more.
Lucio.
A French crown more.
2 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 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.
2 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 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.
-- 13 --
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.
[Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen.
Bawd.
Thus, what with the war, what with the
sweat, what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I
am custom-shrunk. How now? what's the news with
you?
Enter Clown.
Clo.
Yonder man is carried to prison.
Bawd.
Well: what has he done?
Clo.
A woman.
Bawd.
But what's his offence?
Clo.
Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.
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 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?
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!
-- 14 --
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 Tapster5 note? Let's
withdraw.
Clo.
Here comes signior Claudio, led by the provost
to prison; and there's madam Juliet.
[Exeunt.
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
