Lucio. How now, noble Pompey? what, at the wheels of Cafar? art thou led in triumph? what, is there none of Pigmalion's images, newly made woman, to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket, and extracting it clutch'd? what reply? ha? what fay'ft thou to this tune, matter and method? It's not down i'th' laft reign. Ha? what fay'ft thou, trot? is the world as it was, man? which is the way? is it fad and few words? or how? the trick of it?

Duke. Still thus and thus; ftill worse?

Lucio. How doth my dear morfel, thy mistress? procures fhe still? ha?

Clown. Troth, Sir, fhe hath eaten up all her beef, and fhe is her self in the tub.

Lucio. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be fo. Ever your fresh whore, and your powder'd bawd; an unfhunn'd confequence, it must be fo. Art going to prifon, Pompey?

Clown. Yes, faith, Sir.

Lucio. Why, 'tis not amifs, Pompey: farewel: go,' fay, I fent thee thither for debt, Pompey; or how Elb. For being a bawd, for being a bawd.

Lucio. Well, then imprison him; if imprisonment be the due of a bawd, why, 'tis his Right. Bawd is he, doubtless, and of antiquity too; bawd born. Farewel, good Pompey: commend me to the prison,

6 Pigmalion's images, newly made woman,] i. e. come out cured from a falivation.

7 IS'T not DROWN'D i'th' laft RAIN?] This ftrange nonsense fhould be thus corrected, Ir's not DOWN i'th' laft REIGN, i.. these are severities unknown to the old Duke's time. And this is to the purpose.

8 Go, fay, I fent thee thither. For debt Pompey? or bow? ] It fhould be pointed thus, Go, fay, 1 fent thee thither for debt, Pompey; or bow, i. e. to hide the ignominy of thy cafe, fay, I fent thee to prifon for debt, or whatever other pretence thou fanciest better. The other humourous replies, For being a bad. for being a bawd, i. e. the true caufe is the most honoura. ble. This is in character.

Pompey;

Pompey; you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the house.

Clown. I hope, Sir, your good Worship will be my

bail.

Lucio. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear; I will pray, Pompey, to encrease your bondage: if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more: adieu, trufty Pompey. Blefs you, Friar.

Duke. And you.

Lucio. Does Bridget paint ftill, Pompey? ha?
Elb. Come your ways, Sir, come.

Clown. You will not bail me then, Sir?

Lucio. Then, Pompey, nor now. What news abroad,

Friar? what news?

Elb. Come your ways, Sir, come.

Lucio. Go to kennel, Pompey, go.

[Exeunt Elbow, Clown and Officers.

S CE

NE

What news, Friar, of the Duke?"

VI.

Duke. I know none: can you tell me of any?

Lucio. Some fay, he is with the Emperor of Ruffa; other Some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you?

Duke. I know not where; but wherefoever, I wish him well.

Lucio. It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from the State, and ufurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his abfence; he puts Tranfgreffion to't.

Duke. He does well in't.

Lucio. A little more lenity to leachery would do no harm in him; fomething too crabbed that way, Friar. Duke. It is too gentle a vice, and severity muft cure it.

Lucio.

9 It is too general a vice,] The occafion of the obfervation was Lucio's faying, that it ought to be treated with a little more le

nity

Lucio. Yes, in good footh, the vice is of a great kindred; it is well ally'd; but it is impoffible to extirp it quite, Friar, 'till eating and drinking be put down. They say, this Angelo was not made by man and woman after the downright way of creation; is it true, think you ?

Duke. How fhould he be made then?

Lucio. Some report, a fea-maid spawn'd him. Some, that he was got between two stock-fifhes. But it is certain, that when he makes water, his urine is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true: and he is a motion ungenerative, that's infallible.

Duke. You are pleafant, Sir, and fpeak apace.

Lucio. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a cod-piece to take away the life of a man? would the Duke, that is abfent, have done this? ere he would have hang'd a man for the getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nurfing a thousand. He had fome feeling of the fport, he knew the service, and that inftructed him to mercy.

Duke. I never heard the abfent Duke much detected for women; he was not inclin'd that way.

Lucio. Oh, Sir, you are deceiv'd.

Duke. 'Tis not poffible.

Lucio. Who, not the Duke? yes, your beggar of fifty; and his ufe was, to put a ducket in her clackdifh; the Duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too, that let me inform you.

Duke. You do him wrong, furely.

Lucio. Sir, I was an inward of his : a fhy fellow was the Duke; and, I believe, I know the caufe of his withdrawing.

nity; and his anfwer to it is, - The vice is of great kindred. Nothing can be more abfurd than all this. From the occafion, and the answer, therefore, it appears, that Shakespear wrote,

It is too GENTLE a vice,

which fignifying both indulgent and well bred, Lucie humourously takes it in the latter fenfe.

Duke.

Duke. What, pr'ythee, might be the cause?

Lucio. No: pardon: 'tis a fecret must be lockt within the teeth and the lips; but this I can let you understand, the greater file of the subject held the Duke to be wife.

Duke. Wife? why, no question, but he was.

Lucio. A very fuperficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow.

Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking: the very stream of his life, and the bufinefs he hath helmed, muft, upon a warranted Need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but teftimonied in his own bringings forth, and he fhall appear to the envious, a scholar, a statesman, and a foldier. Therefore, you speak unskilfully; or if your knowledge be more, it is much darken'd in your malice.

Lucio. Sir, I know him, and I love him.

Duke. Love talks with better knowledge, and knowledge with dearer love.

Lucio. Come, Sir, I know what I know.

Duke. I can hardly believe that, fince you know not what you speak. But if ever the duke return, as our prayers are he may, let me defire you to make your anfwer before him: if it be honeft you have fpoke, you have courage to maintain it; I am bound to call upon you, and, I pray you, your name?

Lucio. Sir, my name is Lucio, well known to the duke.

Duke. He shall know you better, Sir, if I may live to report you.

Lucio. I fear you not.

Duke. O, you hope, the duke will return no more; or you imagine me too unhurtful an oppofite; but, indeed, I can do you little harm: you'll forfwear this again?

Lucio. I'll be hang'd firft: thou art deceiv'd in me, Friar. But no more of this. Canft thou tell, if Claudio die to-morrow, or no?

Duke.

Duke. Why fhould he die, Sir?

Lucio. Why? for filling a bottle with a tun-difh: I would, the duke, we talk of, were return'd again; this ungenitur'd agent will unpeople the province with continency. Sparrows muft not build in his houseeaves, because they are leacherous. The duke yet would have dark deeds darkly answered; he would never bring them to light; would he were return'd! Marry, this Claudio is condemned for untruffing. Farewel, good Friar; I pry'thee, pray for me: the duke, I fay to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He's not paft it yet; and I fay to thee, he would mouth with a beggar, tho' fhe fmelt of brown bread and garlick: fay, that I faid fo, farewel.

Duke. No might nor greatness in mortality Can cenfure scape: back-wounding calumny The whiteft virtue ftrikes.

[Exit.

What king so strong,

Can tie the gall up in the fland'rous tongue?
But who comes here?

SCENE

VII.

Enter Escalus, Provost, Bawd, and Officers.

Efcal. Go, away with her to prifon.

Bawd. Good my lord, be good to me; your Honour is accounted a merciful man: good my lord.

Efcal. Double and treble admonition, and still forfeit in the fame kind? this would make ' mercy fwerve, and play the tyrant.

Prov. A bawd of eleven years continuance, may it please your Honour.

Bawd. My lord, this is one Lucio's information against me: miftrefs Kate Keep-down was with child by him in the duke's time; he promis'd her marriage;

1 mercy SWEAR.] We fhou'd read SWERVE, i. e. deviate from her nature. The common reading gives us the idea of a zanting whore.