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Pompey. Mistress Overdone.
Escal. Hath she had any more than one husband? 211
Pompey. Nine, sir; Overdone by the last. Escal. Nine! Come hither to me, Master Froth. Master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with tapsters; they will draw you, Master Froth, and you will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no more of you.
Froth. I thank your worship. For mine own part, I never come into any room iu a taphouse, but I am drawn in.
Escal. Well: no more of it, Master Froth: farewell. Exit FROTH. Come you hither to me, Master tapster. What's your name, Master tapster?
Pompey. Pompey. Escal. What else? Pompey. 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.
Pompey. 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?
Pompey. If the law would allow it sir.
Escal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey ; nor it shall not be allowed in Vienna. Pompey. Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the youth of the city?
Escal. No, Pompey.
Pompey. 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.
Pomper. If you head and hang all that offend that way but for ten year together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for more heads. If this law hold in Vienna ten year, I'll rent the fairest house in it after three-pence a bay. If you live to see this come to pass, say Pompey told you so.
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.
Pompey. I thank your worship for your good counsel; Aside; But I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall better determine.
Whip me? No, no; let carman whip his jade; The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade.
Escal. Come hither to me, Master Elbow ; come hither, Master constable. How long have you been in this place of constable?
Elb. Seven year and a half, sir.
Escal. I thought, by the readiness in the office, you had continued in it some time. You say, seven years together?
Enter LUCIO and ISABELLA.
Prov. God save your honour! Ang. Stay a little while. To ISABELLA. You're welcome what's your will? Isub. I am a woeful suitor to your honour, Please but your honour hear me.
Ang. Well; what's your suit? Isab. There is a vice that most I do abhor, 29 And most desire should meet the blow of justice, For which I would not plead, but that I must For which I must not plead, but that I am At war 'twixt will and will not.
Ang. Well; the matter? Isab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die: I do beseech you, let it be his fault, And not my brother.
Prov. Aside. Heaven give thee moving graces! Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it?
Why, every fault's condemn'd ere it be done.
Kneel down before him, hang upon his gown ;
Isab. Must he needs die ?
Maiden, no remedy. Isub. Yes; I do think that you might pardon him,
And neither heaven nor man grieve at the mercy.
But can you, if you would? Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do. Isab. But might you do't, and do the world no wrong,
If so your heart were touch'd with that remorse As mine is to him?
He's sentenc'd: 'tis too late.
May call it back again. Well, believe this,
If he had been as you, and you as he,
Isab. To-morrow! O! that's sudden. Spare him, spare him!
He's not prepar'd for death. Even for our kitchens
We kill the fowl of season: shall we serve heaven With less respect than we do minister
To our gross selves? Good, good my lord, bethink you:
Who is it that hath died for this offence? 90
Lucio. To ISABELLA.
Those many had not dar'd to do that evil,
Isab. So you must be the first that gives this sentence,
And he that suffers. O! it is excellent
Lucio. To ISABELLA. That's well said. 111
As Jove himself does, Jove would ne'er be quiet, For every pelting, petty officer
Would use his heaven for thunder; nothing but thunder.
Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt
You would have slipp'd like him; but he, like Drest in a little brief authority,
Most ignorant of what he's most assur'd,
Lucio. To ISABELLA. O! to him, to him, wench. He will relent: He's coming; I perceive 't.
Pray heaven she win him! Isab. We cannot weigh our brother with ourself: Great men may jest with saints; 'tis wit in them, But in the less foul profanation.
Lucio. To ISABELLA. Thou 'rt in the right, girl more o' that.
Isab. That in the captain's but a choleric | With saints dost bait thy hook. Most dangerous word,
Which in the soldier is flat blasphemy.
Lucio. To ISABELLA. Art avis'd o' that? more on't.
Ang. Why do you put these sayings upon me? lab. Because authority, though it err like others,
Hath yet a kind of medicine in itself,
That skins the vice o' the top. Go to your bosom;
Knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know
That's like my brother's fault: if it confess 140 A natural guiltiness such as is his,
Let it not sound a thought upon your tongue Against my brother's life.
She speaks, and 'tis Such sense, that my sense breeds with it. Fare you well.
Isab. Gentle my lord, turn back.
Ang. I will bethink me. Come again to-morrow. Isab. Hark how I'll bribe you. Good my lord, turn back.
Ang. How, bribe me?
Is that temptation that doth goad us on
SCENE III.--A Room in a Prison.
Enter DUKE, disguised as a friar, and Provost. Duke. Hail to you, provost! so I think you are. Prov. I am the provost. What's your will, good friar?
Duke. Bound by my charity and my bless'd order,
I come to visit the afflicted spirits
Prov. I would do more than that, if more were needful.
Look, here comes one: a gentlewoman of mine, Izab. Ay, with such gifts that heaven shall Who, falling in the flaws of her own youth, share with you.
Lucio. To ISABELLA. You had marr'd all else. Isab. Not with fond shekels of the tested gold,
Or stones whose rates are either rich or poor As fancy values them; but with true prayers That shall be up at heaven and enter there Ere sunrise: prayers from preserved souls, From fasting maids whose minds are dedicate To nothing temporal.
Ang. Well; come to me to-morrow. Lucio. To ISABELLA. Go to; 'tis well away! Isab. Heaven keep your honour safe! Ang. Aside. For I am that way going to temptation, Where prayers cross.
Isab At what hour to morrow Shall I attend your lordship? Aug.
At any time 'fore noon.
Isab. Save your honour!
Exeunt LUCIO, ISABELLA, and Provost. Ang. From thee; even from thy virtue! What's this? what's this? Is this her fault or
The tempter or the tempted, who sins most?
Not she, nor doth she tempt; but it is I,
Shall we desire to raze the sanctuary,
And pitch our evils there? O! fie, fie, fie.
Your partner, as I hear, must die to-morrow, And I am going with instruction to him. Grace go with you! Benedicite!
Juliet. Must die to-morrow! O! injurious love, That I desire to hear her speak again, That respites me a life, whose very comfort And feast upon her eyes? What is 't I dream on? Is still a dying horror. O cunning enemy! that, to catch a saint, Prov.
'Tis pity of him. Excunt.
SCENE IV.-A Room in ANGELO'S House.
Ang. When I would pray and think, I think and pray
To several subjects: heaven hath my empty words,
Whilst my invention, hearing not my tongue,
And in my heart the strong and swelling evil
Isab. That I do beg his life, if it be sin, Heaven let me bear it! you granting of my suit, If that be sin, I'll make it my morn prayer To have it added to the faults of mine, And nothing of your answer.
Ang. Admit no other way to save his life,As I subscribe not that, nor any other, But in the loss of question,-that you, his sister, Finding yourself desir'd of such a person, Whose credit with the judge, or own great place, Could fetch your brother from the manacles Of the all-building law; and that there were No earthly mean to save him, but that either You must lay down the treasures of your body To this suppos'd, or else to let him suffer; What would you do?
Isab. As much for my poor brother as myself:
Better it were a brother died at once,
Should die for ever.
Ang. You seem'd of late to make the law a
And rather prov'd the sliding of your brother
Isab. O pardon me, my lord, it oft falls out,
Isab. To whom should I complain? Did I tell
Who would believe me? O perilous mouths!
I something do excuse the thing I hate,
If not a feodary, but only he
Ang. Nay, women are frail too.
Isab. Ay, as the glasses where they view them-
Which are as easy broke as they make forms.
I think it well;
Isab. I have no tongue but one: gentle my
Let me entreat you speak the former language.
Ang. He shall not, Isabel, if you give me love.
Believe me, on mine honour, My words express my purpose.
Isab. Ha! little honour to be much believ'd, 150 And most pernicious purpose! Seeming, seeming!
I will proclaim thee, Angelo; look for 't:
Or with an outstretch'd throat I'll tell the world
What man thou art.
On twenty bloody blocks, he'd yield them up,
If I do lose thee, I do lose a thing
For all the accommodations that thou bear'st
For thou dost fear the soft and tender fork
For thou exist'st on many a thousand grains
For thy complexion shifts to strange effects,
Do curse the gout, serpigo, and the rheum,
But, as it were, an after-dinner's sleep,
Of palsied eld; and when thou art old and rich,