Efcal. If he took you a box o'th' ear, you might have your action of flander too. Elb. Marry, I thank your good worship for't: what is't your worship's pleasure I fhall do with this wicked caitiff? Efcal. Truly, officer, becaufe he hath fome offences in him, that thou wouldst difcover if thou couldft, let him continue in his courses, 'till thou know'ft what they are. Elb. Marry, I thank your worship for it; thou seest, thou wicked varlet now, what's come upon thee. Thou art to continue now, thou varlet; thou art to continue. Efcal. Where were you born, friend? Froth. Here in Vienna, Sir. Efcal. Are you of fourfcore pounds a year? Efcal. So. What trade are you of, Sir? [To Froth. [To the Clown. Clown. A tapfter, a poor widow's tapfter. Clown. Mitrefs Over-done. Efcal. Hath fhe had any more than one husband? Efcal. Nine Come hither to me, mafter Froth: mafter Froth, I would not have you acquainted with tapfters; they will draw you, mafter 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 in a taphouse, but I am drawn in. Efcal. Well; no more of it, mafter Froth; farewel. [Exit Froth. Come you hither to me, mafter tapfter; what's your name, mafter tapfter? Clown. Pompey. Clown. Bum, Sir. Efcal. What else? Efcal. Troth, and your bum is the greateft thing about you, so that, in the beastlieft sense, you are Pompey the the Great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey ; how foever you colour it in being a tapfter; are you not? come, tell me true, it fhall be the better for you. Clown. Truly, Sir, I am a poor fellow that would live. Efcal. 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. Efcal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey; nor it fhall not be allowed in Vienna. Clown. Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the youth in the city? Efcal. 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. Efcal. 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 commiffion for more heads: if this law hold in Vienna ten years, (6) I'll rent the fairest house in it, after three pence a bay if you live to fee this come to pass, say Pompey told you fo. (6) I'll rent the fairest boufe in it, after three pence a Day.] For my part, I believe, our Poet had no Notion of reducing Houfe-rent to a P.cportion by the Day. The meaning is this. The Fashion of Buildings, in our Author's time, was to have two or three femicircular juttings out in Front, (which we ftill fee in the Remains of old Houses,) where the Windows were placed: And these Projections were called Bays; as the Windows were, from them, called Baywindows. Minshew tells us, the Reafon of the name being given was, becaufe this Form of Building refembled a Bay, or Road for Ships, which is always round, and bow-ing, to break off the Force of the Water. So that, Houses, as I faid, having not above two or three of thefe Juttings out, the Clown fays, "the Houses won't be worth above three pence a Bay". e. Nine pence per Year at the Largeft Computation. Efcal. 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 whatfoever; no, not for dwelling where you do; if I do Pompey, I fhall beat you to your tent, and prove a fhrewd Cafar to you: in plain dealing, Pompey, I fhall have you whipt: fo for this time, Pompey, fare you well. Clown. I thank your worship for your good counfel; but I fhall follow it, as the flesh and fortune fhall better determine. Whip me? no, no; let the carman whip his jade; [Exit. Efcal. Come hither to me, mafter Elbow: come hither, mafter conftable; how long have you been in this place of conflable? Elb. Seven year and a half, Sir. Ejcal. I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had continued in it fome time: you fay, feven years together? Elbow. And a half, Sir. Efcal. Alas! it hath been great pains to you; they do you wrong to put you fo oft upon't: are there not men in your ward fufficient to ferve it? Elb. Faith, Sir, few of any wit in fuch matters; as they are chofen, they are glad to chufe me for them. I do it for fome piece of mony, and go through with all. Efcal. Look you, bring me in the names of fome fix or leven, the moft fufficient of your parish. Elb. To your worship's houfe, Sirr Efal. To my houfe; fare you well. What's a clock, think you? Juf. Eleven, Sir. [Exit Elbow. Efcal. I pray you home to dinner with me. Juft. I humbly thank you. Efcal. It grieves me for the death of Claudio. But there's no remedy. Juft. Lord Angelo is fevere. E/cal. It is but needful: Mercy is not itself, that oft looks fo; Pardon is ftill the nurfe of fecond woe: But Claudio! there's no remedy. But yet, poor Come, Sir. Enter Provost, and a Servant. [Exeunt. Serv. He's hearing of a caufe; he will come ftraight: I'll tell him of you. Prov. Pray you, do; I'll know His pleasure; 't may be, he'll relent; alas! He hath but as offended in a dream: All fects, all ages finack of this vice; and he To die for it! Enter Angelo. Ang. Now, what's the matter, Provost? Prov. Is it your will, Claudio fhall die to-morrow? Ang. Did not I tell thee, yea? hadft thou not order? Why dost thou afk again? Prov. Left I might be too rash. Under your good correction, I have feen, Ang. Go to; let that be mine, Do you your office, or give up your place, Prov. I crave your pardon. What fhall be done, Sir, with the groaning Juliet? Ang. Difpofe of her To fome more fitting place, and that with speed. Ang. Hath he a fifter? Prov. Ay, my good lord, a very virtuous maid, And to be fhortly of a fifter-hood, If not already. Ang. Well; let her be admitted. See you, the fornicatress be remov'd ; [Exit Servant. Let her have needful, but not lavish, means; Enter Lucio and Ifabella. Prov. 'Save your honour. Ang. Stay yet a while Y'are welcome; what's your will? fab. I am a woeful fuitor to your Honour, Pleafe but your Honour hear me. Ang. Well; what's your fuit? Ijab. There is a vice that most I do abhor, Ifab. I have a brother is condemn'd to die: And not my brother. Prov. Heav'n give thee moving graces! Ang. Condemn the fault, and not the actor of it? To find the faults, whofe fine ftands in record, Jab. O juft, but fevere law! I had a brother then;-heav'n keep your Honour ! You could not with more tame a tongue defire it. Jab. Muft he needs die? Ang. Maiden, no remedy. Ilub. Yes; I do think, that you might pardon him ; And neither heav'n, nor man, grieve at the mercy. Ang. I will not do't. Ifab. But can you if you would ? Ang. Look, what I will not, that I cannot do. Lab. But might you do't, and do the world no wrong, |