ISABELLA. The image of it gives me content already; and I trust it will grow to a most prosperous perfection. DUKE. It lies much in your holding up. Haste you speedily to Angelo: if for this night he entreat you to his bed, give him promise of satisfaction. I will presently to Saint Luke's: there, at the moated grange, resides this dejected Mariana. At that place call upon me; and dispatch with Angelo, that it may be quickly. ISABELLA. I thank you for this comfort. Fare you well, good father. (Exeunt severally.) SCENE II. The street before the prison. Enter, on one side, Duke disguised as before; on the other, Elbow, and Officers with Pompey. ELBOW. Nay, if there be no remedy for it, but that you will needs buy and sell men and women like beasts, we shall have all the world drink brown and white bastard. DUKE. O heavens! what stuff is here? POMPEY. 'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by order of law a furred gown to keep him warm; and furred with fox and lamb-skins too, to signify, that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing. ELBOW. Come your way, sir,-'Bless you, good father friar. DUKE. And you, good brother father. What offence hath this man made you, sir? ELBOW. Marry, sir, he hath offended the law: and, sir, we take him to be a thief too, sir; for we have found upon him, sir, a strange picklock, which we have sent to the Deputy. DUKE. Fie, sirrah! a bawd, a wicked bawd! The evil that thou causest to be done, That is thy means to live. Do thou but think What 'tis to cram a maw or clothe a back From such a filthy vice! say to thyself, Canst thou believe thy living is a life, So stinkingly depending? Go mend, go mend. POMPEY. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but yet, sir, I would prove... DUKE. Nay, if the devil have given thee proofs for sin, Ere this rude beast will profit. ELBOW. He must before the Deputy, sir; he has given him warning: the Deputy cannot abide a whoremaster: if he be a whoremonger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand. DUKE. That we were all, as some would seem to be, From our faults, as faults from seeming, free! ELBOW. His neck will come to your waist,—a cord, sir. POMPEY. I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a gentleman and a friend of mine. LUCIO. (Enter Lucio.) How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels of Cæsar? art thou led in triumph? What, is there none of Pygmalion's images, newly-made woman, to be had now, for putting the hand in the pocket and extracting it clutched? What reply? Ha? What sayest thou to this tune, matter and method? Is 't not drowned i' the last rain? Ha? What sayest thou, Trot? Is the world as it was, man? Which is . the way? Is it sad, and few words? or how? The trick of it? DUKE. Still thus, and thus; still worse! LUCIO. How doth my dear morsel, thy mistress? Procures she still? Ha? POMPEY. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is herself in the tub. LUCIO. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be so: ever your fresh whore and your powdered bawd: an unshunned consequence; it must be so. Art going to prison, Pompey? POMPEY. Yes, faith, sir. LUCIO. Why, 'tis not amiss, Pompey. Farewell: go say I sent thee thither. For debt, Pompey? or how? ELBOW. 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.-Farewell, good Pompey. Commend me to the prison, Pompey: you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the house. POMPEY. I hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail. LUCIÓ. No, indeed, will I not, Pompey; it is not the wear. I will pray, Pompey, to increase your bondage: if you take it not patiently, why, your mettle is the more. Adieu, trusty Pompey.-'Bless you, friar. DUKE. And you. LUCIO. Does Bridget paint still, Pompey? Ha? ELBOW. Come your ways, sir; come. POMPEY. You will not bail me, then, sir? LUCIO. Then, Pompey, nor now.-What news abroad, friar? what news! (Exeunt Elbow, Pompey & Officers.) What news, friar, of the Duke? DUKE. I know none. Can you tell me of any? LUCIO. Some say he is with the Emperor of Russia; other some, he is in Rome: but where is he, think you? DUKE. I know not where; but wheresoever, I wish him well. LUCIO. It was a mad fantastical trick of him to steal from the state, and usurp the beggary he was never born to. Lord Angelo dukes it well in his absence; he puts trangression to 't. DUKE. He does well in 't. LUCIO. A little more lenity to lechery would do no harm in him: something too crabbed that way, friar. DUKE. It is too general a vice, and severity must cure it. LUCIO. Yes, in good sooth, the vice is of a great kindred; it is well allied: but it is impossible to extirp it quite, friar, till eating and drinking be put down. They say this Angelo was not made by man and woman after this downright way of creation: is it true, think you? DUKE. How should he be made, then? LUCIO. Some report a sea-maid spawned him; some, that he was begot between two stock-fishes. But it is certain that, when he makes water, his urine is congealed ice; that I know to be true: and he is a motion generative; that's infallible. DUKE. You are pleasant, sir, and speak apace. LUCIO. Why, what a ruthless thing is this in him, for the rebellion of a codpiece to take away the life of a man? Would the Duke that is absent have done this? Ere he would have hanged a man for the getting a hundred bastards, he would have paid for the nursing a thousand: he had some feeling of the sport; he knew the service, and that instructed him to mercy. DUKE. I never heard the absent Duke much detected for women; he was not inclined that way. LUCIO. Oh, sir, you are deceived. DUKE. 'Tis not possible. LUCIO. Who? not the Duke? yes, your beggar of fifty; and his use was to put a ducat in her clackdish: the Duke had crotchets in him. He would be drunk too; that let me inform you. DUKE. Sir, I was an inward of his. A shy fellow was the Duke: and I believe I know the cause of his withdrawing. DUKE. What, I prithee, might be the cause? LUCIO. No, pardon; 'tis a secret must be locked within the teeth and the lips: but this I can let you understand, the greater file of the subject held the Duke to be wise. DUKE. 'Wise'! why, no question but he was. LUCIO. A very superficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow. DUKE. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking: the very stream of his life and the business he hath helmed must, upon a warranted need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but testimonied in his own bringings-forth, and he shall appear to the envious a scholar, a statesman and a soldier. Therefore you speak unskilfully; or if your knowledge be more, it is much darkened 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, since you know not what you |