LUCIO. Why, 'tis good; it is the right of it; it must be so; ever
your fresh whore and your powder'd bawd- an unshunn'd
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.
LUCIO. 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?
ELBOW. Come your ways, sir; come.
LUCIO. Go to
kennel, Pompey, go.
Exeunt ELBOW, POMPEY and 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 transgression 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 spawn'd him; some, that he was begot
between two stock-fishes. 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 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 hang'd 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 inclin'd that way.
LUCIO. O, sir, you are deceiv'd.
DUKE. 'Tis not possible.
LUCIO. Who- not the Duke? Yes, your
beggar of fifty; and his use
was to put a ducat in her clack-dish. The Duke had crotchets in
him. He would be drunk too; that let me inform you.
DUKE. You do him wrong, surely.
LUCIO. 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 lock'd 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