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upon him, Sir, a ftrange pick-lock, which we have fent

to the Deputy.

Duke. Fie, Sirrah, a bawd, a wicked bawd!

The evil that thou caufeft to be done,

That is thy means to live. Doft thou but think,
What 'tis to cram a maw or cloath a back,
From fuch a filthy vice fay to thyself,
From their abominable and beaftly touches
I drink, I eat, array myself, and live. (11)
Can't thou believe thy living is a life,

So ftinkingly depending! go mend, mend.

Clown. Indeed, it doth flink in fome fort, Sir; but yet, Sir, I would prove

Duke. Nay, if the devil hath giv'n thee proofs for fin, Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prifon, officer; Correction and instruction must both work,

Ere this rude beaft will profit.

Elb. He muft before the Deputy, Sir: he has given him warning; the Deputy cannot abide a whore-master; if he be a whore-monger, and comes before him, he were as good go a mile on his errand.

Duke. That we were all, as fome would feem to be, Free from all faults, as faults from seeming free!

Enter Lucio.

Elb. His neck will come to your wafte, a cord, Sir. Clown. I fpy comfort: I cry, bail: here's a gentle. man, and a friend of mine.

(11) I drink, I eat away myself, and live.] Thus hitherto in all the Impreffions. This is one very excellent Inftance of the Sagacity of our Editors, and it were to be wifhed heartily, they would have obliged us with their phyfical Solution, how a Man can cat away himself and live. The ingenious Mr. Bihp, when we read this Play together, gave me that most certain Emendation, which I have fubftituted in the Room of the former foolish Reading; by the help whereof, we have this eafy Senfe; that the Clown fed himself, and put cloaths on his back, by exercifing the vile Trade of a Bawd.

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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? is't, not drown'd i'th' laft rain? ha? what fay't 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 ; fill worfe!

Lucio. How doth my dear morfel, thy miftrefs? procures the ftill? ha?

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

Lucie. 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 imprifon 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 prifon, Pompey; you will turn good husband now, Pompey; you will keep the houfe.

:

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?

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

Friar? what news?

Elb.

Elb. Come your ways, Sir, come.
Lucio. Go to kennel, Pompey, go:

[Exeunt Elbow, Clown and Officers.

What news, Friar of the Duke ?

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

Lucio. Some fay, he is with the Emperor of Ruffia; 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 general a vice, and feverity muft cure it.

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 fay, 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 fpawn'd him. Some, that he was got between two flock-fishes. But it is certain, that when he makes water, his urine is congeal'd ice; that I know to be true: (12) and he is a motion ungenerative, that's infallible.

(12) and he's a Motion generative: that's infallible.] This may be Senfe; and Lucis, perhaps, may mean, that tho' Angelo have the Organs of Generation, yet that he makes no more Use of them than he were an inanimate Puppet. But I rather think our Author wrote 2 and he is a Motion ungenerative, because Lucio again in this very Scene fays ;---this ungenitured Agent will unpeaple the Province with Continency.

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

Lucin. Why, what a ruthlefs 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 baftards, he would have paid for the nurfing a thoufand. He had fome feeling of the sport, he knew the fervice, and that inftructed him to mercy.

Dake. I never heard the abfent Duke much detected for women; he was not inclined 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 clack-dish; 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 cause of his withdrawing.

Duke. What pr'ythee might be the caufe?

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

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

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Lucio. A very fuperficial, ignorant, unweighing fellow. Duke. Either this is envy in you, folly, or mistaking: the very ftream of his life, and the bufinefs he hath helmed, muft, upon a warranted Need, give him a better proclamation. Let him be but teftimoned in his own bringings forth, and he fhall appear to the envious, a fcholar, a ftatesman, and a foldier. Therefore, you fpeak unfkilfully; 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.

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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 honest you have spoke, you have courage to maintain it, I am bound to call upon you, and, I pray you, your name?

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

Duke. He hall 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 hangid first Friar' But no more of this. - die to-morrow, or no?

Duke. Why should he die,

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thou art deceiv'd in me, Canft thou tell, if Claudio

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 cona tinency. Sparrows must not build in his houfe-eaves, 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 pr'ythee, pray for me: (13) the Duke, I fay to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He's now past 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. [Exit.

2

(13) The Duke, I say to thee again, would eat Mutton on Fridays.] This is not meant to impeach the Duke of being an ill Catholick, as tranfgreffing the Rules of Abftinence in Diet: But the Joke, alluded to, will be explain'd by looking back to the fecond Note on the Two Gentlemen of Verona.

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