Efcal. If any in Vienna be of Worth To undergo fuch ample Grace and Honour, Enter Angelo. Duke. Look where he comes. Ang. Always obedient to your Grace's Will, There is a kind of Character in thy Life, As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd, The fmalleft Scruple of her Excellence, But like a thrifty Goddefs, fhe determines Her felf the Glory of a Creditor, Both Thanks and Ufe. But I do bend my Speech To one that can my Part in him advertise; Hold therefore, Angelo: In our Remove, be thou at full, our self. Mortality and Mercy in Vienna, Live in thy Tongue and Heart: Old Efcalus, Ang. Now, good my Lord, Let there be fome more Teft made of my Metal, Be ftampt upon it. Duke. No more Evafion: We have with a leven'd and prepar'd Choice What What doth befal you here. So fare you well, Ang. Yet give leave, my Lord, That we may bring you fomething on the Way. Nor need you, on mine Honour, have to do As to your Soul feems good. Give me your Hand; But do not like to ftage me to their Eyes: Efcal. I fhall defire you, Sir, to give me leave my Place: A Power I have, but of what Strength and Nature Ang. 'Tis fo with me: Let us with-draw together, Touching that Point. Efcal. I'll wait upon your Honour, SCENE II. The Street. Enter Lucio, and two Gentlemen. [Exit. [Exeunt. Lucio. If the Duke, with the other Dukes, come not to Compofition with the King of Hungary, why then all the Dukes fall upon the King. I Gent. Heav'n grant us its Peace, but not the King of Hungary's. 2 Gent. Amen. Lucio. Thou conclud'st like the Sanctimonious Pyrat, that went to Sea with the ten Commandments, but scrap'd one out of the Table. 2 Gent. Thou shalt not fteal? Lucio. Ay, that he raz'd. 1 Gent. Why? 'twas a Commandment to command the Captain and all the reft from their Functions; they put forth to fteal: There's not a Soldier of us all, that, in the Thanksgiving before Meat, do relish the Petition well that prays for Peace. 2 Gent. I never heard any Soldier diflike it. Lucio. I believe thee: For I think thou never waft where Grace was faid. 2 Gent. No? a dozen times at leaft 1 Gent. What? in Meeter? Lucio. In any Proportion, or in any Language. I Gent. I think, or in any Religion. Lucio. Ay, why not? Grace, is Grace, defpight of all Controverfie; as for Example, Thou thy felf art a wicked Villain, defpight of all Grace. i Gent. Well; there went but a Pair of Sheers between us. Lucio. I grant; as there may between the Lifts and the Velvet. Thou art the Lift. 1 Gent. And thou the Velvet; thou art good Velvet ; thou'rt a three-pil'd Piece I warrant thee: I had as lief be a Lift of an English Kerfey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French Velvet. Do I fpeak feelingly now? Lucio. I think thou doft; and indeed with most painful feeling of thy Speech: I will, out of thine own Confeffion, learn to begin thy Health; but, whilft I live, forget to drink after thee. I Gent. I think I have done my felf wrong, have I not? 2 Gent. Yes, that thou haft; whether thou art tainted, or free. Enter Bawd. Lucio. Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes. I have purchas'd as many Difeafes under her Roof, As come to 2 Gent. To what, I pray? Lucio. Judge. 2 Gent. To three thousand Dolours a Year. I Gent. Ay, and more. Lucio. A French Crown more, 1 Gent, 1 Gent. Thou art always figuring Diseases in me; but thou art full of Error, I am found. Lucio. Nay, not, as one would fay, healthy; but fo found, as things that are hollow; thy Bones are hollow; Impiety has made a Feast of thee. i Gent. How now, which of your Hips has the most profound Sciatica? Bawd. Well, well; there's one yonder arrested, and carry'd to Prifon, was worth five thousand of you all. 2 Gent. Who's that, I prethee? Bawd. Marry Sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio. I Gent. Claudio to Prifon? 'tis not fo. Bawd. Nay, but I know 'tis fo; I faw him arrested; faw him carry'd away; and which is more, within these three Days his Head is to be chopt off. Lucio. But, after all this fooling, I would not have it fo: Art thou fure of this? Bawd. I am too fure of it; and it is for getting Madam Julietta with Child. Lucio. Believe me this may be; he promised to meet me two Hours fince, and he was ever precife in Promisekeeping. 2 Gent. Befides, you know it draws fomething near to the Speech we had to fuch a Purpose. 1 Gent. But most of all agreeing with the Proclamation. Lucio. Away, let's go learn the Truth of it. [Exeunt. Bawd. Thus, what with the War, what with the Sweat, what with the Gallows, and what with Poverty, I am Cuftom-shrunk. How now? what's the News with you? Enter Clown. Clown. Yonder Man is carry'd to Prison. Clown. A Woman. Bawd. But what's his Offence? Clown. Groping for Trouts in a peculiar River. Bawd. What? is there a Maid with Child by him? Clown. No; but there's a Woman with Maid by him. You have not heard of the Proclamation, have you? Bawd. What Proclamation, Man? Clown. All Houses in the Suburbs of Vienna must be pluck'd down. Bawd my Wife, that now laughs at thee. Tell her Mr. Slender hath marry'd her Daughter. Mrs. Page. Doctors doubt that; If Anne Page be my Daughter, fhe is, by this, Doctor Cains's Wife.. Enter Slender. Slen. What hoe! hoe! Father Page! Page. Son? How now? How now Son, Have you dispatch'd? Slen. Difpatch'd? I'll make the beft in Gloucefter fhire know on't; would I were hang'd-la, elfe. iPage. Of what, Son? Slen. I came yonder at Eaton to marry Mistress Anne Page, and he's a great lubberly Boy. If it had not been i'th' Church, I would have fwing'd him, or he should have fwing'd me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page, would I might never ftir, and 'tis a Poft-master's Boy. Page. Upon my Life then you took the wrong. Slen. What need you tell me that? I think fo, when I took a Boy for a Girl: If I had been marry'd to him, for all he was in Woman's Apparel, I would not have had him. Page. Why, this is your own Folly. Did not I tell you how you should know my Daughter Slen. I went to her in green and cry'd Mum, and she cry'd Budget, as Anne and I had appointed, and yet it was not Anne, but a Poft-master's Boy. Mrs. Page. Good George be not angry; I knew of your purpose, turn'd my Daughter into white, and indeed the is now with the Doctor at the Deanry, and there marry'd. Enter Caius. Caius. Ver is Mistress Page; by gar I am cozon'd, I ha’ marry'd one Garfoon, a Boe; oon Pefant, by gar. A Boy, it is not Anne Page, by gar, I am cozon'd. Mrs. Page. Why? Did you take her in white? Caius. Ay be gar, and 'tis a Boy; be gar, I'll raise all Windfor. Ford. This is ftrange; who hath got the right Anne? Page. My Heart mifgives me; here comes Mr. Fenton. How now Mr. Fenton? Anne. |