The Complete Works of William Shakespeare - Israel Gollancz William Shakespeare [847]
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 allow'd by order of law a furr'd
gown to keep him warm; and furr'd with fox on 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
'From their abominable and beastly touches
I drink, I eat, array myself, and live.'
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,
Thou wilt prove his. Take him to prison, officer;
Correction and instruction must both work
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 his faults from seeming, free.
ELBOW.
His neck will come to your waist- a cord, sir.
Enter LUCIO
POMPEY.
I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a gentleman, and a friend of mine.
LUCIO.
How now, noble Pompey! What, at the wheels of Caesar?
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 clutch'd? What reply, ha? What say'st
thou to this tune, matter, and method? Is't not drown'd i' th'
last rain, ha? What say'st 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 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