Elb. Prove it before these varlets here, thou honourable man, prove it.

Escal. Do you hear how he misplaces?

Clown. Sir, she came in great with child; and longing (saving your honour's reverence) for stew'd prunes; we had but two in the house, which at that very inftant time ftood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a dish of some three pence; (your honours have seen such dishes, they are not China dishes, but very good dishes.)

Escal. Go to, go to; no matter for the dish, Sir.

Clown. No indeed, Sir, not of a pin; you are therein in the right; but to the point; as I say, this mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being great belly'd, and longing, as I said, for prunes; and having no more in the dish, as I said; master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I faid, and, as I say, paying for them very honestly; for, as you know, master Froth, I could not give you three pence again.

Froth. No indeed.

Clown. Very well; you being then, if you be remem bred, cracking the stones of the forefaid prunes.

Froth. Ay, fo I did indeed.

Clown. Why, very well; I telling you then, if you be remembred, that such a one, and such a one, were past cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept good diet, as I told you.

Froth. All this is true.

Clown. Why, very well then.

Efcal. Come, you are a tedious fool; to the purpose: what was done to Elbow's wife, that he hath cause to complain of? come to what was done to her.

Clown: Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet.
Efcal. No, Sir, I mean it not.

Clown. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour's leave: and I befeech you, lock into mafter Froth here, Sir, a man of fourscore pound a year; whose father dy'd at Hallowmas. Was't not at Hallowmas, master Froth?

Froth. All bolland eve.

Clown. Why, very well; I hope here be truths. He, Sir, fitting, as I say, in a lower chair, Sir; 'twas in the bunch bunch of grapes, where indeed you have a delight to fit, have you not?

Froth. I have so, because it is an open room, and good for winter.

Clown. Why, very well then: I hope here be truths. Ang. This will last out a night in Ruffia, When nights are longest there. I'll take my leave, And leave you to the hearing of the cause, Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all.

SCENE III.

[Exit.

Efcal. I think no less. Good-morrow to your lordship. Now, Sir, come on: what was done to Elbow's wife, once more?

Clown. Once, Sir? there was nothing done to her once. Elb. I befeech you, Sir, ask him what this man did to my wife.

Clown. I besfeech your honour, ask me.

Efcal. Well, Sir, what did this gentleman to her? Clown. I beseech you, Sir, look in this gentleman's face; good master Froth, look upon his honour; 'tis for a good purpose; doth your honour mark his face ?

Efcal. Ay, Sir, very well.

Clorun. Nay, I beseech you, mark it well.

Escal. Well, I do fo.

Clown. Doth your honour fee any harm in his face ?
Efcal. Why no.

Clorun. I'll be fuppos'd upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him: good then; if his face be the worst thing about him, how could master Froth do the conftable's wife any harm? I would know that of your honour.

Efcal. He's in the right; constable, what say you to it? Elb. First, an it like you, the house is a respected house; next, this is a respected fellow; and his mistress is a respected woman.

Clown. By this hand, Sir, his wife is a more respected perfon than any of us all.

Elb. Varlet, thou lieft; thou liest, wicked varlet; the time is yet to come, that she was ever respected with man, woman, or child.

Clorun.

Clown. Sir, she was respected with him before he marry'd with her.

Efcal. Which is the wifer here; Justice, or Iniquity? Is this true?

Elb. O thou caitiff! O thou varlet! O thou wicked * Hannibal! I respected with her, before I was marry'd to her? If ever I was respected with her, or she with me, let not your worship think me the poor Duke's officer; prove this, thou wicked * Hannibal, or I'll have mine action of battery on thee.,

Efcal. If he took you a box o'th' ear, you might have your action of flander too.

Elb. Marry, I thank your good worship for it: what is't your worship's pleasure I shall do with this wicked caitiff?

Efcal. Truly, officer, because he hath some offences in him, that thou wouldst discover if thou couldst, let him continue in his courses, 'till thou know'st what they are.

Elb. Marry, I thank your worship for it; thou seest, thou wicked varlet now, what's come upon thee. Thou art to continue now, thou varlet; thou art to continue. Efcal. Where were you born, friend? [To Froth. Froth. Here in Vienna, Sir.

Efcal. Are you of fourscore pounds a year ?
Frotb. Yes, an't please you, Sir.

Efcal, So. What trade are you of, Sir? [To the Clown.
Clown. A tapster, a poor widow's tapster.

Efcal. Your mistress's name?

Clown. Mistress Over-don.

Efcal. Hath she had any more than one husband?
Clown. Nine, Sir: Over-don by the last.

:

Efcal. Nine? Come hither to me, master Froth: master Froth, I would not have you acquainted with tapsters; they will draw you, master Froth, and you will hang them. Get you gone, and let me hear no more of you.

Froth. I thank your worship; for mine own part, I never come into any room in a a taphouse, but I am drawn in. Efcal. Well; no more of it, master Froth; farewel. [Exit Froth.

* He means to say Animal.

SCENE SCENE IV.

Come you hither to me, master tapster; what's your name, master tapster?

Clown. Pompey.
Efcal. What else?

Cloron. Bum, Sir.

Efcal. Troth, and your bum is the greatest thing about you, so that, in the beastliest sense, you are Pompey the great. Pompey, you are partly a bawd, Pompey; howsoever you colour it in being a tapster; are you not? come, tell me true, it shall be the better for you.

Clown. Truly, Sir, I am a poor fellow that would live. Efcal. How would you live, Pompey? by being a bawd ? what do you think of the trade, Pompey? is it a lawful

trade ?

Clown. If the law will allow it, Sir.

Efcal. But the law will not allow it, Pompey, and it fhall not be allowed in Vienna.

Clorun. Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the youth in the city?

Efcal. No, Pompey.

Cloron. Truly, Sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then. If your worship will take order for the drabs and knaves, you need not to fear the bawds.

Efcal. There are pretty orders beginning, I can tell you: it is but heading and hanging.

Clorun. If you head and hang all that offend that way but for ten years together, you'll be glad to give out a commiffion for more heads: if this law hold in Vienna ten years, I'll rent the fairest house in it after three pence a bay: if you live to see this come to pass, say Pompey told you fo.

Efcal. Thank you, good Pompey; and in requital of your prophecy, hark you, I advise you let me not find you before me again upon any complaint whatsoever; no, not for dwelling where you do: if I do, Pompey, I shall beat you to your tent, and prove a shrewd Cæfar to you: in plain dealing, Pompey, I shall have you whipt: fo for this time, Pompey, fare you well.

:

Clovans

Clown. I thank your worship for your good counsel; but I shall follow it, as the flesh and fortune shall better determine.

Whip me? no, no; let carman whip his jade;

The valiant heart's not whipt out of his trade.

SCENE V.

[Exit.

Escal. Come hither to me, master Elbow; come hither, master conftable; how long have you been in this place of conftable ?

Elb. Seven year and a half, Sir.

Efcal. I thought, by your readiness in the office, you had continued in it for some time: you say seven years together ? Elb. And a half, Sir.

Efcal. Alas! it hath been great pains to you; they do you wrong to put you so oft upon't: are there not men in your ward sufficient to serve it?

1

Elb. 'Faith, Sir, few of any wit in such matters; as they are chosen they are glad to chuse me for them. I do it for some piece of mony, and go through with all.

Efcal. Look you, bring me in the names of some fix or

seven, the most sufficient of your parish.

Elb. To your worship's house, Sir?

Eftal. To my house; fare you well.

think you ?

Juft. Eleven, Sir.

What's a clock,

[Exit Elbow.

Efcal. I pray you, go home to dinner with me.
Juft. I humbly thank you.

Efcal. It grieves me for the death of Claudio :

But there's no remedy.

Just. Lord Angelo is severe.

Efcal. It is but needful:

Mercy is not it self, that oft looks so;
Pardon is still the nurse of second woe:

But yei poor Claudio ! there's no remedy.

Come, Sir.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VI. Enter Provost, and a Servant.
Serv. He's hearing of a cause; he will come straight:

I'll tell him of you.

Prov. Pray you do; I'll know

His pleasure; may be he'll relent; alas!

He hath but as offended in a dream:

All