# Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/Measure, for Measure/Act 1 Scene 2

Scena Secunda.
Enter Lucio, and two other Gentlemen.
Luc. If the Duke, with the other Dukes, come not to composition with the King of Hungary, why then all the Dukes fall vpon the King.
1.Gent. Heauen grant vs its peace, but not the King of Hungaries.
2.Gent. Amen.
Luc. Thou conclud'st like the Sanctimonious Pirat, that went to sea with the ten Commandements, but scrap'd one out of the Table.
2.Gent. Thou shalt not Steale?
Luc. I, that he raz'd.
1.Gent. Why? 'twas a commandement, to command the Captaine and all the rest from their functions: they put forth to steale: There's not a Souldier of vs all, that in the thanks-giuing before meate, do rallish the petition well, that praies for peace.
2.Gent. I neuer heard any Souldier dislike it.
Luc. I beleeue thee: for I thinke thou neuer was't where Grace was said.
2.Gent. No? a dozen times at least.
1.Gent. What? In meeter?
Luc. In any proportion: or in any language.
1.Gent. I thinke, or in any Religion.
Luc. I, why not? Grace, is Grace, despight of all controuersie: as for example; Thou thy selfe art a wicked villaine, despight of all Grace.
1.Gent. Well: there went but a paire of sheeres betweene vs.
Luc. I grant: as there may betweene the Lists, and the Veluet. Thou art the List.
1.Gent. And thou the Veluet; thou art good veluet; thou'rt a three pild-peece I warrant thee: I had as liefe be a Lyst of an English Kersey, as be pil'd, as thou art pil'd, for a French Veluet. Do I speake feelingly now?
Luc. I thinke thou do'st: and indeed with most painfull feeling of thy speech: I will, out of thine owne confession, learne to begin thy health; but, whilst I liue forget to drinke after thee.
1.Gen.
I think I haue done my selfe wrong, haue I not?
2.Gent. Yes, that thou hast; whether thou art tainted, or free.
Enter Bawde.
Behold, behold, where Madam Mitigation comes. I haue purchas'd as many diseases vnder her Roofe, As come to
2.Gent. To what, I pray?
Luc. Iudge.
2.Gent. To three thousand Dollours a yeare.
1.Gent. I, and more.
Luc. A French crowne more.
1.Gent. Thou art alwayes figuring diseases in me; but thou art full of error, I am sound.
Luc. Nay, not (as one would say) healthy: but so sound, as things that are hollow; thy bones are hollow; Impiety has made a feast of thee.
1.Gent. How now, which of your hips has the most profound Ciatica?
Bawd. Well, well: there's one yonder arrested, and carried to prison, was worth fiue thousand of you all.
2.Gent. Who's that I pray'thee?
Bawd. Marry Sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio.
1.Gent. Claudio to prison? 'tis not so.
Bawd. Nay, but I know 'tis so: I saw him arrested: saw him carried away: and which is more, within these three daies his head to be chop'd off.
Luc. But, after all this fooling, I would not haue it so: Art thou sure of this?
Bawd. I am too sure of it: and it is for getting Madam Iulietta with childe.
Luc. Beleeue me this may be: he promis'd to meete me two howres since, and he was euer precise in promise keeping.
2.Gent. Besides you know, it drawes somthing neere to the speech we had to such a purpose.
1.Gent. But most of all agreeing with the proclamatiõ.
Luc. Away: let's goe learne the truth of it.Exit.
Bawd. Thus, what with the war; what with the sweat, what with the gallowes, and what with pouerty, I am Custom-shrunke. How now? what's the newes with you.
Enter Clowne.
Yonder man is carried to prison.
Baw. Well: what has he done?
Clo. A Woman.
Baw. But what's his offence?
Clo. Groping for Trowts, in a peculiar Riuer.
Baw. What? is there a maid with child by him?
Clo. No: but there's a woman with maid by him: you haue not heard of the proclamation, haue you?
Baw. What proclamation, man?
Clow.
All howses in the Suburbs of Vienna must bee pluck'd downe.
Bawd. And what shall become of those in the Citie?
Clow.
They shall stand for seed: they had gon down to, but that a wise Burger put in for them.
Bawd. But shall all our houses of resort in the Suburbs be puld downe?
Clow.
To the ground, Mistris.
Bawd. Why heere's a change indeed in the Commonwealth: what shall become of me?
Clow.
Come: feare not you; good Counsellors lacke no Clients: though you change your place, you neede not change your Trade: Ile bee your Tapster still; courage, there will bee pitty taken on you; you that haue worne your eyes almost out in the seruice, you will bee considered.
Bawd. What's to doe heere, Thomas Tapster? let's withdraw?
Clo. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the Prouost to prison: and there's Madam Iuliet. Exeunt.
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