had gone down too,
but that a wise burgher put in for them.
But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be
pulled down?
To the ground, mistress.
Why, here's a change indeed in the commonwealth!
What shall become of me?
Come; fear you not: good counsellors lack no
clients: though you change your place, you need not
change your trade; I'll be your tapster still.
Courage! there will be pity taken on you: you that
have worn your eyes almost out in the service, you
will be considered.
What's to do here, Thomas tapster? let's withdraw.
Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost to
prison; and there's Madam Juliet.
Fellow, why dost thou show me thus to the world?
Bear me to prison, where I am committed.
I do it not in evil disposition,
But from Lord Angelo by special charge.
Thus can the demigod Authority
Make us pay down for our offence by weight
The words of heaven; on whom it will, it will;
On whom it will not, so; yet still 'tis just.
Why, how now, Claudio! whence comes this restraint?
From too much liberty, my Lucio, liberty:
As surfeit is the father of much fast,
So every scope by the immoderate use
Turns to restraint. Our natures do pursue,
Like rats that ravin down their proper bane,
A thirsty evil; and when we drink we die.
If could speak so wisely under an arrest, I would
send for certain of my creditors: and yet, to say
the truth, I had as lief have the foppery of freedom
as the morality of imprisonment. What's thy
offence, Claudio?
What but to speak of would offend again.
What, is't murder?
No.
Lechery?
Call it so.
Away, sir! you must go.
One word, good friend. Lucio, a word with you.
A hundred, if they'll do you any good.
Is lechery so look'd after?
Thus stands it with me: upon a true contract
I got possession of Julietta's bed:
You know the lady; she is fast my wife,
Save that we do the denunciation lack
Of outward order: this we came not to,
Only for propagation of a dower
Remaining in the coffer of her friends,
From whom we thought it meet to hide our love
Till time had made them for us. But it chances
The stealth of our most mutual entertainment
With character too gross is writ on Juliet.
With child, perhaps?
Unhappily, even so.
And the new deputy now for the duke--
Whether it be the fault and glimpse of newness,