Still thus, and thus: still worse?
Luc. How doth my deere Morsell, thy Mistris? Procures
she still? Ha?
Clo. Troth sir, shee hath eaten vp all her beefe, and
she is her selfe in the tub
Luc. Why 'tis good: It is the right of it: it must be
so. Euer your fresh Whore, and your pouder'd Baud, an
vnshun'd consequence, it must be so. Art going to prison
Pompey?
Clo. Yes faith sir
Luc. Why 'tis not amisse Pompey: farewell: goe say
I sent thee thether: for debt Pompey? Or how?
Elb. For being a baud, for being a baud
Luc. Well, then imprison him: If imprisonment be
the due of a baud, why 'tis his right. Baud is he doubtlesse,
and of antiquity too: Baud borne. Farwell good
Pompey: Commend me to the prison Pompey, you will
turne good husband now Pompey, you will keepe the
house
Clo. I hope Sir, your good Worship wil be my baile?
Luc. No indeed wil I not Pompey, it is not the wear:
I will pray (Pompey) to encrease your bondage if you
take it not patiently: Why, your mettle is the more:
Adieu trustie Pompey.
Blesse you Friar
Duke. And you
Luc. Do's Bridget paint still, Pompey? Ha?
Elb. Come your waies sir, come
Clo. You will not baile me then Sir?
Luc. Then Pompey, nor now: what newes abroad Frier?
What newes?
Elb. Come your waies sir, come
Luc. Goe to kennell (Pompey) goe:
What newes Frier of the Duke?
Duke. I know none: can you tell me of any?
Luc.
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