We have with a leavened1 and prepared choice
Proceeded to you; therefore take your honors.
Our haste from hence is of so quick condition,
That it prefers itself, and leaves unquestioned
Matters of needful value. We shall write to you,
As time and our concernings shall impórtune,
How it goes with us; and do look to know
What doth befall you here. So, fare you well:
To the hopeful execution do I leave you
Of your commissions.

Ang.

Yet, give leave, my lord,

That we may bring you something on the way.
Duke. My haste may not admit it;
Nor need you, on mine honor, have to do

With any scruple: your scope is as mine own;
So to enforce or qualify the laws,

As to your soul seems good. Give me your hand;
I'll privily away; I love the people,
But do not like to stage me to their eyes;
Though it do well, I do not relish well
Their loud applause, and aves 2 vehement;
Nor do I think the man of safe discretion,
That does affect it. Once more, fare you well.
Ang. The heavens give safety to your purposes!
Escal. Lead forth, and bring you back in happiness.
Duke. I thank you: fare you well.
Escal. I shall desire you, sir, to give me leave
To have free speech with you; and it concerns me
To look into the bottom of my place:

[Exit.

A power I have; but of what strength and nature
I am not yet instructed.

Ang. 'Tis so with me:- let us withdraw together,

And we may soon our satisfaction have

Touching that point.

Escal.

I'll wait upon your honor.

Bawd. I am too sure of it; and it is for getting madam Julietta with child.

Lucio. Believe me, this may be he promised to meet me two hours since; and he was ever precise in promise-keeping.

2 Gent. Besides, you know, it draws something near to the speech we had to such a purpose.

1 Gent. But most of all, agreeing with the procla

mation.

Lucio. Away; let's go learn the truth of it.

[Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen.

Bawd. Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat,1 what with the gallows, and what with poverty, I am custom-shrunk. How now? What's the news

with you?

Enter Clown.

Clo. Yonder man is carried to prison.
Bawd. Well; what has he done?

Clo. A woman.

Bawd. But what's his offence?

Clo. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river. Bawd. What, is there a maid with child by him? Clo. No; but there's a woman with maid by him: you have not heard of the proclamation, have you? Bawd. What proclamation, man?

Clo. All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down.

Bawd. And what shall become of those in the city? Clo. They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too, but that a wise burgher put in for them. Bawd. But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be pulled down?

Clo. To the ground, mistress.

Bawd. Why, here's a change, indeed, in the commonwealth! What shall become of me?

Clo. Come, fear not you; good counsellors lack no clients; though you change your place, you need not