Lucio:
	Behold, behold. where Madam Mitigation comes! I 
	 have purchased as many diseases under her roof as come to --
   
Second Gentleman:
	To what, I pray?

Lucio:
	Judge.

Second Gentleman:
	To three thousand dolours a year.

First Gentleman:
	Ay, and more.

Lucio:
	A French crown more.

First Gentleman:
	Thou art always figuring diseases in me; but thou
	art full of error; I am sound.

Lucio:
	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.

	{Enter Mistress Overdone}

First Gentleman:
	How now! which of your hips has the most profound sciatica?

Mistress Overdone:
	Well, well; there's one yonder arrested and carried
	to prison was worth five thousand of you all.

Second Gentleman:
	Who's that, I pray thee?

Mistress Overdone:
	Marry, sir, that's Claudio, Signior Claudio.

First Gentleman:
	Claudio to prison? 'tis not so.

Mistress Overdone:
	Nay, but I know 'tis so: I saw him arrested, saw
	him carried away; and, which is more, within these
	three days his head to be chopped off.

Lucio:
	But, after all this fooling, I would not have it so.
	Art thou sure of this?

Mistress Overdone:
	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.

Second Gentleman:
	Besides, you know, it draws something near to the
	speech we had to such a purpose.

First Gentleman:
	But, most of all, agreeing with the proclamation.

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

	{Exeunt Lucio and Gentlemen.}

Mistress Overdone:
	Thus, what with the war, what with the sweat, what
	with the gallows and what with poverty, I am
	custom-shrunk.
	{Enter Pompey}
	How now! what's the news with you?

Pompey:
	Yonder man is carried to prison.

Mistress Overdone:
	Well; what has he done?

Pompey:
	A woman.

Mistress Overdone:
	But what's his offense?

Pompey:
	Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.

Mistress Overdon:
	What, is there a maid with child by him?

Pompey:
	No, but there's a woman with maid by him. You have
	not heard of the proclamation, have you?

Mistress Overdone:
	What proclamation, man?

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

Mistress Overdone:
	And what shall become of those in the city?

Pompey:
	They shall stand for seed: they had gone down too,
	but that a wise burgher put in for them.

Mistress Overdone:
	But shall all our houses of resort in the suburbs be
	pulled down?

Pompey:
	To the ground, mistress.

Mistress Overdone:
	Why, here's a change indeed in the commonwealth!
	What shall become of me?

Pompey:
	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.

Mistress Overdone:
	What's to do here, Thomas tapster? let's withdraw.