Pompey's lines in Measure for Measure

Pompey. Yonder man is carried to prison.

Pompey. A woman.

Pompey. Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.

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

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

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

Pompey. To the ground, mistress.

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.

Pompey. Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison; and there's Madam Juliet.

Pompey. He cannot, sir; he's out at elbow.

Pompey. Sir, if it please your honour, this is not so.

Pompey. Sir, she came in great with child; and longing, saving your honour's reverence, for stewed prunes; sir, we had but two in the house, which at that very distant time stood, as it were, in a fruit-dish, a dish of some three-pence; your honours have seen such dishes; they are not China dishes, but very good dishes,--

Pompey. No, indeed, sir, not of a pin; you are therein in the right: but to the point.

As I say, this Mistress Elbow, being, as I say, with child, and being great-bellied, and longing, as I said, for prunes; and having but two in the dish, as I said, Master Froth here, this very man, having eaten the rest, as I said, and, as I say, paying for them very honestly; for, as you know, Master Froth, I could not give you three-pence again.

Pompey. Very well: you being then, if you be remembered, cracking the stones of the foresaid prunes,--

Pompey. Why, very well; I telling you then, if you be remembered, that such a one and such a one were past cure of the thing you wot of, unless they kept very good diet, as I told you,--

Pompey. Why, very well, then,--

Pompey. Sir, your honour cannot come to that yet.

Pompey. Sir, but you shall come to it, by your honour's leave. And, I beseech you, look into Master Froth here, sir; a man of four-score pound a year; whose father died at Hallowmas: was't not at Hallowmas, Master Froth?

Pompey. Why, very well; I hope here be truths. He, sir, sitting, as I say, in a lower chair, sir; 'twas in the Bunch of Grapes, where indeed you have a delight to sit, have you not?

Pompey. Why, very well, then; I hope here be truths.

Pompey. Once, sir? there was nothing done to her once.

Pompey. I beseech your honour, ask me.

Pompey. I beseech you, sir, look in this gentleman's face. Good Master Froth, look upon his honour; 'tis for a good purpose. Doth your honour mark his face?

Pompey. Nay; I beseech you, mark it well.

Pompey. Doth your honour see any harm in his face?

Pompey. I'll be supposed upon a book, his face is the worst thing about him. Good, then; if his face be the worst thing about him, how could Master Froth do the constable's wife any harm? I would know that of your honour.

Pompey. By this hand, sir, his wife is a more respected person than any of us all.

Pompey. Sir, she was respected with him before he married with her.

Pompey. Tapster; a poor widow's tapster.

Pompey. Mistress Overdone.

Pompey. Nine, sir; Overdone by the last.

Pompey. Pompey.

Pompey. Bum, sir.

Pompey. Truly, sir, I am a poor fellow that would live.

Pompey. If the law would allow it, sir.

Pompey. Does your worship mean to geld and splay all the youth of the city?

Pompey. Truly, sir, in my poor opinion, they will to't then. If your worship will take order for the drabs and the knaves, you need not to fear the bawds.

Pompey. If you head and hang all that offend that way but for ten year together, you'll be glad to give out a commission for more heads: if this law hold in Vienna ten year, I'll rent the fairest house in it after three-pence a bay: if you live to see this come to pass, say Pompey told you so.

Pompey. I thank your worship for your good counsel:

but I shall follow it as the flesh and fortune shall better determine. Whip me? No, no; let carman whip his jade: The valiant heart is not whipt out of his trade.

Pompey. 'Twas never merry world since, of two usuries, the merriest was put down, and the worser allowed by order of law a furred gown to keep him warm; and furred with fox and lamb-skins too, to signify, that craft, being richer than innocency, stands for the facing.

Pompey. Indeed, it does stink in some sort, sir; but yet, sir, I would prove--

Pompey. I spy comfort; I cry bail. Here's a gentleman and a friend of mine.

Pompey. Troth, sir, she hath eaten up all her beef, and she is herself in the tub.

Pompey. Yes, faith, sir.

Pompey. hope, sir, your good worship will be my bail.

Pompey. You will not bail me, then, sir?

Pompey. If the man be a bachelor, sir, I can; but if he be a married man, he's his wife's head, and I can never cut off a woman's head.

Pompey. Sir, I have been an unlawful bawd time out of mind; but yet I will be content to be a lawful hangman. I would be glad to receive some instruction from my fellow partner.

Pompey. Pray, sir, by your good favour,--for surely, sir, a good favour you have, but that you have a hanging look,--do you call, sir, your occupation a mystery?

Pompey. Painting, sir, I have heard say, is a mystery; and your whores, sir, being members of my occupation, using painting, do prove my occupation a mystery: but what mystery there should be in hanging, if I should be hanged, I cannot imagine.

Pompey. Proof?

Pompey. Sir, I will serve him; for I do find your hangman is a more penitent trade than your bawd; he doth oftener ask forgiveness.

Pompey. I do desire to learn, sir: and I hope, if you have occasion to use me for your own turn, you shall find me yare; for truly, sir, for your kindness I owe you a good turn.

Pompey. am as well acquainted here as I was in our house of profession: one would think it were Mistress Overdone's own house, for here be many of her old customers.

First, here's young Master Rash; he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old ginger, ninescore and seventeen pounds; of which he made five marks, ready money: marry, then ginger was not much in request, for the old women were all dead.

Then is there here one Master Caper, at the suit of Master Three-pile the mercer, for some four suits of peach-coloured satin, which now peaches him a beggar.

Then have we here young Dizy, and young Master Deep-vow, and Master Copperspur, and Master Starve-lackey the rapier and dagger man, and young Drop-heir that killed lusty Pudding, and Master Forthlight the tilter, and brave Master Shooty the great traveller, and wild Half-can that stabbed Pots, and, I think, forty more; all great doers in our trade, and are now 'for the Lord's sake.'

Pompey. Master Barnardine! you must rise and be hanged. Master Barnardine!

Pompey. Your friends, sir; the hangman. You must be so good, sir, to rise and be put to death.

Pompey. Pray, Master Barnardine, awake till you are executed, and sleep afterwards.

Pompey. He is coming, sir, he is coming; I hear his straw rustle.

Pompey. Very ready, sir.

Pompey. O, the better, sir; for he that drinks all night, and is hanged betimes in the morning, may sleep the sounder all the next day.