FROTH.
All-hallond eve.
CLOWN.
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? —
FROTH.
I have so; because it is an open room, and good for winter.
CLOWN.
Why, very well then; — I hope here be truths.
ANGELO.
This will last out a night in Russia,
When nights are longest there: I'll take my leave,
And leave you to the hearing of the cause;
Hoping you'll find good cause to whip them all.
ESCALUS.
I think no less. Good morrow to your lordship.
[Exit ANGELO.]
Now, sir, come on; what was done to Elbow's wife, once more?
CLOWN.
Once, sir? there was nothing done to her once.
ELBOW.
I beseech you, sir, ask him what this man did to my wife.
CLOWN.
I beseech your honour, ask me.
ESCALUS.
Well, sir: what did this gentleman to her?
