BAWD.
And what shall become of those in the city?
CLOWN.
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?
CLOWN.
To the ground, mistress.
BAWD.
Why, here's a change indeed in the commonwealth! What shall
become of me?
CLOWN.
Come, fear not you; 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.
BAWD.
What's to do here, Thomas Tapster? Let's withdraw.
CLOWN.
Here comes Signior Claudio, led by the provost to prison: and
there's Madam Juliet.
[Exeunt.]
