Get. I grant ye,
I being then the Edile Getianus,
A man of place, and Judge, is it held requisite
I should commit to my consideration
Those Rascals of removed and ragged hours,
That with unreverend mouths call'd me Slave Geta?
2 Lict. You must forget their names; your honour bids ye.
Get. I do forget; but I'le hang their natures:
I will ascend my place, which is of Justice;
And mercy, I forget thee.
Suitor. A rare Magistrate!
Another Solon sure.
Get. Bring out the offenders.
1 Lict. There are none yet, Sir, but no doubt there will be.
But if you please touch some things of those natures.
Get. And am I ready, and mine anger too?
The melancholy of a Magistrate upon me,
And no offenders to execute my fury?
Ha? no offenders, knaves?
1 Lict. There are knaves indeed, Sir,
But we hope shortly to have 'em for your worship.
Get. No men to hang or whip? are you good officers,
That provide no fuel for a Judges fury?
In this place something must be done; this Chair, I tell ye,
When I sit down, must savour of Severitie:
Therefore I warn ye all, bring me lewd people,
Or likely to be lewd; twigs must be cropt too:
Let me have evil persons in abundance,
Or make 'em evil; 'tis all one, do but say so,
That I may have fit matter for a Magistrate;
And let me work. If I sit empty once more,
And lose my longing, as I am true Edile,
And as I hope to rectifie my Countrie,
You are those scabs I will scratch off from the Commonwealth,
You are these Rascals of the State I treat of,
And you shall find and feel.—
2 Lict. You shall have many,
Many notorious people.