1st Master. The pander is more dangerous to a State,
Than is the common thief; and though our laws
Lie heavier on the thief, yet that the pander
May know the hangman’s ruff should fit him too,
Therefore he’s set to beat hemp.
Duke. This does savour
Of justice; basest slaves to basest labour.
Now pray, set open hell, and let us see
The she-devils that are here.
Inf. Methinks this place
Should make e’en Lais honest.
1st Mast. Some it turns good,
But as some men, whose hands are once in blood,
Do in a pride spill more, so, some going hence,
Are, by being here, lost in more impudence.
Let it not to them, when they come, appear
That any one does as their judge sit here:
But that as gentlemen you come to see,
And then perhaps their tongues will walk more free.
Duke. Let them be marshalled in.—[Exeunt 1st and 2nd Masters, Constable, and Beadles.]—Be covered all, Fellows, now to make the scene more comical.
Car. Will not you be smelt out, Bots?
Bots. No, your bravest whores have the worse noses.
Re-enter 1st and 2nd Masters and Constable, then Dorothea Target, brave[317]; after her two Beadles, the one with a wheel, the other with a blue gown.
Lod. Are not you a bride, forsooth?