POMPEY.
Groping for trouts in a peculiar river.
BAWD.
What? Is there a maid with child by him?
POMPEY.
No, but there’s a woman with maid by him. You have not heard of the proclamation, have you?
BAWD.
What proclamation, man?
POMPEY.
All houses in the suburbs of Vienna must be plucked down.
BAWD.
And what shall become of those in the city?
POMPEY.
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?
POMPEY.
To the ground, mistress.
BAWD.
Why, here’s a change indeed in the commonwealth! What shall become of me?