DUKE.
And you.
LUCIO.
Does Bridget paint still, Pompey, ha?
ELBOW.
Come your ways, sir, come.
POMPEY.
You will not bail me then, sir?
LUCIO.
Then, Pompey, nor now.—What news abroad, friar? What news?
ELBOW.
Come your ways, sir, come.
LUCIO.
Go to kennel, Pompey, go.
[Exeunt Elbow, Pompey and Officers.]
What news, friar, of the Duke?
DUKE.
I know none. Can you tell me of any?