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Hel. How do you mean?
Wid. He does, indeed;
And brokes with all that can in such a suit
Enter with drum and colours, a party of the
Wid. So, now they come :-
Hel. Which is the Frenchman?
2 Lord. None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do.
1 Lord. I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly surprise him; such I will have, whom, I am sure, he knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hood-wink him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is carried into the Flo-leaguer* of the adversaries, when we bring him to our tents: Be but your lordship present at his examination; if he do not, for the promise of his life, and in the highest compulsion of base fear, offer to betray you, and deliver all the intelligence in his power against you, and that with the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never trust my judgement in any thing.
That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fel-
Hel. I like him well.
Dia. "Tis pity, he is not honest: Yond's that
That leads him to these places; were I his
Hel. Which is he?
Dia. That jack-an-apes with scarfs: Why is
Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'the battle.
Par. Lose our drum! well.
2 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; he says, he has a stratagem for't: when your lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be melted, if you give him not John Drum's entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes. Enter PAROLLles.
1 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not the humour of his design; let him fetch off his drum in any hand.
Ber. How now, monsieur? this drum sticks sorely in your disposition.
2 Lord. A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. Par. But a drum! Is't but a drum? A drum so lost!-There was an excellent command.
Mar. He's shrewdly vexed at something: to charge in with our horse upon our own Look, he has spied us.
Wid. Marry, hang you!
Wid. The troop is past: Come, pilgrim, I
Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents
Hel. I humbly thank you:
Please it this matron, and this gentle maid,
Shall be for me; and, to requite you further,
Both. We'll take your offer kindly. [Exeunt.
SCENE VI.-Camp before Florence. Enter BERTRAM, and the two French LORDS. 1 Lord. Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his way.
2 Lord. If your lordship find him not a hilding,t hold me no more in your respect.
1 Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble.
1 Lord. Believe it, my lord, în mine own direct knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him as my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's entertain
2 Lord. It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might, at some great and trusty business, in a main danger, fail you.
Ber. I would, I knew in what particular action to try him.
wings, and to rend our own soldiers.
2 Lord. That was not to be blamed in the command of the service; it was a disaster of war that Cæsar himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to command.
Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some dishonour we had in the loss of
that drum; but it is not to be recovered
Par. It might have been recovered
Par. It is to be recovered: but that the merit of service is seldom attributed to the true and exact performer, I would have that drum or another, or hic jacet.†
Ber. Why, if you have a stomach to't, monsieur, if you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument of honour again into his native quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprise, and go on; I will grace the attempt for a worthy exploit; if you speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it, and extend to you what further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your worthiness.
Par. By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it.
Ber. But you must not now slumber in it. Par. I'll about it this evening: and I will presently pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my certainty, put myself into my hear further from me. mortal preparation, and, by midnight, look to
Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his grace, you are gone about it?
Par. I know not what the success may be, my lord; but the attempt I vow.
Ber. I know, thou art valiant; and, to the possibility of thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell.
Par. I love not many words.
+I would recover the lost drum or another, or die in the attempt.
I will pen down my plans and the probable obstruc
1 Lord. No more than a fish loves water.-Is not this a strange fellow, my lord? that so confidently seems to undertake this business, which he knows is not to be done; damns himself to do, and dares better be damned than to do't.
2 Lord. You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it is, that he will steal himself into a man's favour, and, for a week, escape a great deal of discoveries; but when you find him out, you have him ever after.
Ber. Why, do you think, he will make no deed at all of this, that so seriously he does address himself unto?
1 Lord. None in the world; but return with an invention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we have almost embossed him, you shall see his fall to-night; for, indeed, he is not for your lordship's respect.
2 Lord. We'll make you some sport with the fox, ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very night. 1 Lord. I must go look my twigs; he shall be caught.
Ber. Your brother, he shall go along with
1 Lord. As't please your lordship: I'll leave
2 Lord. But, you say, she's honest.
And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to
By this same coxcomb that we have i'the wind,
Tokens and letters which she did re-send;
2 Lord. With all my heart, my lord.
[Exeunt. SCENE VIJ.-Florence.-A Room in the WIDOW'S House.
Enter HELENA and WIDOW.
Nothing acquainted with these businesses;
Now his important blood will nought deny
Wid. Now I see
The bottom of your purpose.
Hel. You see it lawful then: It is no more,
Wid. I have yielded:
Hel. Why then, to-night
Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed,
SCENE 1.-Without the Florentine Camp. Enter first LORD, with five or six Soldiers in ambush.
this hedge' corner: When you sally upon him, speak what terrible language you will; though you understand it not yourselves, no matter: for we must not seem to understand him; unless some one among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter.
1 Lord. He can come no other way but by
1 Sold. Good captain, let me be the interpreter.
1 Lord. Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice?
1 Sold. No, Sir, I warrant you.
1 Lord. But what linsy-woolsy hast thou to speak to us again?
1 Sold. Even such as you speak to me.
1 Lord. He must think us some band of strangers i'the adversary's entertainment.§ Now he hath a smack of all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every one be a man Hel. Nor would I wish you. of his own fancy, not to know what we speak First, give me trust, the count he is my hus-one to another; so we seem to know, is to band; [ken, know straight our purpose: chough's lanAnd, what to your sworn counsel I have spo- guage, gabble enough, and good enough. As Is so, from word to word; and then you can- for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. not, But couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges.
By the good aid that I of you shall borrow,
Wid. I should believe you;
For you have show'd me that, which well ap-
Hel. Take this purse of gold,
Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,
* Hunted him down. + Before we strip him naked.
Par. Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be time enough to go home. What shall I say I have done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries it: They begin to smoke me; and disgraces have of late knocked too often at my door. I find, my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the fear of Mars be* Importunate. + I. e. Count. 1 From under our windows. I.e Foreign troops in the enemy's pay. A bird like a jack-daw.
fore it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of my tongue.
1 Lord. This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue was guilty of.
[Aside. Par. What the devil should move me to undertake the recovery of this drum; being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I must give myself some hurts, and say, I got them in exploit: Yet slight ones will not carry it: They will say, Came you off with so little? and great ones dare not give. Wherefore? what's the instance? Tongue, I must put you into a butter-woman's mouth, and buy another of Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. 1 Lord. Is it possible, he should know what he is, and be that he is? Par. I would the cutting of my garments [Aside. would serve the turn; or the breaking of my Spanish sword.
1 Lord. We cannot afford you so. [Aside. Par. Or the baring of my beard; and to say, it was in stratagem.
1 Lord. "Twould not do.
Par. Or to drown my clothes, and say, stripped.
1 Lord. Hardly serve.
Par. Though I swore I leaped from the win
dow of the citadel
1 Lord. How deep? Par. Thirty fathom.
1 Lord. You shall hear one anon. Par. A drum now of the enemy's!
1 Lord. Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. Par. I would, I had any drum of the enemy's; [Aside. I would swear, I recovered it. [Aside. [Alarum within. 1 Lord. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All. Cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo. Par. O! ransom, ransom :-Do not hide mine eyes. [They seize him and blindfold him. 1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos. Par. I know you are the Muskos' regiment. And I shall lose my life for want of language: If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, Italian, or French, let him speak to me, I will discover that which shall undo The Florentine.
1 Sold. Boskos vauvado :
I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue :Kerelybonto:- -Sir,
Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards Are at thy bosom.
And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, Their force, their purposes: nay, Ill speak that Which you will wonder at.
1 Sold. But wilt thou faithfully?
Par. If I do not, damn me.
1 Sold. Acordo linta.
Come on, thou art granted space.
[Exit, with PAROLLES guarded.
1 Lord. Go, tell the count Rousillon, and my brother, [him muffled, We have caught the woodcock, and will keep
* The proof.
Enter BERTRAM and DIANA.
Ber. They told me, that your name was
Dia. No, my good lord, Diana.
In your fine frame hath love no quality?
Dia. She then was honest.
Ber. So should you be.
My mother did but duty; such, my lord, As you owe to your wife.
Ber. No more of that!
I was compelled to her; but I love thee
Ber. How have I sworn?
Dia. "Tis not the many oaths that make the truth;
But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true. But take the Highest to witness:t Then, pray What is not holy, that we swear not by,
you, tell me,
If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,
Are words, and poor conditions; but unseal'd; At least, in my opinion.
Ber. Change it, change it; Be not so holy cruel: love is holy; And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts, But give thyself unto my sick desires, That do charge men with: Stand no more Who then recover: say, thou art mine, and ever My love, as it begins, shall so persever.
Dia. I see, that men make hopes, in such affairs, [ring. That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that Ber. I'll lend it thee, my dear, but have no
To give it from me.
Dia. Will you not, my lord?
Ber. It is an honour 'longing to our house, Bequeathed down from many ancestors: Which were the greatest obloquy i'the world In me to lose.
Dia. Mine honour's such a ring:
My chastity's the jewel of our house,
Ber. Here, take my ring:
My house, mine honour, yea, my life be thine,
Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my
I'll order take, my mother shall not hear.
When back again this ring shall be deliver❜d:
My mother told me just how he would woo,
Marry that will, I'll live and die a maid:
SCENE III.-The Florentine Camp.
1 Lord. You have not given him his mother's letter?
2 Lord. I have delivered it an hour since: there is something in't that stings his nature; for, on the reading it, he changed almost into another man.
1 Lord. He has much worthy blame laid upon him, for shaking off so good a wife, and So sweet a lady.
2 Lord. Especially he hath incurred the everlasting displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you.
1 Lord. When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the grave of it.
2 Lord. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition.
1 Lord. Now, God delay our rebellion; as we are ourselves, what things are we! 2 Lord. Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of all treasons, we still see them reveal themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends; so he, that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in his proper
stream o'erflows himself.t
1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable‡ in us, to
be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We
1 Lord. That approaches apace: I would
2 Lord. We will not meddle with him till he come; for his presence must be the whip of the other.
1 Lord. In the mean time, what hear you of these wars?
2 Lord. I hear, there is an overture of peace. 1 Lord. Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
2 Lord. What will count Rousillon do then? will he travel higher, or return again into France?
1 Lord. I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether of his council.
2 Lord. Let it be forbid, Sir! so should I be a great deal of his act.
I Lord. Sir, his wife, some two months since, fled from his house; her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le grand; which holy undertaking, with most austere sanctimony, she accomplished: and, there residing, the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven. 2 Lord. How is this justified?
1 Lord. The stronger part of it by her own letters; which makes her story true, even to the point of her death: her death itself, which could not be her office to say, is come, was faithfully confirmed by the rector of the place. 2 Lord. Hath the count all this intelligence?
1 Lord. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, to the full arming of the verity.
2 Lord. I am heartily sorry, that he'll be glad of this.
1 Lord. How mightily, sometimes, we make us comforts of our losses!
2 Lord. And how mightily, some other times, we drown our gain in tears! The great dignity, that his valour hath here acquired for him, shall at home be encountered with a shame as ample.
Lord. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherish'd by our virtues.—
Enter a SERVANT.
How now? where's your master?
Serv. He met the duke in the street, Sir, of whom he hath taken a solemn leave; his lordship will next morning for France. The duke hath offered him letters of commendations to the king.
2 Lord. They shall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can com
1 Lord. They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. Here's his lordship now. How now my lord, is't not after midnight?
Ber. I have to-night despatched sixteen businesses, a month's length a-peice, by an abstract
of success: I have conge'd with the duke, done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my lady mother, II am returning; entertained my convoy; and, between these main parcels of despatch, effected many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but that I have not ended yet.
2 Lord. If the business be of any difficulty, and this morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your lordship.
Ber. I mean the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it hereafter: But shall we have this dialogue between the fool and the soldier?- -Come, bring forth this counterfeit module; he has deceived me, like a doublemeaning prophesier.
2 Lord. Bring him forth: [Exeunt SOLDIERS.] he has sat in the stocks all night, poor gallant knave.
Ber. No matter; his heels have deserved it, in usurping his spurst so long. How does he carry himself?
1 Lord. I have told your lordship already; the stocks carry him. But, to answer you as you would be understood; he weeps, like a wench that had shed her milk: he hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance, to this very instant disaster of his setting i'the stocks: And what think you he hath confessed?
Ber. Nothing of me, has he?
2 Lord. His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his face: if your lordship be in't, as, I believe you are, you must have the patience to hear it.
Re-enter SOLDIERS, with PAROLLES. Ber. A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of me; hush! hush!
1 Lord. Hoodman comes!-Porto tartarossa. 1 Sold. He calls for the tortures; What will you say without 'em?
Par. I will confess what I know without constraint; if ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.
1 Sold. Bosko chimurcho.
2 Lord. Boblibindo chicurmurco.
1 Sold. You are a merciful general :-Our general bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.
Par. And truly, as I hope to live.
1 Sold. First demand of him how many horse the duke is strong. What say you to that?
Par. Five or six thousand; but very weak and unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to
1 Sold. Shall I set down your answer so? Par. Do; I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will. Ber. All's one to him. slave is this!
What a past-saving
1 Lord. You are deceived, my lord; this is monsieur Parolles, the gallant militarist, (that was his own phrase,) that had the whole theorict of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practice in the chapes of his dagger.
2 Lord. I will never trust a man again, for keeping his sword clean; nor believe he can have every thing in him, by wearing his apparel neatly.
1 Sold. Well, that's set down. Par. Five or six thousand horse, I said,will say true,-or thereabouts, set down,for I'll speak truth.
1 Lord. He's very near the truth in this. Ber. But I con him no thanks for❜t, in the nature he delivers it.
Pur. Poor rogues, I pray you, say. 1 Sold. Well, that's set down. Par. I humbly thank you, Sir: a truth's a truth, the rogues are marvellous poor.
1 Sold. Demand of him, of what strength they are a-foot. What say you to that?
Par. By my troth, Sir, if I were to live this present hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio a hundred and fifty, Sebastian so many, Corambus so many, Jaques so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred fifty each: mine own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand poll: half of which dare not shake the snow from off their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces. Ber. What shall be done to him?
1 Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my conditions, and what credit I have with the duke.
1 Sold. Well, that's set down. You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain be 'the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is with the duke, what his valour, honesty, and expertness in wars; or whether he thinks, it were not possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to corrupt him to a revolt. What say you to this? what do you know of it?
Par. I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of the intergatories: Demand them singly.
1 Sold. Do you know this captain Dumain? Par. I know him: he was a botcher's prentice in Paris, from whence he was whipped for innocent, that could not say him, nay. getting the sheriff's fools with child; a dumb
[DUMAIN lifts up his hand in anger. Ber. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know, his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.
Par. Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.
Sold. What is his reputation with the duke? Par. The duke knows him for no other but a
poor officer of mine; and writ to me this other day, to turn him out o'the band: I think, I have his letter in my pocket.
1 Sold. Marry, we'll search.
Pur. In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, or it is upon a file, with the duke's other letters, in my tent.
1 Sold. Here 'tis; here's a paper? Shall I read it to you?
Par. I do not know, if it be it, or no.
Ber. Our interpreter does it well.
1 Sold. Dian. The count's a fool, and full of
Par. That is not the duke's letter, Sir; that is an advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to take heed of the allure
*Cassock then signified a horseman's loose coat.