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sieur, if you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument of honour again into his native quarter, be magnanimous in the en-. terprise, 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*, encou. rage myself in my certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation, and, by midnight, look to hear further from me.
Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his grace, you are gone about it?
Par. I know not what the success will 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.
[Exit. 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 himt, 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 you. [Exit. Ber. Now will I lead you to the house, and show you The last I spoke of. 2 Lord. But, you say, she's honest. Ber. That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once, [her, 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;
SCENE VII. Florence. A Room in the
Enter HELENA and Widow.
Hel. If you misdoubt me that I am not she
Nor would I wish you.
And, what to your sworn counsel
Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,
The bottom of your purpose.
Hel. You see it lawful then: It is no more,
I will pen down my plans and the probable obstructions. + Hunted him down.
SCENE I. Without the Florentine Camp. Enter first Lord, with five or six Soldiers in ambush.
1 Lord. He can come no other way but by 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 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 of his own fancy, not to know what we speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to know straight our purpose: chough's + language, gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges.
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 fool-hardy; but my heart hath the fear of Mars before 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 I 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? [Aside. Par. I would the cutting of my garments 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. e., Foreign troops in the enemy's pay.
Par. O ransome, ransome :-Do not hide mine eyes.
[They seize him and blindfold him.
Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards
Come on, thou art granted space.
[Exit, with PAROLI.ES, guarded. 1 Lord. Go, tell the count Rousillon, and my brother,
We have caught the woodcock, and will keep
1 Lord. He will betray us all unto ourInform 'em that. [selves;
2 Sold. So I will, sir.
1 Lord. Till then, I'll keep him dark, and safely lock'd.
+ A bird like a jack-daw.
SCENE II. Florence. A Room in the
Enter BERTRAM and DIANA.
So should you be.
No: My mother did but duty; such, my lord, As you owe to your wife.
No more of that!
I pr'ythee, do not strive against my vows:
But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.
If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,
Are words, and poor conditions; but unseal'd;
Mine honour's such a ring:
Which were the greatest obloquy i'the world
When back again this ring shall be deliver'd:
[Exit. Dia. For which live long to thank both You may so in the end.- [heaven and me! My mother told me just how he would woo, As if she sat in his heart; she says, all men Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry
Marry that will, I'll live and die a maid:
1 Lord. You have not given him his mo ther'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
* i. e., Against his determined resolution never to cohabit with Helena. The sense is we never swear by what is not holy, but take to witness the Highest,
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*.
1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable † in us, to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company to-night? 2 Lord. Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour.
1 Lord. That approaches apace: I would gladly have him see his company ‡ anatomized; that he might take a measure of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit.
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.
1 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.
1 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 cherished 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 lord
ship 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 commend. Enter BERTRAM.
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-piece, 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 mo. ther, I 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 spurs || 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 pa tience 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?
Pur. I will confess what I know without constraint; if ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.
1 Sold. Boscho 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.
+ Here, as elsewhere, used adverbially. ý Model, pattern.
knight by hacking off his spurs.
1 Sold. First demand of him how many horse the duke is strong. What say you to that?
1 Sold. Do you know this captain Dumain? Par. I know him: he was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, from whence he was whipPar. Five or six thousand; but very weak ped for getting the sheriff's fool ¶ with child; and unserviceable: the troops are all scata dumb innocent **, that could not say him, tered, and the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live.
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. What a past-saving slave is this!
1 Lord. You are deceived, my lord; this is monsieur Parolles, the gallant militarist, (that was his own phrase,) that had the whole theorick of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practice in the chapet 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,I 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 be delivers it.
Par. 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 t, 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 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.
[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.
1 Sold. Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp?
Par. Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.
1 Lord. Nay, look not so upon me; we shall hear of your lordship anon.
1 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.
Par. 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.
1 Lord. Excellently.
1 Sold. Dian. The count's a fool, and full of gold,
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 allurement of one count Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but, for all that, very ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again.
1 Sold. Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour.
Par. My meaning in 't, I protest, was very honest in the behalf of the maid: for I knew the young count to be a dangerous and lascivious boy; who is a whale to virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.
Ber. Damnable, both sides rogue! I Sold. When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;
After he scores, he never pays the score: Half won is match well made; match, and well make it tt;
He ne'er pays after debts, take it before; And say, a soldier, Dian, told thee this, Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss: For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it,
Who pays before, but not when he does owe Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine car, PAROLLES.
Ber. He shall be whipped through the army, with this rhyme in his forehead, 2 Lord. This is your devoted friend, sir, Cassock then signified a horse For interrogatories. ** A natural fool.
The point of the scabbard.
man's loose coat.
i. c. A match well made is half won: make your match therefore, but make it well.