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 its native quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprize, 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 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. 1 Lord. No more than a fish loves water. - Is [Exit. not this a strange fellow, iny lord? that so confdently seems to undertake this business, which he knows is not to be done.

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 5; 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 me. 1 Lord. As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. [Exit. Ber. Now will I lead you to the house, and show

Nor would I wish you. First give me trust, the count he is my husband; And, what to your sworn counsel I have spoken, Is so, from word to word; and then you cannot, By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, Err in bestowing it. I should believe you; For you have show'd me that, which well approves You are great in fortune.

Wid.

Hel.

Take this purse of gold,
Which I will over-pay, and pay again,
And let me buy your friendly help thus far,
When I have found it. The count he wooes your
daughter,

Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,
Resolves to carry her; let her, in fine, consent,
As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it,
That she'll demand: A ring the county 8 wears,
Now his important 7 blood will nought deny
That downward hath succeeded in his house,
Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds
From son to son, some four or five descents
In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire,
To buy his will, it would not seem too dear,
Howe'er repented after.

Wid.

Now I see

The bottom of your purpose.

But that your daughter, ere she seems as won,
Hel. You see it lawful then: It is no more,
Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter;
In fine, delivers me to fill the time,
Herself most chastely absent: after this,
To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns
To what is past already.
Wid.
I have yielded :
That time and place, with this deceit so lawful,
Instruct my daughter how she shall perséver,
May prove coherent. Every night he comes
With musicks of all sorts, and songs compos'd
To her unworthiness: It nothing steads us,
To chide him from our eaves; for he persists,
As if his life lay on't.

Hel.
Why then to-night
Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed,
Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed,
And lawful meaning in a lawful act;
Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact:
But let's about it.

7 Importunate.

[Exeunt.

8 Count.

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. 9 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. for you, interpreter, you must seem very politick. But couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges.

Enter PAROLLES.

As

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.

[Asule. Par. What the devil should move me to under

take 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.

1 Lord. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All. Cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo. Par. O! ransome, ransome : — -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.

Par.

1 Sold.

Oh!

Manka revania dulche.

1 Lord.

O, pray, pray, pray.

Oscorbi dulchos volivorca.

House.

Enter BERTRAM and DIANA.

Ber. They told me, that your name was Fontibell. Dia. No, my good lord, Diana.

Ber.

2 The proof.

Dia. 'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth; But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true, What is not holy, that we swear not by,

SCENE III. - The Florentine Camp.

[Exit.

Enter the two French Lords, and two or three Soldiers.

1 Lord. You have not given him his mother's letter?

2 Lord. I have delivered it an hour since

there

tell me,

If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,

I lov'd you dearly, would you believe my oaths,
When I did love you ill? this has no holding,
To swear by him whom I protest to love,
That I will work against him: Therefore, your oaths,
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,
That you do charge men with: Stand no more off,
But give thyself unto my sick desires,
Who then recover: say, thou art mine, and ever
My love, as it begins, shall so perséver.

Dia. I see, that men make hopes, in such affairs, That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. Ber. I'll lend it thee, my dear, but have no

power

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,
Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
Which were the greatest obloquy i'the world
In me to lose: Thus your own proper wisdom
Brings in the champion honour on my part,
Against your vain assault.

Ber.
Here, take my ring:
My house, mine honour, yea, my life be thine,
And I'll be bid by thee.

Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber window;

I'll order take, my mother shall not hear.
Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
Remain then but an hour nor speak to me :
My reasons are most strong; and you shall know
them,

When back again this ring shall be deliver'd:
And on your finger, in the night I'll put
Another ring; that, what in time proceeds,
May token to the future our past deeds.
Adieu, till then; then fail not: You have won
A wife of me, though there my hope be done.

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; he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition.

1 Lord. Now, heaven 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.

1 Lord. Is it not meant confoundedly in us, to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company to-night?

2 Lord. Not till after midnight.

1 Lord. That approaches apace: I would gladly have him see his company anatomised; 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: