SCENE VI.-Camp before FLORENCE. 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, hold me no more in your respect. 1 Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble. 1 Lord. Believe it, my lord, in 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 ment. 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. 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 hoodwink him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is Icarried into the 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 judgment in anything. 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 PAROLLES. 1 Lord. 0, 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: to charge in with our horse upon our own 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 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. [Erit 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 me. 1 Lord. As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. [Exit. Ber. Now will I lead you to the house, and shew you The lass I spoke of. 2 Lord. But you say she's honest. Ber. That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once, And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature; 2 Lord. With all my heart, my lord. [Exeunt. SCENE VII.-FLORENCE. A Room in the Widow's House. Enter HELENA and Widow. He. If you misdoubt me that I am not she, I know not how I shall assure you further, But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. Wid. Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, Nothing acquainted with these businesses; And would not put my reputation now In any staining act. Hel. Nor would I wish you. First, give me trust, the count he is my husband; ' Err in bestowing it. Wid. I should believe you; For you have shew'd me that which well approves You are great in fortune. Hd. Take this purse of gold, And let me buy your friendly help thus far, When I have found it. The count he wooes your daugh 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, [ter, 1 Lord. But what linsey-woolsey 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. Enter PAROLLES. 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 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. Par. Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in stratagem. [Aside. 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. 'Twould not do. [Aside. Par. Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. 1 Lord. Hardly serve. [Aside Par. Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel 1 Lord. Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. [A side. Par. I would I had any drum of the enemy's; I would swear I had recovered it. 1 Lord. You shall hear one anon. [Aside. Par. A drum now of the enemy's! [Alarum within. 1 Lord. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All. Cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo. 1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos. I will discover that which shall undo The Florentine. 1 Sold. Boskos vaurado: I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue :— Kerelybonto:-Sir, Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards Are at thy bosom. Par. Oh! 1 Sold. O, pray, pray, pray!— Manka revania dulche. 1 Lord. Oscorbi dulchos volivorca. 1 Sold. The general is content to spare thee yet; And, hood-wink'd as thou art, will lead thee on To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform Something to save thy life. Par. O, let me live! And all the secrets of our camp I'll shew, 1 Sold But wilt thou faithfully? 1 Sold. Acordo linta. Come on, thou art granted space. [Exit, with PAROLLES guarded. 1 Lord. Go, tell the count Rousillon, and my brother, We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled Till we do hear from them. My mother did but duty; such, my lord, Ber. No more of that! I pr'ythee, do not strive against my vows: By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever Dia. Ay, so you serve us, Till we serve you: but when you have our roses, You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves, And mock us with our bareness. 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. What is not holy, that we swear not by, But take the Highest to witness: then, pray you, tell me I loved you dearly, would you believe my oths, That I will work against him: therefore, your oaths 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, Dia. Mine honour's such a ring: Ber. Here, take my ring: My house, mine honour, yea, my life be thine, [window; Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber May token to the future our past deeds. Ber. A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. [Exit. Dia. For which live long to thank both heaven and You may so in the end.me! My mother told me just how he would woo, As if she sat in his heart; she says, all men 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 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. 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 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 meantime, what hear you of these wars? 2 Lord. I hear there is an overture of peace. 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 counsel. 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 i 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 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 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 congéed with the duke, done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my lady mother 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 double-meaning prophesier. 2 Lord. Bring him forth: [Exeunt Soldiers.] he has sat in the stocks all night, poor gailant 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 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 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 phase,) that had the whole theoric of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger. 2 Lord. I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword clean; nor believe he can have everything 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 he belivers it. Par. Poor rogues, I pray you, say. 1 Sold. Well, that's set down. Par. I humbly thank you, Sr: a truth's a truth, the rogues are marvellous poor. 1 Sold. "Demand of him what strength they are afoot." 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, Corainbus so many, Jaques so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred and 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 i' 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 inter'gatories: 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 getting the sheriff's fool with child; a dumb innocent, that could not say him nay. [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 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! 1 Sold. "When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, After he scores, he never pays the score: [and take it; Half won is match well made; match, and well make it; 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 it. Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear, "PAROLLES." Ber. He shall be whipped through the army, with this rhyme in his forehead. 2 Lord. This is your devoted friend, Sir, the manifold linguist, and the armipotent soldier. Ber. I could endure anything before but a cat, and now he's a cat to me. 1 Sold. I perceive, Sir, by the general's looks, we shall be fain to hang you. Par. My life, Sir, in any case! not that I am afraid to die; but that, my offences being many, I would repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, Sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or anywhere, so I may live. 1 Sold. We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; therefore, once more to this captain Dumain. You have answered to his reputation with the duke, and to his valour: what is his honesty? He pro Par. He will steal, Sir, an egg out of a cloister; for rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus. fesses not keeping of oaths; in breaking them, he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie, Sir, with such volubility, that you would think truth were a fool: drunkenness is his best virtue; for he will be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I have but little more to say, Sir, of his honesty he has everything that an honest man should not have; what an honest man should have, he has nothing. 1 Lord. I begin to love him for this. Ber. For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon him for me, he is more and more a cat. 1 Sold. What say you to his expertness in war? Par. Faith, Sir, he has led the drum before the English tragedians,-to belie him, I will not,-and more of his soldiership I know not; except, in that country, he had the honour to be the officer at a place there called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of files. I would do the man what honour I can, but of this I am not certain. 1 Lord. He hath out-villained villany so far, that the rarity redeems him. Ber. A pox on him! he's a cat still 1 Sold. His qualities being at this poor price, I need not ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt. Par. Sir, for a quart d'eru he will sell the fee-simple of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the entail from all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it perpetually. 1 Sold. What's his brother, the other captain Dumain? 2 Lord. Why does he ask him of me? 1 Sold. What's he? Par. E'en a crow of the same nest; not altogether so great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming on he has the cramp. 1 Sold. If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine? Par. Ay, and the captain of his horse, count Rou sillon. 1 Sold. I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. Par. I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to begude the supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run into this danger: yet, who would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? [Aside 1 Sold. These is no remedy, Sir, but you must die: the general says, you, that have so traitorously discovered the secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no honest use; therefore you must die.-Come, headsman, off with his head. Par. O Lord, Sir, let me live, or let me see my death! 1 Sold. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. {Unmugling him. So look about you; know you any here? 2 Lord. God bless you, captain Parolles. 1 Lord. God save you, noble captain. 2 Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my lord Lafeu? I am for France. 1 Lord. Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the count Rousillon? an I were not a very coward, I'd compel it of you; but fare you well. [Exeunt BERTRAM, Lords, de. 1 Sold. You are undone, captain: all but your scarf, that has a knot on't yet. Par. Who cannot be crushed with a plot? 1 Sold. If you could find out a country where but women were that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare you well. Sir; 1 am for France too; we shall speak of you there. [Exit. Par. Yet am I thankful; if my heart were great, 'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall: simply the thing I am Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, [Exit. SCENE IV.-FLORENCE. A Room in the Widow's House. Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA. Hel. That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd One of the greatest in the Christian world [you, shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne, 'tis needful, Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: Time was I did him a desired office, Dear almost as his life; which gratitude Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, And answer, thanks: I duly am inforin'd, His grace is at Marseilles; to which place We have convenient convoy. You must know, I am supposed dead: the army breaking, My husband hies him home; where, heaven aid ng, Wid. Gentle Madam, You never had a servant, to whose trust Your business was more welcome. Hel. Nor you, mistress, Ever a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour And helper to a husband. But, O strange men! Dia. Let death and honesty Hel. Yet, I pray you,— But, with the word, the time will bring on summer, All's well that ends well;" still the fine's the crown; Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. [Exeunt. Lof. What prince is that? Clo. The black prince, Sir; alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil. Laf. Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; serve him still. Cio. I am a woodland fellow, Sir, that always loved a great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the world; let his nobility remain in his court. I am for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to enter: some that humble themselves may; but the many will be too chill and tender; and they'll be for the flowery way that leads to the broad gate and the great fire. Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be a-weary of thee; and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well looked to, without any tricks. Clo. If I put any tricks upon 'em, Sir, thev shall be |