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2 Lord. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence, of a most chaste renown; and 20 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!

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 confirm'd 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 gin in tears! The great dignity, that his valour hath here acquired for him, shall at home be encounter'd 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, f our faults whipp'd 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 25 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.

2 Lord. Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of all trea-ons, we still see them reveal themselves, till they attain to their abhorr'd ends; so he, that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in his proper stream o'er 30 flows 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 35 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 judgment, 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 >

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2 Lord. I hear there is an overture of peace. 1 Lord. Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. 2 Lord. What willcount Rousillon do then? will he travel higher, or return again into France ? 1 Lord. I perceive by this demand, you are not 50 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 55 to Saint Jaques le grand; which holy undertaking, with most austere sanctimony, she accomplish'd: and, there residing, the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made al groan of her last breath, and now she sings in 60

heaven.

2 Lord. How is this justified?

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 dispatch'd 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, mourn'd for her; writ to my lady mother, I am returning; entertain'd my convoy; and, between these main parcels of dispatch, 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 deceiv'd me like a double-meaning prophesier.

2 Lord. Bring him forth: he hath sat in the stocks all night, poor gallant knave.

Ber. No matter; his heels have deserv'd 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 confess'd hin.self to Morgan, whom he supposes to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance, to this very instant disaster of his sitting i' the stocks: And what, think you, he hath confest?

The meaning is, betrays his own secrets in his own talk.

Module means pattern.

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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 Parolies. Ber. A plague upon him! mutiled! he can say nothing of me; hush! hush!

1 Lord. Hoodman comes!--Porto tartarossa. Inter. 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.

Inter. Bosko chimurcho.

2 Lord. Boblibindo chicurmurco. Inter. You are a merciful general:-Ourgeneral bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. Pur. And truly, as I hope to live

Inter. "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 scatter'd, and the commanders very poor rogues; upon my reputa-] tion and credit, and as I hope to live.

Inter. Shall I set down your answer so? Par. Do; I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will: all's one to him'.

Ber. What a past-saving slave is this!

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1 Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my conditions, and what credit I have with the duke.

Inter. Well, that's set down. "You shall de"mand 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 10" gold to corrupt him to a revolt." What say you to this? what do you know of it?

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1 Lord. You are deceiv'd, my lord; this is monsieur Parolles, the gallant militarist, (that was 30 his own phrase) that had the whole theorique 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 every 35 thing in him, by wearing his apparel neatly. Inter. Well, that's set down.

Par. Five or six thousand horse, I said,—I will say true, or thereabouts, set down,-for I'l 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.

Par. Poor rogues, I pray you, say.
Inter. Well, that's set down.

Par. I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the rogues are marvellous poor.

Inter. " Demand of him, of what strength they are afoot." What say you to that?

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Par. I beseech you, let me answer to the par ticular of the interrogatories: Demand them singly. Inter. Do you know this captain Dumain? Par. I know him: he was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, from whence he was whipp'd 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 Iknow, his brains are forfeit to the nexttile thatfalls. Inter. 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.

Inter. 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 the other day, to turn him out o' the band: I think, I have his letter in my pocket.

Inter. 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.

Inter. Here 'tis; here's a paper; Shall I read it to you?

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Par. I do not know, if it be it, or no.

Ber. Our interpreter does it well.

1 Lord. Excellently.

Inter. "Dian. The count's a fool, and full of gold,"

Pur. That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, 45 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.

Par. By my troth, sir, if I were to live this 50 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 55 hundred and nity each; so that the muster file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand poll'; half of the which dare not shake the snow from off their cassocks', lest they shake themselves to pieces.

Ber. What shall be done to him?

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Inter. 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 ! Interpreter reads the letter. "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 ;

"Ile ne'er pays after-debts, take it before;

The words "all's one to him" seem to belong to another speaker, and appear to be a proper remark of Bertram's upon Parolles's assertion. i. e. I am not obliged to him for it. To con is to

know.

3 Cassock signifies a horseman's loose coat.

"And say, a soldier, Dian, told thee this,
"Men are to mell with', boys are but 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,

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"PAROLLES."

Ber. He shall be whipp'd through the army, with this rhime in his forehead.

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2 Lord. Why does he ask him of me?
Inter. 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 lacquey; marry, in coming on he has the cramp.

Inter. If your life be saved, will you undertake

2 Lord. This is your devoted friend, sir, the 10 to betray the Florentine ? manifold linguist, and the armipotent soldier.

Ber. I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now he's a cat to me.

Inter. I perceive, sir, by our 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 any where, so I may live.

Inter. We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; therefore, once more to this captain Dumain: You have answer'd to his reputation with the duke, and to his valour; What is his honesty?

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Par. Ay, and the captain of his horse, count Rousillon.

Inter. 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 beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run into this danger: Yet, who would have suspected an ambush where I 20 was taken? [Aside.

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Pur. He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister; for rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus. He professes no keeping of oaths; in breaking them, he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie, sir,| with such volubility, that you would think truth 30 were a fool: drunkenness is bis best virtue; for he will be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little harm, save to his bed-cloaths about him; but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I have but little more to say, sir, of his honesty :35 he has every thing 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 40 pox upon him for me, he is more and more a cat.

Inter. 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 45 country, he had the honour to be the officer at a place there call'd 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-villain'd villainy so far, 50 that the rarity redeems him.

Ber. A pox on him! he's a cat still. Inter. His qualities being at this poor price, I need not to ask you, if gold will corrupt him to revolt.

Par. Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the feesimple of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the intail from all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it perpetually.

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Inter. What's his brother, the other captain 60 Dumain?

Inter. There is no remedy,sir,but you must die: the general says, you, that have so traiterously discovered the secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no very 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!

Inter. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. [Unbinding him. So, look about you; Know you any here? Ber. Good-morrow, noble captain.

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 that same 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. Inter. You are undone, captain; all but your scarf, that has a knot on't yet.

Par. Who cannot be crush'd with a plot? Inter. If y f 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; I 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 himselt a braggart,
Let him fear this; for it will come to pass,
That every braggart shall be found an ass.
Rust, sword! cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live
Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!
There's place, and means, for every man alive.
I'll after them.

To mell, is derived from the French word, meler, to mingle.

[Exit.

2 i. e. to deceive the opinion.

SCENE

SCENE IV.

The Widow's House at Florence.

Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana.

home, more advanc'd by the king, than by that red-tail'd humble-bee I speak of.

Count. I would, I had not known him! it was the death of the most virtuous gentlewoman, that

Hel. That you may well perceive I have not 5 ever nature had praise for creating: if she had

wrong'd you,

One of the greatest in the christian world

[tul,

Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne, 'tis need-
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 inform'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 aiding,
And by the leave of my good lord the king,
We'll be, before our welcome.

Wid. Gentle madam,

You never had a servant, to whose trust
Your business was more welcome.

Hel. Nor you, mistress,

partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

Laf. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: 10we may pick a thousand sallads, ere we light on such another herb.

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Ever a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour
To recompense your love; doubt not, but heaven 25
Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
As it hath fated her to be my motive
And helper to a husband. But O strange men!
That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
When saucy' trusting of the cozen'd thoughts
Defiles the pitchy night! so lust doth play
With what it loaths, for that which is away:
But more of this hereafter:-You, Diana,
Under my poor instructions yet must suffer
Something in my behalf.

Dia. Let death and honesty
Go with your impositions, I am yours
Upon your will to suffer.

Hel. Yet, I pray you,

But with the word', the times will bring on summer,
When briars shall have leaves as well as thorns,
And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our waggon is prepar'd, and time revives us :
All's well that ends well: still the fine's the crown:

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Clo. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the sallet, or, rather, the herb of grace.

Laf. They are not sallet-herbs, you knave, they are nose-herbs.

Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir, I have not much skill in grass.

Laf. Whether dost thou profess thyself; a knave, or a fool?

Clo. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's.

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Clo. At your service.
Laf. No, no, no.

Clo. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a prince as you are.

Laf. Who's that? a Frenchman?

Clo. Faith, sir, he has an English name; but his phisnomy is more hotter in France, than there. Laf. What prince is that?

Clo. The black prince, sir, alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil.

40 Laf. Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this to suggest' thee from thy master thou talk'st of; serve him still.

Clo. I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always lov'd a great fire; and the master I speak of, ever

Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.[Exeunt. 45 keeps a good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the

SCENE V.
Rousillon.

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 50 too chill and tender; and they'll be for the flowery way, that leads to the broad gate, and the great fire.

Enter Countess, Lafcu, and Clown. Laf. No, no, no, your son was mis-led with a snipt-taffata fellow there; whose villainous saffron' would have made all the unbak'd and doughy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at this hour; and your son here at 55

1 Motive for assistant. 2

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 look'd to, without any tricks.

Saucy may here imply luxurious, and by consequence lascivious. 3i. e. in an instant of time. i. e. rouses us. Here some particulars of fashionable dress are ridiculed. Snipt-tajata needs no explanation; but villainous sufron is more obscure. This alludes to a fantastick fashion, then much followed, of using yellow starch for their bands and ruffs. Sir John Hawkins gives the following explanation of this passage: "Part of the furniture of a fool was a bauble, which, though it be generally taken to signify any thing of small value, has a precise and determinable meaning. It is, in short, a kind of truncheon with a head carved on it, which the fool anciently carried in his hand. i. e. seduce.

Clo.

Clo. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. [Exit.

Laf. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy'. Count. So he is. My lord, that's gone, made 5 himself much sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will.

Laf. I like him well: 'tis not amiss: and I10 was about to tell you, Since I heard of the good lady's death, and that my lord your son was upon his return home, I mov'd the king my master, to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a 15 self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness has promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceiv'd against your son, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it?

Count. With very much content, my lord, and I wish it happily effected.

Laf. His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able a body as when he numbered thirty; he

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Count. It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I die. I have letters, that my son will be here to-night: I shall beseech your lordship, to remain with me till they meet together.

Laf. Madam, I was thinking, with what manners I might safely be admitted.

Count. You need but plead your honourable privilege.

Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my God, it holds yet. Re-enter Clown.

Clo. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a scar under't, or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn

bare.

Count. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour: so, belike, is that. Clo. But it is your carbonado'd face. Luf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier.

Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow

will be here to-morrow, or I am deceiv'd by him 25 the head, and nod at every man. that in such intelligence hath seldom fail'd.

[Exeunt.

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Attendants.

V.

35 To come into his presence.
Gent. The king's not here.
Hel. Not here, sir?

Hel. BUT
UT this exceeding posting, day and night, 40
Must wear your spirits low: we cannot
help it;

[one,

But, since you have made the days and nights as
To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Be bold, you do so grow in my requital,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;-
Enter a gentle Astringer.

This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
If he would spend his power.-God save you, sir.
Gent. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
Gent. I have been sometimes there.

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Gent. Not, indeed:

He hence remov'd last night, and with more haste
Than is his use.

Wid. Lord, how we lose our pains!

Hel. All's well that ends well, yet;

Though time seem so adverse, and means unfit.-
I do beseech you, whither is he gone?
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
Whither I am going.

Hel. I do beseech you, sir,

Since you are like to see the king before me,
Commend the paper to his gracious hand;
50 Which, I presume, shall render you no blame,
But rather make you thank your pains for it :
I will come after you with what good speed
Our means will make us means.

Hel. I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen
From the report that goes upon your goodness;
And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, 55
Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
The use of your own virtues, for the which
I shall continue thankful.

Gent. What's your will?

Hel. That it will please you

To give this poor petition to the king;

And aid me with that store of power you have,

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Gent. This I'll do for you. [thank'd, He'. And you shall find yourself to be well What-e'er falls more.-We must go horse again:Go, go, provide. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Rousillon.

Enter Clown and Parolles.

Par. Good Mr. Lavatch, give my lord Lafen this letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known

That is, unlucky. ? Mr. Steevens says, that a gentle astringer, means a gentleman falconer.

to

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