1

SCENE III.-The Florentine Camp. 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 deliver'd 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 incurr'd 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 ho nour: 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 obtain to their abhorred end; 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.

* Here, as elsewhere, used as an adverb.

+ For companion.

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 accomplish'd: 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 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 gain 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, if 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 whom he hath taken a solemn leave; his lordship will next morning for France. The duke hath offer'd 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 despatch'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 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.

er. 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 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 confess'd 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 confess'd?

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.

* Model, pattern..

+ An allusion to the degradation of a knight by

pulling off his spurs.

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 scatter'd, 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 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 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 it, in the nature he 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?

Jaques

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, SO 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.

* Theory.

+ The point of the scabbard.

Cassock then signified a horseman's loose coat. VOL. II.

Mm

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 Sol. 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 wellweighing 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 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 I know, his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.

1 Sold. Well, is this captain in the duke of Flo rence'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.
Ber. Our interpreter does it well.

1 Lord. Excellently.

1 Sol. 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

* Disposition and character.

+ For interrogatories.

An idiot under the care of the sheriff.
A natural fool.