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, My mother told me just how he would woo, 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 But take the Highest to witness: Then, pray you, is something in't that stings his nature: for, on the tell me, Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; 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. When back again this ring shall be deliver'd : 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: and, there residing, the tenderness of her nature I Lord. The stronger part of it by her own letter 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 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 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 congé'd 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. Come, 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 my oath on't, how and which way you will. Ber. All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! this is mon 1 Lord. You are deceived, my lord; sieur 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 chape 7 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 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. Ber. I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it hereafter: But shall we have this dia-a-foot. What say you to that? logue between the fool and the soldier? 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 spurs so long. How does he carry 1 Sold. Demand of him, of what strength they are Par. By my troth, sir, if I were to live this Let me see : Spurio present hour, I will tell true. himself? 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 8, 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 9, and what credit I have with the duke. 1 Sold. Well, that's set down. You shall demand 7 The point of the scabbard. Cassock then signified a horseman's loose coat. 9 Disposition and character. 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? 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. Pur. He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister. What say you to this? what do you know of it? He professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking Par. I beseech you, let me answer to the par- them, he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie, ticular of the interrogatories: Demand them singly. | sir, with such volubility, that you would think truth 1 Sold. Do you know this captain Dumain? were a fool: drunkenness is his best virtue. I have Par. I know him: he was a botcher's 'prentice in but little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has Paris, from whence he was whipped for ill conduct. every thing that an honest man should not have; [DUMAIN lifts up his hand in anger. what an honest man should have, he has nothing. Ber. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; 1 Lord. I begin to love him for this. 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? Ber. For this description of thine honesty? A plague 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 villainy so far, that the rarity redeems him. Ber. A plague 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'ecu he will sell the feesimple 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? 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 He ne'er pays after debts, take it before; Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear, 2 Lord. This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold linguist, and the armipotent soldier. 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 beguile the supposition 2 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. There 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, headsmen, off with his head. Par. O Lord, sir; let me live, or let me see my Ber. I could endure any thing before but a cat, death. 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 any where, so I may live. 1 Sold. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. [Unmuffling him. So, look you about you; Know you any here? Ber. Good morrow, noble captain. 2 Lord. Bless you, captain Parolles. 1 Lord. Save you, noble captain. 1 The fourth part of the smaller French crown 2 Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my | SCENE V. - Rousillon. lord Lafeu? 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, &c. 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; 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 himself 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. [Exit. A Room in the Coun tess's Palace. Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and CLOWN. Laf. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipttaffata fellow there; whose villainous saffron 5 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 home, more advanced by the the king, than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. Count. I would, I had not known him! it was the death of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had praise for creating: if she had 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: we may pick a thousand salads, ere we light on such another herb. 6 Clo. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the salad, or, rather, the herb of grace. Laf. They are not salad-herbs, you knave, they are nose-herbs. Clo. Sir, I have not much skill in grass. 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 SCENE IV. Florence. A Room in the Widow's well looked to, without any tricks. House. Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA. Hel. That you may well perceive I have not One of the greatest in the Christian world 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. 7 Count. So he is. My lord, that's gone, made 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 I 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 moved the king my master, to speak in the behalf of my daughter which in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived 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 body as when he numbered thirty; he will be here to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence hath seldom failed. 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, thank my God, it holds yet. under it, 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. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour! so, belike, is that. Clo. But it is your carbonadoed & face. Laf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier. Clo. There's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man. [Exeunt. SCENE I. - Marseilles. A Street. ACT V Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attendants. Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night, Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it; But since you have made the days and nights as one, 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. 9 This man may help me to his majesty's ear, Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. Gent. I have been sometimes there. 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, 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? Gent. The king's not here. Gent. Not here, sir? Not, indeed: He hence remov'd last night, and with more haste Than is his use. Hel. All's well that ends well; yet; I do beseech you, whither is he gone? Hel. I do beseech you, sir, Since you are like to see the king before me, Commend the paper to his gracious hand; 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. Gent. This I'll do for you. Hel. And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, Whate'er falls more. Go, go, provide. this letter: I have, cre now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure. Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: Look, here he comes himself. Enter LAFEU. Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Erit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched. Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for you: Let the justices make you and fortune friends: I am for other business. Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word, Laf. You beg a single penny more: shall ha't; save your word. SCENE III. A Room in the Countess's Palace. We must to horse again; [Exeunt. Flourish. Enter King, Countess, LAFEU, Lords, King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem ' Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu Her estimation home. ? 8 Scored like a piece of meat for the gridiron. 9 A gentleman falconer. Count. 'Tis past my liege : 1 Reckoning or estimate. 2 Completely, in its full extent |
