Florence.
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 chang'd 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 tun'd 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
our selves, what things are we!
-- 427 --
2 Lord.
Meerly our own traitors; and as in the
common course of all treasons, 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'erflows himself.
1 Lord.
Is it not meant damnable in us to be the
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 anatomiz'd, 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?
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 St.
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 it self (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?
-- 428 --
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 whipt 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?
Ser.
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 dispatch'd sixteen businesses, a
month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success; I
have congied 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.
-- 429 --
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; h'as deceiv'd me, like a double-meaning
prophesier.
2 Lord.
Bring him forth; h'as sate 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 confest 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'th' Stocks; and what, think you, he hath confest?
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.
Enter Parolles, with his Interpreter.
Ber.
A plague upon him, muffled! he can say nothing
of me; hush! hush!
1 Lord.
Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa.
Int.
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.
Int.
Bosko Chimurcho.
2 Lord.
Biblibindo chicurmurco.
Int.
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.
Int.
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.
-- 430 --
Int.
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 me.
Ber.
What a past-saving slave is this?
1 Lord.
Y'are deceiv'd, my Lord, this is Monsieur
Parolles, the gallant militarist, that was his own phrase,
that had the whole theory 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.
Int.
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.
Int.
Well, that's set down.
Par.
I humbly thank you, Sir; a truth's a truth,
the rogues are marvellous poor.
Int.
Demand of him of 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, Corambus 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
the 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.
Int.
Well, that's set down. You shall demand of
him, whether one Captain Dumain be i'th' camp, a
Frenchman; what his reputation is with the Duke,
-- 431 --
what his valour, honesty, and expertness in war; 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 Interrogatories. Demand them singly.
Int.
Do you know this Captain Dumain?
Par.
I know him; he was a botcher's prentice in
Paris, from whence he was whipt for getting the
sheriff's fool with child, a dumb innocent, that could
not say him nay.
Ber.
Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; tho' I
know, his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.
Int.
Well, is this Captain in the Duke of Florence's
Camp?
Par.
Upon my knowledge he is, and lowsie.
1 Lord.
Nay, look not so upon me, we shall hear
of your Lordship anon.
Int.
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'th' band. I think, I have his letter in my
pocket.
Int.
Marry, we'll search.
Par.
In good sadness, I do not know; either it is
there, or it is upon the file with the Duke's other letters
in my tent.
Int.
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.
Int.
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.
Int.
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
-- 432 --
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:
He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before.
And say, a soldier (Dian) told thee this:
(33) note
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,
Parolles.
Ber.
He shall be whipt through the army with this
rhime in his forehead.
2 Lord.
This is your devoted friend, Sir, the manifold
linguist and the armi-potent soldier.
Ber.
I could endure any thing before but a cat, and
now he's a cat to me.
Int.
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'th' Stocks, any where, so I may live.
Int.
We'll see what may be done, so you confess
freely; therefore, once more, to this Captain Dumain:
-- 433 --
you have answer'd to his reputation with the Duke,
and to his valour. What is his honesty?
Par.
He will steal, Sir, an egg out of a cloister:
for rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus. He professes
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-cloaths 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 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 pox
upon him for me, he is more and more a cat.
Int.
What say you to his expertness in war?
Par.
Faith, Sir, h'as 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
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 villany so far, that the
rarity redeems him.
Ber.
A pox on him, he's a cat still.
Int.
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 fee-simple
of his salvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th'intail
from all remainders, and a perpetual succession
for it perpetually.
Int.
What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain?
2 Lord.
Why does he ask him of me?
Int.
What's he?
Par.
E'en a crow o'th' same nest; not altogether so
great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal
-- 434 --
in evil. He excels his Brother for a Coward, yet his
brother is reputed one of the best that is. In a Retreat
he out-runs any lacquey; marry, in coming on he has
the cramp.
Int.
If your life be saved, will you undertake to
betray the Florentine?
Par.
Ay, and the Captain of his horse, Count Rousillon.
Int.
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 danger; yet who would have suspected an
ambush where I was taken?
[Aside.
Int.
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 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.
Int.
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? if I were not a very coward, I'd compel
it of you; but fare you well.
[Exeunt.
Int.
You are undone, Captain, all but your scarf;
that has a knot on't yet.
Par.
Who cannot be crush'd with a plot?
Int.
If you could find out a Country where but women
were that had receiv'd so much shame, you
-- 435 --
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 fool'ry thrive;
There's place and means for every man alive.
I'll after them.
[Exit.
Lewis Theobald [1733], The works of Shakespeare: in seven volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected; With notes, Explanatory and Critical; By Mr. Theobald (Printed for A. Bettesworth and C. Hitch [and] J. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11201].
