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 chang'd almost into another man.
-- 106 --
1 Lord1 note
.
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
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 abhorr'd ends2 note;
so he, that in this action contrives against his own
nobility, 3 notein his proper stream o'erflows himself.
1 Lord.
Is it not meant damnable 9Q0413 in us, to be
-- 107 --
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 judgment4 note, 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 counsel.
2 Lord.
Let it be forbid, sir! so should I be a
great deal of his act.
2 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?
-- 108 --
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 whip'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 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 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
-- 109 --
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, 5 note
bring
forth this counterfeit module; he has deceiv'd me,
like a double-meaning prophesier.
2 Lord.
Bring him forth: he has 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 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 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.
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.
Inter.
He calls for the tortures; What will you
say without 'em?
-- 110 --
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:—Our general
bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.
Par.
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 reputation 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 him6 note.
Ber.
What a past-saving slave is this!
1 Lord.
You are deceiv'd, my lord; this is monsieur
Parolles, the gallant militarist, (that was his own
phrase) that had the wholetheorique 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.
Inter.
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't7 note
, in the nature
he delivers it.
-- 111 --
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 a-foot.
What say you to that?
Par.
By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present
hour8 note
, 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 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 cassocks9 note
, lest they shake themselves to pieces.
-- 112 --
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.
Inter.
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 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 whip'd for getting the sheriff's
fool with child; a dumb innocent, that could
not say him, nay. 9Q0414
[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.
Inter.
Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's
camp?
Par.
Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.
-- 113 --
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?
Par.
I do not know, if it be it, or no.
Ber.
Our interpreter does it well.
1 Lord.
Excellently.
Inter.
1 note
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.
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!
-- 114 --
Interpreter reads the letter.
When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;
After he scores, he never pays the score:
2 note
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,
3 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.
-- 115 --
Ber.
He shall be whip'd through the army, with
this rhime in his forehead.
2 Lord.
This is your devoted friend, sir, the 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?
-- 116 --
Par.
He will steal, sir, 4 notean 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 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.
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
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! 5 note
he's a cat still.
-- 117 --
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 fee-simple
of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut
the intail from all remainders, and a perpetual succession
for it perpetually.
Inter.
What's his brother, the other captain Dumain?
2 Lord.
6 noteWhy 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 out-runs any lacquey; marry, in coming on
he has the cramp.
Inter.
If your life be saved, will you undertake to
betray the Florentine?
Par.
Ay, and the captain of his horse, count Rousillon.
-- 118 --
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 7 noteto 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 was taken?
[Aside.
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 you could find out a country where but
women were that had received so much shame, you
-- 119 --
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.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
