the humour of his design; let him fetch off his drum in any hand. Ber. How now, monsieur? this drum sticks sorely in your disposition. 2 Lord. A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. Par. But a drum! Is't but a drum? A drum so Mar. He's shrewdly vex'd at something: Look, lost?-There was an excellent command! to he has spied us. Wid. Marry, hang you! Mar. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! soldiers. Wid. The troop is past: Come, pilgrim, I will Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents Hel. I humbly thank you: Both. We'll take your offer kindly. charge in with our horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers. 2 Lord. That was not to be blamed in the command of the service; it was a disaster of war that Cæsar himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to command. Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is not to be recovered. Par. It might have been recovered. Par. It is to be recovered: but that the merit of service is seldom attributed to the true and exact performer, I would have that drum or another, or hic jacet.3 Ber. Why, if you have a stomach to't, monsieur [Exe. if you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument of honour again into his native Enter quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprize, and go on; I will grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it, and extend to you what further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your worthiness. Bertram, and the two French Lords. 1 Lord. Nay, good my lord, put him to't; him have his way. let 2 Lord. If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your respect. 1 Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble. Pur. By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. Ber. Do you think I am so far deceived in him? Ber. But you must not now slumber in it. 1 Lord. Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct Par. I'll about it this evening: and I will pre knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him sently pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself as my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an in- in my certainty, put myself into my mortal preparafinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, tion, and, by midnight, look to hear further from me. the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordBer. May I be bold to acquaint his grace, you ship's entertainment. are gone about it? 2 Lord. It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing, too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might, at some great and trusty business, in a main danger, fail you. Ber. I would I knew in what particular action to try him. 2 Lord. None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. Par. I know not what the success will be, my lord; but the attempt I vow. Ber. I know thou art valiant; and, to the possi bility of thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. Par. I love not many words. [Exit. 1 Lord. No more than a fish loves water.-Is not this a strange fellow, my lord? that so confidently seems to undertake this business, which he knows 1 Lord. I, with a troop of Florentines, will sud-is not to be done; damns himself to do, and dares denly surprise him; such I will have, whom, I am better be damned than to do't. sure, he knows not from the enemy: we will bindi 2 Lord. You do not know him, my lord, as we and hood-wink him so, that he shall suppose no do: certain it is, that he will steal himself into a other but that he is carried into the leaguer2 of the man's favour, and, for a week, escape a great deal adversaries, when we bring him to our tents: Be of discoveries; but when you find him out, you but your lordship present at his examination; if he have him ever after. do not, for the promise of his life, and in the high- Ber. Why, do you think he will make no deed est compulsion of base fear, offer to betray you, at all of this, that so seriously he does address himand deliver all the intelligence in his power against self unto? you, and that with the divine forfeit of his soul upon 1 Lord. None in the world; but return with an oath, never trust my judgment in any thing. invention, and clap upon you two or three proba 2 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch ble lies. but we have almost embossed him, you his drum; he says he has a stratagen for't: when shall see his fall to-night; for, indeed, he is not for your lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, your lordship's respect. and to what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will 2 Lord. We'll make you some sport with the fox, be melted, if you give him not John Drum's enter-ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old tainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here lord Lafeu: when his disguise and he is parted, he comes. tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very night. Enter Parolles. 1 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not (2) The camp. 1 Lord. I must go look my twigs; he shall be caught. (4) I will pen down my plans, and the probable (1) A paltry fellow, a coward. (3) I would recover the lost drum or another, or jobstructions. die in the attempt. (5) Hunted him down. (6) Strip him nakeḍ, Ber. Your brother, he shall go along with me. Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, Ber. Now will I lead you to the house, and show Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact: you Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, Wid. Now I see Hel. You see it lawful then: It is no more, To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns Wid. I have yielded : Hel. Why then, to-night (1) i. e. By discovering herself to the count, Importunate. (3) i. e. Count, From under our windows, ACT IV. [Exeunt. SCENE I.—Without the Florentine camp. Enter first Lord, with five or six Soldiers in ambush. 1 Lord. He can come no other way but by this hedge's corner: When you sally upon him, speak what terrible language you will; though you understand it not yourselves, no matter: for we must not seem to understand him; unless some one among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter. 1 Sold. Good captain, let me be the interpreter. 1 Lord. Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? 1 Sold. No, sir, I warrant you. 1 Lord. But what linsy-woolsy hast thou to speak to us again? 1 Sold. Even such as you speak to me. 1 Lord. He must think us some band of stran gers i' the adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to know straight our purpose: chough's language, gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges. Enter Parolles. Par. Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be time enough to go home. What shall I say! have done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries it: They begin to smoke me; and disgraces have of late knocked too often at my door. I find my tongue is too fool-hardy; but my heart hath the fear of Mars before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of my tongue. 1 Lord. This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue was guilty of. [Aside. Par. What the devil should move me to undertake the recovery of this drum; being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I must give myself some hurts, and say, I got them in exploit: Yet slight ones will not carry it: They will say, Came you off with so little? and great ones I dare not give. Wherefore? what's the instance? Tongue, I must put you into a butter-woman's mouth, and buy another of Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. 1 Lord. Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is? [Aside. Par. I would the cutting of my garments would serve the turn; or the breaking of my Spanish sword. [Aside. 1 Lord. We cannot afford you so. Par. Or the baring of my beard; and to say, it was in stratagem. [Aside. 1 Lord. 'Twould not do. Par. Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. 1 Lord. Hardly serve. [Aside, (5) i. e. Foreign troops in the enemy's pay. So should you be. No. Par. Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel 1 Lord. How deep? Par. Thirty fathom. 1 Lord. Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. Par. I would I had any drum of the I would swear I recovered it. 1 Lord. You shall hear one anon. Par. A drum now of the enemy's! Ber. [Aside. My mother did but duty; such, my lord, [Alarum within. 1 Lord. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All. Cargo, cargo, villianda par carbo, cargo. Par. O! ransome, ransome:-Do not hide mine eyes. [They seize him and blindfold him. 1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos. Par. I know you are the Muskos' regiment, I will discover that which shall undo truth; But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true. But take the Highest to witness :2 Then, pray you, If I should swear by Jove's great attributes, I lov'd you dearly, would you believe my oaths, Change it, change it; Dia. I see that men make hopes in such affairs, Dia. Dia. [Exit, with Parolles guarded. 1 Lord, Go, tell the count Rousillon, and my brother, We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled, Till we do hear from them. 2 Sold. Captain, I will. 1 Lord. He will betray us all unto ourselves ;Inform 'em that. 2 Sold. So I will, sir. 1 Lord. Till then, I'll keep him dark, and safely lock'd. [Exeunt. Ber. Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my cham- I'll order take, my mother shall not hear. SCENE II.-Florence. A room in the Widow's Now will I charge you in the band of truth, house. Enter Bertram and Diana. When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed, Ber. They told me, that your name was Fon-Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me: tibell. Dia. No, my good lord, Diana. Dia. She then was honest. (1) i. e. Against his determined resolution never to cohabit with Helena, 244 You may so in the end. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. My mother told me just how he would woo, Marry that will, I'll live and die a maid: [Exit. SCENE III.-The Florentine camp. Enter the 2 Lord. I have delivered it an hour since: there 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. of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven. 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 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 mightly, some other times, we drown our gain in tears! The great dignity, that be encountered with a shame as ample. his valour hath here acquired for him, shall at home 1 Lord. The web of our life is of a mingled proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our yarn, good and ill together; our virtues would be 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 2 Lord. He hath perverted a young gentlewo-will next morning for France. The duke hath ofman here in Florence, of a most chaste renown; fered him letters of commendations to the king. 2 Lord. They shall be no more than needful and this night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath given her his monumental ring, there, if they were more than they can commend. and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition. 1 Lord. Now, God delay our rebellion; as we are ourselves, what things are we! Enter Bertram. 1 Lord. They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. Here's his lordship now. How now, my 2 Lord. Merely our own traitors. And as in the lord, is't not after midnight? Ber. I have to-night despatched sixteen busicommon course of all treasons, we still see them reveal themselves, till they attain to their abhorred nesses, a month's length a piece, by an abstract of ends; so he, that in this action contrives against success: I have conge'd with the duke, done my his own nobility, in his proper stream o'erilows adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my lady mother, I am returning; enhimself.2 1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable in us, to be tertained my convoy; and, between these main trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not parcels of despatch, eflected many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but that I have not then have his company to-night? 2 Lord. Not till after midnight; for he is dieted ended yet. to his hour. 2 Lord. If the business be of any difficulty, and Lord. That approaches apace: I would gladly this morning your departure hence, it requires nave him see his company anatomized; that he haste of your lordship. 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 became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan (1) Crafty, deceitful. (2) i. e. Betrays his own secrets in his own talk, 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 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 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 confessed 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 confessed? 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 be (4) For companion. (5) Model, pattern. (6) An allusion to the degradation of a knight by hacking off his spurs, lieve you are, you must have the patience to not possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to hear it. Re-enter Soldiers, with Parolles. 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 parti Ber. A plague upon him! muffled! he can say cular of the intergatorics: Demand them singly. 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 Par. An 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 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 theoric1 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't, in the ture he delivers it. Par. Poor rogues, I pray you, say. 1 Sold. Well, that's set down. 1 Sold. Do you know this captain Dumain? Par. I know him: he was a botcher's 'prentice the sheriff's fool with child; a dumb innocent, in Paris, from whence he was whipped for getting 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 title 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 let ter 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. it 1 Sold. Here 'tis; here's a paper? Shall I read Par. I do not know, if it be it, or no. 1 Lord. Excellently. 1 Sold. Dian. The count's a fool, and full of gold, advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one count 1 Sold. Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. Par. My meaning in't, protest, was very na-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. 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 afoot. What say you to that. Ber. Damnable, both sides rogue! 1 Sold. When he swears oaths, bid him drop geld, and take it; After he scores, he never pays the score: Par. By my troth, sir, if I were to live this pre-Half won, is match well made; maich, and well sent hour, I will tell true. Let me sec: Spurio a make it ;7 hundred and fifty, Sebastian so many, Corambus He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before; so many, Jaques so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodo-And say, a soldier, Dian, told thee this, wick, and Gratii, two hundred fifty cach: mine Men are to mell with, beys are net to kiss: own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it, hundred and fifty each: so that the muster-file, Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifThine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear, teen thousand poll; half of which dare not shake PAROLLES. the snow from off their cassocks,' lest they shake Ber. He shall be whipped through the army, wiŁA themselves to pieces. this rhyme in his forehead. Ber. What shall be done to him. 2 Lord. This is your devoted friend, sir, the 1 Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. De-manifold linguist, and the armipotent soldier." mand of him my conditions, and what credit I have with the duke. Ber. I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now he's a cat to me. 1 Sold. Well, that's set down. You shall de- 1 Sold. I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, mand of him, whether one captain Dumain be iwe shall be fain to hang you. the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is Par. My life, sir, in any case: not that I am with the duke, what his valour, honesty, and ex-afraid to die; but that, my offences being many, I pertness in wars; or whether he thinks, it were would repent out the remainder of nature; let me (4) Theory. (2) The point of the scabbard. (5) For interrogatories. (6) A natural fool. (7) i. e. A match well made is half won; make your match therefore, but make it well. |