he, that in this action contrives against his own Nobility, in his proper ftream o'erflows himself.

I 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 fee his company anatomiz'd, that he might take a measure of his own Judgment, wherein fo curiously he hath fet this counterfeit.

2 Lord. We will not meddle with him 'till he come; for his prefence 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 affure you, a Peace concluded. 2 Lord. What will Count Roufillon do then? will he travel higher, or return againin to France?

1 Lord. I perceive by this demand, you are not altogether of his Council.

2 Lord. Let it be forbid, Sir! fo fhould I be a great deal of his act.

I Lord. Sir, his Wife fome two months fince fled from his Houfe, her pretence is Pilgrimage to St. 'Jaques le Grand; which holy Undertaking, with moft auftere fanctimony, the accomplished; and there refiding, the tendernefs of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now the fings in heaven.

2 Lord. How is this juftified?

I Lord. The ftronger part of it by her own letters,

4 In his proper ftream c'erficws infelf. That is, betrays his own fecrets in his own talk. The reply fhews that this is the meaning.

He might take a measure of

his own judgment.] This is a very juft and moral reafon. Bertram, by finding how erroneoufly he has judged, will be lefs confident, and more easily moved by admonition.

which makes her ftory true, even to the point of her death; her Death itself (which could not be her office to fay, 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 forry, that he'll be glad of this.

I Lord. How mightily fometimes we make us comforts of our loffes!

2 Lord. And how mightily fome other times we drown our gain in tears! the great dignity, that his valour hath here acquired for him, fhall at home be encounter'd with a fhame as ample.

I 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 defpair, if they were not cherish'd by our virtues.

Enter a Servant:

How now? where's your mafter?

Serv. He met the Duke in the street, Sir, of whom he hath taken a folemn leave: his Lordship will next morning for France. The Duke hath offered him letters of commendations to the King.

2 Lord. They fhall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can commend.

1 Lord. They cannot be too fweet for the King's tartnefs; here's his Lordship now. How now, my Lord, is't not after midnight?

Ber. I have to-night difpatch'd fixten bufineffes; a

month's

month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success; İ 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 laft was the greateft, but that I have not ended yet.

2 Lord. If the business be of any difficulty, and this morning your departure hence, it requires hafte of your Lordship.

Ber. I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it hereafter. But fhall we have this dialogue between the fool and the foldier? come ", bring forth this counterfeit module; h'as deceiv'd me, like a double-meaning prophefier.

2 Lord. Bring him forth; h'as fate in the Stocks all night, poor gallant knave.

Ber. No matter; his heels have deferv'd it, in ufurping his fpurs fo long. How does he How does he carry himfelf?

I 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 confefs'd himself to Morgan, whom he fuppofes to be a Friar, from the time of his remembrance to this very inftant difafter of his fetting i'th' Stocks; and what, think you, he hath confeft? Ber. Nothing of me, has he?

2 Lord. His confeffion 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.

6 bring forth this counterfeit MODULE ;] This epithet is improper to a module, which profeffes to be the counterfeit of a

nother thing. We should read MEDAL. And this the Oxford

Editor follows. WARBURTON.

Module being the patern of any thing, may be here used in that fenfe. Bring forth this fellow, who, by counterfeit virtue pretended to make himself a pattern.

SCENE

SCENE V.

Enter Parolles, with his Interpreter.

Ber. A plague upon him, muffled! he can fay nothing of me; hufh! hufh!

1 Lord. Hoodman comes: Portotaroffa.

Inter. He calls for the tortures; what, will you fay without 'em?

Par. I will confefs what I know without constraint; if you pinch me like a pafty, I can fay no more. Interp. Boko Chimurcho.

2 Lord. Biblibindo chicurmurco.

Inter. You are a merciful General. Our General bids you answer to what I fhall afk you out of a note. Pur. And truly, as I hope to live.

Inter. Firft demand of him, how many Horse the Duke is strong. What fay you to that?

Par. Five or fix thousand, but very weak and unferviceable; 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 fet 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 paft-faving flave is this!

I

1 Lord. Y'are deceiv'd; my Lord, this is Monfieur Parolles, the gallant militarift, that was his own phrafe, 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 fword clean; nor believe, he can have every thing in him by wearing his apparel neatly.

Inter. Well, that's fet down.

Par. Five or fix thousand horse I faid, (I will fay true) or thereabouts, fet down; for I'll speak truth. 1 Lord.

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, fay.

Inter. Well, that's fet down.

Par. I humbly thank you, Sir; a truth's a truth, the rogues are marvellous poor.

Inter. Demand of him, of what ftrength they are a-foot. What fay you to that?

Par. By my troth, Sir, if I were to live this préfent hour, I will tell true. Let me fee; Spurio a hundred and fifty, Sebaftian fo many, Corambus fo many, Jaques fo many; Guiltian, Cofmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and fifty each; fo that the mufter file, rotten and found, upon my life amounts not to fifteen thoufand Poll; half of the which dare not shake the fnow from off their caffocks, left they fhake themselves to pieces.

Ber. What fhall 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 fet down. You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain be i'th' camp, a Frenchman, what his reputation is with the Duke; what his valour, honefty, and expertnefs in war; or whether he thinks, it were not poffible with wellweighing fums of gold to corrupt him to a revolt. What fay you to this? what do you know of it? Par. I befeech you, let me answer to the particular of the Interrogatories. Demand them fingly.

Inter. 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 fheriff's fool with child; a dumb innocent, that could not fay him nay. [Dumain lifts up his hand in anger.

Ber.