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My love, as it begins, fhall fo perfever.

Dia. I fee that men make hopes in fuch affairs That we'll forfake 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 ancellors;

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Which were the greatest obloquy i' th' world#TRA In me to lofe.

Dia. Mine honour's fuch a ring;

My chastity's the jewel of our houfe,
Bequeathed down from many ancestors;
Which were the greatest obloquy i' th' world
In me to lofe. Thus your own proper wifdom
Brings in the champion honour on my part,
Against your vain affault.

Ber. Here, také my ring.

My houfe, my honour, yea, my life, be'thine,
And I'll be bid by thee.

Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamberI'll order take my mother fhall not hear.

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Now will I charge you in the band of truth,

When you have conquer'd my yet maiden-bed,
Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me.

My reasons are most strong, and you fhall know them,
When back again this ring fhall be deliver'd;
And on your finger, in the night I'll put
Another ring, that, what in time proceeds,
May token to the future our past deeds.
Adieu, till then; then, fail not you have won
A wife of me, tho' there my hope be done."
Ber. A heav'n on earth I've won by wooing thee.

[Exit. Dia. For which live long to thank both heav'n and You may fo in the end.

My mother told me just how he would woo,
As if the fat in's heart; fhe fays, all men

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Have the like oaths: he had fworn to marry me,
When his wife's dead: therefore I'll lie with him
When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are fo braid,
Marry 'em that will, I'd live and die a maid ;
VOL. III.

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Only,

Only, in this difguife, I think no fin.
To cozen him that would unjustly win.

[Exit.

SCENE III. Changes to the French camp in Florence. Enter the two French Lords and two or three foldiers.

i Lord. You have not given him his mother's letter? 2 Lord. I have deliver'd it an hour fince; there is fomething in't that fting's his nature; for, on the reading it, he change'd almost into another man.

1 Lord. He has much worthy blame laid upon him for fhaking off fo good a wife, and fo fweet a lady.

2 Lord. Efpecially he hath incurred the everlasting displeasure of the King, who had even tun'd his bounty to fing happinefs to him. I will tell you a thing, but fhall let it dwell darkly with you.

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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 moft chafte renown; and this night he fleshes his will in the fpoil of her honour : he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchafte compofition.

I Lord. Now God delay our rebellion; as we are ourfelves, what things we are!

2 Lord. Merely our own traitors; and as, in the common courfe of all treafons, we ftill fee them reveal themselves, till they attain to their abhorr'd ends; fo he that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in his proper ftream o'erflows himself.

1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable in us to be the trumpeters of our unlawful intents? we fhall 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 had fet this counterfeit.

2 Lord. We will not meddle with him till he come; for his prefence must be the whip of the other.

4 Lord.

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 again into 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.

1 Lord. Sir, his wife fome two months fince fled from his houfe, her pretence is a pilgrimage to St. Jaques le Grand; which holy undertaking, with most auftere fanctimony, fhe accomplish'd; and there refiding, the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her laft breath, and now the fings in heaven.

2 Lord. How is this juftified?

1 Lord. The ftronger 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 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 encountered with a fhame 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 defpair, if they were not cherifh'd by our virtues.

Enter a fervant. ́

How now? where's your mafter?

Ser. He met the Duke in the treet, Sir, of whom he hath taken a folemn leave: his Lordfhip will next morning

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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.

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ISCENE IV. Enter Bertram.

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

Ber, I have to-night difpatch'd fixteen bufineffes, a month's length a-piece, by an abstract of fuccefs; 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; entertained my convoy: and, between these main parcels of difpatch, effected many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but that I have not ended yet..

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

Ber. I mean, the bufinefs 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 medal; h'as deceiv'd me, like a doublemeaning prophefier.

2 Lord. Bring him forth; he's fat in the ftocks all night, poor gallant knave.

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

I Lord. I have told your Lordship already: the ftocks carry him. But to answer you as you would be understood, he weeps like a wench that had fhed 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' ftocks; and what, think you, he hath confefs'd?

Ber. Nothing of me, has he?

2 Lord. His confeffion is taken, and it fhall be read to his face if your Lordship be in't, as I believe you are, you must have the patience to hear it.

SCENE

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Enter Parolles, with bis Interpreter.

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

1 Lord. Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa.

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

Par. I will confefs what I know without constraint; if ye pinch me like a pafty, I can fay no more. Int. Bofko chimurcho.

2 Lord Biblibindo chicurmurco.

Int. You are a merciful General: our General bids you answer to what I afk you out of a note. Par. And truly, as I hope to live.

Int. First demand of him how many horse the Duke is ftrong. What fay you to that?

Par. Five or fix thoufand, but very weak and unferviceable. The troops are all fcatter'd, and the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live.

Int. Shall I fet down your anfwer fo?

Par. Do; I'll take the facrament on't, how and which way you will: all's one to me.

Ber. What a paft-faving flave is this!

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 fcarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger.

2 Lord. I will never truft a man again for keeping his fword clean; nor believe he can have every thing in him, by wearing his apparel neatly.

Int. Well, that's fet down.

Par. Five or fix thoufand horfe I faid (I will fay true) or thereabouts, fet down, for I'll fpeak 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, fay.
Int. Well, that's fet down,

Par.

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