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his teeth, and sing. I know a man, that had this trick Fr. Gen. Such is his noble purpose; and, believe't, of melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a song, The duke will lay upon him all the honour
Count. Let me see what he writes, and when he That good convenience claims. means to come. [Opening a letter. Count.
Return you thither? Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at court. Fr. Env. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of Our old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing speed. like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: the Hel. (Reads.) “Till I have no wife, I have nothing brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to
in France." love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. 'Tis bitter. Count. What have we here?
Count. Find you that there? Clo. E'en that you have there.
Ay, madam. Count. [Reads.j“ I have sent you a daughter-in-law: Fr. Env. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, | she hath recovered the king, and undone me. I have Which his heart was not consenting to, wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife! not eternal. You shall hear, I am run away: know it There's nothing here that is too good for him, before the report come. If there be breadth enough in But only she; and she deserves a lord, the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you. That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
“ Your unfortunate son, And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?
“ BERTRAM." Fr. Env. A servant only, and a gentleman This is not well: rash and unbridled boy,
Which I have some time known. To fly the favours of so good a king !
Parolles, was it not? To pluck his indignation on thy head,
Fr. Env. Ay, my good lady, he. By the misprizing of a maid, too virtuous
Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedFor the contempt of empire !
ness. Re-enter Clown.
My son corrupts a well-derived nature Clo. O madam! yonder is heavy news within, be- With his inducement. tween two soldiers and my young lady.
Indeed, good lady, Count. What is the matter?
The fellow has a deal of that too much, Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some which 'hoves him much to leave. comfort: your son will not be killed so soon as I Count. Y' are welcome, gentlemen. thought he would.
I will entreat you, when you see my son, Count. Why should he be kill'd ?
To tell him, that his sword can never win Clo. So say 1, madam, if he run away, as I hear he The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you does: the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of Written to bear along. men, though it be the getting of children. Here they Fr. Gen.
We serve you, madam, come will tell you more; for my part, I only hear your In that and all your worthiest affairs. son was run away.
Count. Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
[Exeunt Countess and French Gentlemen. Hel. Madam, my lord is gone; for ever gone. Hel. “Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France." Fr. Gen. Do not say so.
Nothing in France, until he has no wife ! Count. Think upon patience.—'Pray you, gentle- Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France ; men,
Then hast thou all again. Poor lord ! is't I I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief,
That chase thee from thy country, and expose That the first face of neither, on the start,
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Of smoky muskets? O!
you leaden messengers, We met him thitherward; for thence we came, That ride upon the volant speed of fire, And, after some despatch in hand at court,
Fly with false aim; wound the still-piecing air, Thither we bend again.
That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord ! Hel. Look on his letter, madam: here's my pass- Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; port.
Whoever charges on his forward breast, [Reads.] “When thou canst get the ring upon my I am the caitiff that do hold him to it;
finger, which never shall come off, and show me And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Ay, madam; Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all: I will be gone.
Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house, But I do wash his name out of my blood,
And angels offic'd all: I will be gone, And thou art all my child.-Towards Florence is he? That pitiful rumour may report my flight, Fr. Gen. Ay, madam.
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day; Count.
And to be a soldier ? For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. [Exit.
SCENE III.-Florence. Before the Duke's Palace. SCENE V.--Without the Walls of Florence.
Parolles, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others. Diana, VIOLENTA, Mariana, and other Citizens.
Wid. Nay, come; for if they do approach the city,
we shall lose all the sight. Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence Upon thy promising fortune.
Dia. They say, the French count has done most Ber.
Sir, it is
honourable service. A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
Wid. It is reported that he has taken their greatest We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake,
commander, and that with his own hand he slew the
duke's brother. We have lost our labour; they are To th' extreme edge of hazard. Duke.
Then go thou forth, gone a contrary way: hark! you may know by their And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
trumpets. As thy auspicious mistress!
Mar. Come; let's return again, and suffice ourselves
with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this Great Mars, I put myself into thy file :
French earl : the honour of a maid is her name, and Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove
no legacy is so rich as honesty.
[Exeunt. A lover of thy drum, hater of love.
Wid. I have told my neighbour, how have been
solicited by a gentleman his companion. SCENE IV.-Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles : Palace.
a filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young
earl.-Beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticeEnter Countess and her Steward.
ments, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are Count. Alas! and would you take the letter of her? not the things they go under: many a maid hath been Might you not know, she would do as she has done, seduced by them; and the misery is, example, that so By sending me a letter? Read it again.
terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for Stew. [Reads.] “ I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither all that dissuade succession, but that they are limed
with the twigs that threaten them. I hope, I need not gone. Ambitious love hath so in me offended,
to advise you further; but, I hope, your own grace will That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon,
keep you where you are, though there were no farther With sainted vow my faults to have amended. danger known, but the modesty which is so lost. Write, write, that, from the bloody course of war,
Dia. You shall not need to fear me. My dearest master, your dear son, may hie :
Enter Helena in the dress of a Pilgrim. Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far
Wid. I hope so.—Look, here comes a pilgrim: I His name with zealous fervour sanctify.
know she will lie at my house; thither they send one His taken labours bid him me forgive :
another. I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
I'll question her.--God save you, pilgrim!
To Saint Jaques le Grand.
Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.'
Wid. At the Saint Francis here, beside the port. Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in ber mildest Hel. Is this the way? words!
Wid. Ay, marry, is't.-Hark you! (A march afar off.
They come this way.-
But till the troops come by,
I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd; Stew.
Pardon me, madam: The rather, for I think I know your hostess If I had given you this at over-night,
As ample as myself. She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes,
Is it yourself?
Wid. If you shall please so, pilgrim.
Hel. I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
That has done worthy service.
His name, I pray you. Let every word weigh heavy of her worth,
Dia. The count Rousillon : know you such a one? That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief,
Hel. But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him : Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.
His face I know not. Despatch the most convenient messenger.
Whatsoe'er he is, When, haply, he shall hear that she is gone, He's bravely taken here.
He stole from France, He will return; and hope I may, that she,
As 'tis reported, for the king had married him
Against his liking. Think you it is so?
. Ay, surely, mere the truth : I know his lady. Is dearest to me, I have no skill or sense
Dia. There is a gentleman, that serves the count, To make distinction.- Provide this messenger.-
Reports but coarsely of her.
Hel. My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak;
What's his name?
Dia. Monsieur Parolles.
O! I believe with him,
I did so.
In argument of praise, or to the worth
of no one good quality, worthy your lordship's enterOf the great count himself, she is too mean
tainment. To have her name repeated : all her deserving
Fr. Gent. It were fit you knew him, lest reposing Is a reserved honesty, and that
too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might, at I have not heard examin'd.
some great and trusty business in a main danger, fail Dia. Alas, poor lady!
you. 'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife
Ber. I would I knew in what particular action to Of a detesting lord.
Wid. I write good creature: wheresoe'er she is, Fr. Gent. None better than to let him fetch off his Her heart weighs sadly. This young maid might do her drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd.
Fr. Env. Í, with a troop of Florentines, will sudHel.
How do you mean? denly surprise him: such I will have, whom, I am May be, the amorous count solicits her
sure, he knows not from the enemy. We will bind In the unlawful purpose.
and hoodwink him so, that he shall suppose no other Wid. He does, indeed;
but that he is carried into the leaguer of the adversaAnd brokes with all that can in such a suit
ries, when we bring him to our own tents. Be but Corrupt the tender honour of a maid :
your lordship present at his examination, if he do not, But she is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard, for the promise of his life, and in the highest compulIn honestest defence.
sion of base fear, offer to betray you, and deliver all Enter with drum and colours, a party of the Florentine the intelligence in his power against you, and that army, BERTRAM, and PAROLLES.
with the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never Mar. The gods forbid else!
trust my judgment in any thing. Wid.
So, now they come.- Fr. Gent. O! for the love of laughter, let him fetch That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son;
off his drum: he says he has a stratagem for't. When That, Escalus.
your lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and Hel. Which is the Frenchman?
to what metal this counterfeit lump of ores will be Dia.
melted, if you give him not John Drum's entertain-
Fr. Env. O! for the love of laughter, hinder not the Dia. 'Tis pity, he is not honest. Yond's that same honour of his design: let him fetch off his drum in any knave,
hand. That leads him to these places : were I his lady, Ber. How now, monsieur ? this drum sticks sorely I would poison that vile rascal.
in your disposition. Hel.
Which is he!
Fr. Gent. A pox on't! let it go : 'tis but a drum. Dia. That jackanapes with scarfs. Why is he me- Par. But a drum! Is't but a drum? A drum so lancholy?
lost!—There was an excellent command, to charge in Hel. Perchance he's hurt i' the battle.
with our horse upon our own wings, and to rend our Par. Lose our drum! well.
own soldiers ! Mar. He's shrewdly vexed at something. Look, he Fr. Gent. That was not to be blamed in the comhas spied us.
mand of the service: it was a disaster of war that Wid. Marry, hang you!
Cæsar himself could not have prevented, if he had Mar. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier ! been there to command. (Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Officers, and Soldiers. Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: Wid. The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring some dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but you
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 perPlease it this matron, and this gentle maid,
former, I would have that drum or another, or hic jacet. To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking Ber. Why, if you have a stomach to't, monsieur, if Shall be for me; and, to requite you farther, you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this I will bestow some precepts of this virgin,
instrument of honour again into his native quarter, be Worthy the note.
magnanimous in the enterprise, and go on; I will grace Both. We'll take your offer kindly. [Exeunt. the attempt for a worthy exploit : if you speed well in SCENE VI.— Camp before Florence.
it, the duke shall both speak of it, and extend to you Enter Bertram, and the two Frenchmen.
what farther becomes his greatness, even to the utmost
syllable of your worthiness. Fr. Env. Nay, good my lord, put him to't: let him Par. By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it.
Ber. But you must not now slumber in it. Fr. Gent. If your lordship find him not a hilding, Par. I'll about it this evening: and I will presently hold me no more in your respect.
pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my cerFr. Env. On my life, my lord, a bubble.
tainty, put myself into my mortal preparation, and by Ber. Do you think I am so far deceived in him ? midnight look to hear farther from me.
Fr. Env. Believe it, my lord: in mine own direct
Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite Par. I know not what the success will be, my lord; and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner but the attempt I vow.
have his way:
Ber. I know thou art valiant, and to the possibility In any staining act. of thy soldiership will subscribe for thee. Farewell. Hel.
Nor would I wishsyou. Par. I love not many words.
[Exit. First, give me trust, the count he is my husband, Fr. Env. No more than a fish loves water.-- Is not And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken, this a strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems ' Is so, from word to word; and then you cannot, to undertake this business, which he knows is not to By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, be done, damns himself to do, and dares better be Err in bestowing it. damned than to do't?
I should believe you; Fr. Gent. You do not know him, my lord, as we do: For you have show'd me that, which well approves certain it is, that he will steal himself into a man's You are great in fortune. favour, and for a week escape a great deal of discove- Hel.
Take this purse of gold, ries; but when you find him out, you have him ever after. And let me buy your friendly help thus far,
Ber. Why, do you think, he will make no deed at Which I wil over-pay, and pay again,
. The county woos your daughter, Fr. Env. None in the world, but return with an in- Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, vention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies. Resolved to carry her: let her, in fine, consent, But we have almost embossed him, you shall see his As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. fall to-night; for, indeed, he is not for your lordship’s Now, his important blood will nought deny respect.
That she'll demand: a ring the county wears,
To buy his will, it would not seem too dear,
Now I see Fr. Gent. As't please your lordship.
The bottom of your purpose. Fr. Ent. I'll leave you.
Hel. You see it lawful then. It is no more, Ber. Now will I lead you to the house, and show you But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, The lass I spoke of.
Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter ;
Ber. That's all the fault. I spoke with her but once, Herself most chastely absent. After this,
I have yielded.
That time and place, with this deceit so lawful,
Every night he comes,
With musics of all sorts, and songs compos'd
To her unworthiness : it nothing steads us,
To chide him from our eaves, for he persists
As if his life lay on't.
Why then, to-night I know not how I shall assure you farther,
Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.
Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed, Wid. Though my estate be fall'n, I was well born, And lawful meaning in a lawful act; Nothing acquainted with these businesses,
Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact. And would not put my reputation now
But let's about it.
ACT IV. SCENE I.-Without the Florentine Camp.
i' the adversary's entertainment. Now, he hath a Enter French Envoy, with five or six Soldiers in ambush. must every one be a man of his own fancy, not to know
smack of all neighbouring languages; therefore, we Fr. Env. He can come no other way but by this what we speak one to another; so we seem to know is hedge corner. When you sally upon him, speak what to go straight to our purpose : chough's language, gabterrible language you will: though you understand it ble enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter, not yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! here he understand him, unless some one among us, whom we comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to must produce for an interpreter.
return and swear the lies he forges. 1 Sold. Good captain, let me be the interpreter.
[They stand back. Fr. Env. Art not acquainted with him ? knows he
Enter PAROLLES. not thy voice?
Par. Ten o'clock : within these three hours 'twill be 1 Sold. No, sir, I warrant you.
time enough to go home. What shall I say I have Fr. Env. But what linsy-woolsy hast thou to speak done? It must be a very plausive invention that carto us again?
ries it. They begin to smoke me, and disgraces have 1 Sold. Even such as you speak to me.
of late knocked too often at my door.
I find, my Fr. Env. He must think us some band of strangers tongue is too foolbardy; but my heart bath the fear of
Mars before it, and of his creatures, not daring the We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him
Captain, I will
So I will, sir.
[Ereunt. say, “Came you off with so little ?” and great ones I
SCENE II.-Florence. A Room in the Widow's
Enter BERTRAM and Diana.
Ber. They told me, that your name was Fontibell.
If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,
When you are dead, you should be such a one
As you are now, for you are cold and stone;
When your sweet self was got.
be. Fr. Env. [Aside.] How deep?
My mother did but duty; such, my lord,
No more o' that:
I was compell’d to her; but I love thee
Do thee all rights of service,
Ay, so you serve us,
Till we serve you; but when you have our roses,
How have I sworn? 1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos.
Dia. 'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth,
If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,
I lov'd you dearly, would
believe The Florentine.
When I did love you ill ? this has no holding,
To swear by him, whom I protest to love,
Are words, and poor conditions, but unseal’d,
Change it, change it.
Be not so holy-cruel : love is holy,
0! pray, pray, pray.-- And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts, Manka rerania dulche.
That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,
Oscorbidulchos volivorcho. But give thyself unto my sick desires,
That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.
Ber. I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power
To give it from me.
Will you not, my lord ?
Ber. It is an honour 'longing to our house,
But wilt thou faithfully? Bequeathed down from many ancestors,
Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world
In me to lose.
Dia. Mine honour's such a ring :
Which 'twere the greatest obloquy i' the world