SCENE I.-Florence. ACT III. A room in the Duke's Palace. Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; two French Lords, and others. Duke. So that, from point to point, now have you heard The fundamental reasons of this war; 1 Lord. Holy seems the quarrel Upon your grace's part: black and fearful On the opposer. Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin 2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of our nature. That surfeit on their ease, will, day by day, Come here for physic. Duke. Welcome shall they be; And all the honors, that can fly from us, Shall on them settle. You know your places well; When better fall, for your avails they fall: To-morrow to the field. [Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE II-Rousillon. A room in the Countess's Palace. Fnter COUNTESS and Clown. Oount. It hath happened all as I would have had it, save, that he comes not along with her. Clo. By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man. Count. By what observance, I pray you? Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing; mend the ruff, and sing; ask questions, and sing; pick his teeth, and sing; I know a man that had this trick of melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a song. Count. Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. Opening a letter. Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at court: our old ling and our Isbels o'the country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o'the court; the brains of my Cupid's knocked out; and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. Count. What have we here? [Exit. Count. [Reads] I have sent you a daughter-inlaw: she hath recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the not eternal. You shall hear, I am run away: know it, before the report come. If there be breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. BERTRAM. My duty to you. Your unfortunate son, This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, To fly the favors of so good a king; To pluck his indignation on thy head, By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous For the contempt of empire. Re-enter Clown. Clo. O madam, yonder is heavy news within, between two soldiers and my young lady. Count. What is the matter? Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news. Bome comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would. Count. Why should he be killed? a The folding at the top of the boot. Enter HELENA and two Gentlemen. 1 Gent. Save you, good madam. Count. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, gentlemen. I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, 2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: We met him thitherward; from thence we came, And after some dispatch in hand at court, Thither we bend again. Hel. Look on this letter, madam; here's my passport. !Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never shall come off, and show me a call me husband: but in such a then I write a never. child begotten of thy body, that Tam futher to, then This is a dreadful sentence. Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen? 1 Gent. Ay, madam; And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pans. Count. I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer; If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robb'st me of a moiety: He was my son; But I do wash his name out of my blood, And thou art all my child.-Towards Florence is he? 2 Gent. Ah, madam. Count. And to be a soldier! 2 Gent. Such is his noble purpose: and, believe't, The duke will lay upon him all the honor, That good convenience claims. Count. Return you thither! 1 Gent. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wings of speed. Hel. [Reads.] Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. 'Tis bitter. Count. Find you that there? Ay, madam. 1 Gent. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply which His heart was not consenting to. Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife! There's nothing here that is too good for him, But only she; and she deserves a lord, That twenty such rude boys might tend upon. And call her hourly, mistress. Who was with him! 1 Gent. A servant only, and a gentleman Which I have some time known. Count. ness. My son corrupts a well-derived nature 1 Gent. Count. You are welcome, gentlemen, [Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in Franc Nothing in France, until he has no wife! 3 Exchange. Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France, That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou And though I kill him not, I am the cause His death was so eilected: better 'twere I met the ravin' lion when he roar'd With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere Were mine at once: No, come thou home, Rousillon. Whence honor but of danger wins a scar, My being here it is that holds thee hence; To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! Exit. SCENE III.-Florence. Before the Duke's palace. Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, BERTRAM, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others Duke. The general of our horse thou art; and we, Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence Upon thy promising fortune. Ber. Sir, it is This very day, Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: Enter COUNTESS and Steward. Count. Alas! and would you take the letter of her? Might you not know, she would do as she has done, By sending me a letter? Read it again. Stew. I am saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: Ambitious love hath so in me offended, That berefoot plod I the cold ground upon, To this unworthy husband of his wife; SCENE V. Without the walls of Florence. A Tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of Flor ence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, MARIANA, and other Citizens. Wid. Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we shall lose all the sight. Dia. They say, the French count has done most honorable service. Wid. It is reported that he has taken their greatest commander; and that with his own hand he slew the duke's brother. We have lost our labor: they are gone a contrary way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. Mur. Come let's return again, and suffice ourselves with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl; the honor of a maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty. Wid. I have told my neighbor, how you have been solicited by a gentleman, his companion. Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a filthy officer he is in those suggestions" for the young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid hath been seduced by thein; and the misery is, example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope, I need not to advise you further; but, I hope, your own grace will keep you where you are, though there were no further danger known, but the modesty which is so lost. Diu. You shall not need to fear me. Enter HELENA, in the dress of a Pilgrim. Wid. I hope so.-Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know she will lie at my house: thither they send one another: I'll question her — God save you, pilgrim! Whither are you bound? Ay, marry, is it.-Hark you? With sainted von my faults to have amended. They come this way;-If you will tarry, holy pik Write, write, that from the bloody course of war, My dearest muster, your dear son may hie; Bess him at home in peace, whilst 1 from far, His name with zealous fervor sanctify: Hy laken labors bid him me forgive; 1. his dispiteful Juno, sent him forth Em courtly friends, with camping foes to live, Where death and danger dog the heels of worth; Htoo good and foir for death and me: Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. Crunt. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! Rinaldo, you did never lack advicee so much, Stew. madam: Pardon me, I had given you this at over night, She might have been o`erta en; and yet she writes, Fursuit would be in vain. Count. What angel shall Bs this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, Alluding to the story of Hercules. Discretion or thought. grim, But till the troops come by, I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd; The rather, for, I think, I know your hostess As ample as myself. Het. Is it yourself? Wid. If you shall please so, pilgrim. Hel. I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. I did so. Hel. Ay, surely, mere the truth; I know his lady. Dia. There is a gentleman, that serves the count, Reports but coarsely of her. Hel. Dia. Monsieur Parolles. Temptations. What's his name? Not what their names express. • Pilgrims; so called from a staff or bough of palm the were wont to carry. Because. Hel. O, I believe with him. sure, he knows not from the enemy: we will brd In argument of praise, or to the worth A las poor lady! Wil. A right good creature: wheresoe'er she is, Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd. and hood-wink him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when we bring him to our tents: Le but your lordship present at his examination; if be do not, for the promise of his life, and in the highest compulsion of base fear, offer to betray you, and deliver all the intelligence in his power against you, and that with the divine forfeit of his soul upon data, never trust my judgment in any thing. 2 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; he says he has a stratagem for't: when your lordship sees the bottom of his success in t How do you mean? and to what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be melted, if you give him not John Drum's entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes. May be, the amorous count solicits her Wid. He does, indeed; But she is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard Enter, with Drum and Colors, a Party of the Mar. The gods forbid else! So, now they come:- Hel. Which is the Frenchman? He; That with the plume: tis a most gallant fellow; Hel. Ike him well. Dia. "Tis pity, he is not honest: Yond's that same knave. That leads him to these places; were I his lady, Hel. Which is he? Enter PAROLLES. 1 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not the humor 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 lost!-There was an excellent command! to charze 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 Lad been there to command. Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our suc cess: some dishonor we had in the loss of that drum: but it is not to be recovered. Par. It might have been recovered. Pur. It is to be recovered; but that the merit of service is seldom attributed to the true and exact Di. That jack-an-apes with scarfs: Why is he performer, I would have that drum or another, or melancholy? his jacet. Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'the battle. Pur. Lose our drum! well. Ber. Why, if you have a stomach to't, monsieer, if you think your mystery in stratagem can bring Mar. He's shrewdly vexed at something: Look, this instrument of honor again into its nate he has spied us. Wid. The troop is past: Come, pilgrim, I will Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents Hel. We'll take your offer kindly. SCENE VI.-Camp before Florence. 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. Ber. Do you think, I am so far deceived in him? 1 Lord. Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, without any malice but to speak of him as my kinsman, he's a inost notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's entertainment. 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. Br. 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. quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprize, and o Par. By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. Par. I'll about it this evening; and I will presently pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my certainty, put myself into my mortal prepa ration, and by midnight, look to hear further from ne Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his grace, you are gone about it? Par. I know not what the success will be, my lord; but the attempt I vow. 1 Lord. No more than a fish loves water.-Is dently seems to undertake this business, which be not this a strange fellow, my lord! that so contdares better be damned than to do't. knows is not to be done; damns himself to do, and 2 Lord. You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it is, that he will steal himself into a man s favor, and, for a week, escape a great deal of discoveries: but when you find him out, you have invention, and clap upon you two or three probale 1 Lord. None in the world; but return with an lies: but we have almost embossed him: you shill see his fall to-night; for, indeed, he is not for your lordship's respect. 2 Lord. We'll make you some sport with the fox, lord Lafeu: when his disguise and he is på ted, tel ere we case him. He was first smoked by the of me what, a sprat you shall find him; which y shall see this very night. SCENE VII.-Florence. A Room in the Enter HELENA and Widow. Hel. If you misdoubt me that I am not she, I know not how I shall assure you further, Bet I shall lose the grounds I work upon. Take this purse of gola, Hel. Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, Wid. The bottom of your purpose. Hel. You see it lawful then: It is no more, But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; In fine, delivers me to fill the time, Herself most chastely absent: after this, To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns To what is past already. Wid. I have yielded: Wid. Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, Instruct my daughter how she shall perséver, Nor would I wish you. First, give me trust, the count he is my husband; Wil. That time and place, with this deceit so lawful, Hel. [Exeunt. ACT I V. SCENE 1-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' corner: When you sally upon him, speak what terrible language you will though you understand it not yourselves, no matter: for we must not scem to understand him; unless some one among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter. 1 Sat. Good captain, let me be the interpreter. 1 Lord. Art not acquainted with him? knows be not thy voice? 1 Sold. No, sir. I warrant you. 1 Lord. But what linsy-woolsy hast thou to speak to us again? 1 Sald. Even such as you speak to me. 1 Led. He must think us some band of strangers 7 the adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of all neighboring languages; therefore we aust every one be a man of his own fancy, not to kow 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. for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges. Enter PAROLLES. As P. Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be time enough to go home. What shall I say I have done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries it: They begin to smoke me; and disEres have of late knocked too often at my door. I fnd my tongue is too fool-hardy but my heart hath the fear of Mars before it, and of his creatures, not da ng the reports of my tongue. 1 Lord. This is the first truth that e'er thine Gan tongue was guilty of. Aside. Par. What the devil should move me to underake 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, Le Foreign troops in the enemy's pay. 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, and be that he is! Is it possible, he should know what he [Asile. 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. 1 Lord. Throca morousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All Cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo. Par. O! ransome, ransome :-Do not hide mine eyes. They seize him, and blindfold him. 1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos. Pur. I know you are the Muskos' regiment. And I shall lose my life for want of language: if there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, Italian, or French, let him speak to me, will discover that which shall undo The Florentine. 1 Sold. Boskos vauvado : I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue : — Kerelybonto: -Sir: Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards Are at thy bosom. lock'd. So I will, sir. 1 Lord. Till then, I'll keep him dark, and safely [Exeunt. SCENE II. Florence. A Room in the Widow's House. Ente BERTRAM and DIANA. Ber. They told me, that your name was Fontibell. Titled goddess; Dia. She then was honest. Dia. So should you be. My mother did but duty: such, my lord, As you owe to your wife. Ber. No: No more of that! I pry thee, do not strive against my vows: I was compell'd to her; but I love thee By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever Do thee all rights of service. Dia. Ay, so you serve us, Till we serve you but when you have our roses, You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves, And mock us with our bareness. How have I sworn Ber. Dia. 'Tis not thy many oaths that make the truth: But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true. What is not holy, that we swear not by, Here, take my ring: My house, mine honor, yea, my life be thine, And I'll be bid by thee. Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber window; I'll order take, my mother shall not hear. When back again this ring shall be deliver'd. Dia. For which live long to thank both heaven and me! s 2 Lord. Especially he hath incurred the everia. ing displeasure of the king, who had even tuned bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell yða 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 gentlewomar here in Florence, of a most chaste renown; a. this night he fleshes his will in the spoils of hi honor: 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 But take the Highest to witness: Then, pray you, common course of all treasons, we still see then tell me, If I should swear by Jove's great attributes, Ber. Change it, change it; Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts, That you do charge men with: Stand no more off, But give thyself unto my sick desires, Who then recover: say, thou art mine, and ever My love, as it begins, shall so persevere. Dia. I see, that men make hopes, in such affairs, That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. Ber. I'll lend it thee, my dear, but have no power 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? wi 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 1 Crafty, deceitful. 2 Here, as elsewhere, used ad verbially. 3 For con panion |
