SCENE VII.-Florence. A Room in the WIDOW's House. Enter HELENA and WIDOW. Hel. If you misdoubt me that I am not she, Wid. Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, Hel. Nor would I wish you. First, give me trust, the count he is my husband; Wid. I should believe you; For you have show'd me that which well approves Hel. Take this purse of gold, And let me buy your friendly help thus far, Which I will over-pay, and pay again, When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter, Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, Resolves to carry her; let her, in fine, consent, As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it, Wid. Now I see The bottom of your purpose. Hel. You see it lawful, then: It is no more Herself most chastely absent: after this, Wid. I have yielded: Instruct my daughter how she shall perséver, Hel. Why then, to-night Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, [Exeunt. ACT IV. 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 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 strangers 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 I 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 ?t 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. 1 Lord. We cannot afford you so. [Aside. Par. Or the baring of my beard; and to say, it was ín stra tagem. 1 Lord. "Twould not do. Par. Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. 1 Lord. Hardly serve. [Aside. [Aside. Par. Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel 1 Lord. How deep? Par. Thirty fathom. [Aside. 1 Lord. Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. [Aside. Par. I would I had any drum of the enemy's; I would swear I recovered it. 1 Lord. You shall hear one anon. Par. A drum now of the enemy's! [Aside. [Alarum within. 1 Lord. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. 1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos. I will discover that which shall undo The Florentine. 1 Sold. Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue :- Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards Par. Oh! 1 Sold. O, pray, pray, pray,Manka revania dulche. 1 Lord. Oscorbi dulchos volivorca. 1 Sold. The general is content to spare thee yet; And, hood-wink'd as thou art, will lead thee on o gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform Something to save thy life. Par. O, let me live, And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, 1 Sold. But wilt thou faithfully? Par. If I do not, damn me. 1 Sold. Acordo linta. Come on, thou art granted space. [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. SCENE II.-Florence. A Room in the WIDOW's House. Enter BERTRAM and DIANA. Ber. They told me that your name was Fontibell. Ber. Titled goddess; And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, When you are dead, you should be such a one Dia. She then was honest. Ber. So should you be. Dia. No: My mother did but duty; such, my lord, Ber. No more of that! I pr'ythee, do not strive against my vows: I was compelled to her; but I love thee By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever Dia. Ay, so you serve us, Till we serve you: but when you have our roses, And mock us with our bareness. Ber. How have I sworn? Dia. "Tis not the 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, But take the Highest to witness: Then, pray you, tell me If I should swear by Jove's great attributes, I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, When I did love you ill? This has no holding, To swear by him whom I protest to love, That I will work against him: Therefore, your oaths Are words, and poor conditions; but unseal'd; 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, Who then recover: say, thou art mine, and ever Dia. I see, that men make hopes, in such affairs, Dia. Will you not, my lord? Ber. It is an honour 'longing to our house, Dia. Mine honour's such a ring. Ber. Here, take my ring: My house, mine honour, yea, my life be thine, Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber window ; I'll order take, my mother shall not hear. 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 shall know them, And on your finger, in the night, I'll put Adieu, till then; then, fail not: You have won A wife of me, though there my hope be done. Ber. A heaven on earth I have won, by wooing thee. Dia. For which live long to thank both heaven and me! You may so in the end My mother told me just how he would woo, As if she sat in his heart; she says all men Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me, When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him, When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,* * Indecorously impetuous. [Exit. [Exit. |