Par. Why, do you not know him? Ber. Yes, I do know him well; and common speech Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, Ber. Ishall obey his will. You must not marvel, Helena, at my course, So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat you, To you, that know them not. This to my mother! [Giving a letter. "Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so I leave you to your wisdom. Hel. Sir, I can nothing say, But that I am your most obedient servant. Ber. Come, come, no more of that. SCENE I.-Florence. 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, Whose great decision hath much blood let forth, 1 Lord. Holy seems the quarrel Upon your grace's part; black and fearful On the opposer. SCENE II.-Rousillon. A room in the Countess's palace. Enter Countess and Clown. Count. 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? Col. 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 [Opening a letter, means to come. 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? Clo. E'en that you have there. [Exit. Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daughter-in-law: 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. My duty to you. Your unfortunate son, BERTRAM. This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, 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,some comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would. Count. Why should he be kill'd? Clo. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of men, though it be the getting of children. Here they come, will tell you more: for my part, I only hear, your [Exit Clown. Enter HELENA and two Gentlemen. son was run away. 1 Gent. Save you, good madam! Count.Think upon patience!-'Pray you, gentlemen, Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin France I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom Against our borrowing prayers. 2 Lord. Good my lord, The reasons of our state I cannot yield, That the first face of neither, on the start, Can woman me unto't. Where is my son, I pray you? 2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Flo rence: We met him thitherward: from thence we came, And, after some dispatch in hand at court, Thither we bend again. That all the miseries, which nature owes, Hel. Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon, [Reads.]When thou canst get the ring upon my fing-Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, er, which never shall come off,and show me a child begotten of thy body, that I am father to, then call me husband: but in such a then I write a never. This is a dreadful sentence. Count, Brought you this letter, gentlemen? And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains. And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? 2 Gent. Ay, 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 honour, That good convenience claims. Count. Return you thither? 1 Gent. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. Hel. [Reads.] Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. 'Tis bitter. Count. Find you that there? Hel. 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 tweuty 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. Parolles, was't not? 1 Gent. Ay, my good lady, he. As oft it loses all; I will be gone : Ber. Sir, it is Enter Countess and Steward. Count. Alas! and would you take the letter of her? Stew. Iam Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone; Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon, My son corrupts a well-derived nature With his inducement. 1 Gent. Indeed, good lady, The fellow has a deal of that, too much, Count. You are welcome, gentlemen; 2 Gent. We serve you, madam, Count. Not so, but as we change our courtesies. Will you draw near? [Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. Nothing in France, until he has no wife! Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France, That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere With sainted vow my faults to have amended. Write, write, that, from the bloody course of war, My dearest master, your dear son, may hie; Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from fur His name with zealous fervour sanctify: His taken labours bid him me forgive; I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, Stew. Pardon me, madam! If I had given you this at over-night, She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, Count. What angel shall Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, SCENE V.-Without the walls of Florence. Dia. They say, the French count has done most honourable 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 labour; they are gone a contrary way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. Mar. Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty. Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have been solicited by a gentleman, his companion. In argument of praise, or to the worth I have not heard examin'd. 'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife Wid. A right good creature: wheresoe'er she is, Hel. How do you mean? May be, the amorous count solicits her And brokes with all that can in such a suit Enter with drum and colours, a party of the Floren- Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a Hel. Which is the Frenchman? That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow; Enter HELENA, in the dress of a pilgrim. God save you, pilgrim! Whither are you bound? Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? Wid. Ay, marry, is it. Hark you! [Amarch afar off. I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd; Hel. Is it yourself? Wid. If you shall please so, pilgrim. Hel. I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. Hel. I did so. Wid. Here you shall see a countryman of yours, That has done worthy service. Hel. His name, I pray you. Dia. The count Rousillon. Know you such a one? Hel. But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him; His face I know not. Dia. Whatsoe'er he is, He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, Hel Ay, surely, mere the truth; I know his lady. Hel. What's his name? Hel. O, I believe with him, Hel. I like him well. Dia. 'Tis pity, he is not honest. -Yond's that same knave, Hel. Which is he? Dia. That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy? Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'the battle. Par. Lose our drum! well. Mar. He's shrewdly vexed at something: Wid. Marry, hang you! Mar. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! [Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, Officers,and Soldiers. Hel. I humbly thank you : Please it this matron, and this gentle maid, To eat with us to-night, the charge, and thanking, I will bestow some precepts on this virgin, Worthy the note. Both. We'll take your offer kindly. [Exeunt. SCENE VI.-Camp before Florence. Enter BERTRAM, and the two French Lords. 1 Lord. Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his way! 2 Lord. If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold 1 Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble. 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 most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's entertain ment. 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. Ber. I would, I knew in what particular action to try him. 2Lord.None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. 1 Lord. I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly surprise him; such I will have, whom, I am sure, he knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink 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. Be but your lordship present at his examination; if he 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 oath, never trust my judgement 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, 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. Enter PAROLLES. 1 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not the humour of his design ; let him fetch off his drum in any hand. 2 Lord. You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it is, that he will steal himself into a man's favour,and, for a week,escape a great deal of discoveries; but when you find him out, you have him ever after. Ber. Why, do you think, he will make no deed at all of this,that so seriously he does address himself unto? 1 Lord. None in the world, but return with an invention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we have almost embossed him, you shall 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, ere 2 Lord. But, you say, she's honest. [Exeunt. Florence. A room in the Widow's house. 2 Lord. With all my heart, my lord. 2 Lord. A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. 2 Lord. That was not to be blamed in the command of the service; it was a disaster of war that Caesar himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to command. Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is not to be recovered. Par. It might have been recovered. Enter HELENA and Widow. Hel. If you misdoubt me that I am not she, Hel. Nor would I wish you. Wid. I should believe you; You are great in fortune. Par. It is to be recovered: but that the merit of service is seldom attributed to the true and exact perform-For you have show'd me that, which well approves, er, I would have that drum or another, or hic jacet. Ber. Why, if you have a stomach to't, monsieur, if you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument of honour again into his native quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprize, and go on; I will grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it, and extend to you what further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your worthiness. Par. By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. Ber. But you must not now slumber in 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 preparation, and, by midnight, look to hear further from me. 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. Ber. I know, thou art valiant ; and, to the possibility of thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. Par. I love not many words. Hel. Take this purse of gold, Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, Wid. Now I see The bottom of your purpose. Hel. You see it lawful then. It is no more, But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, [Exit. Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; 1 Lord. No more than a fish loves water.-Is not this In fine, delivers me to fill the time, a strange fellow, my lord? that so confidently seems to Herself most chastely absent: after this, undertake this business, which he knows is not to be To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns doue; damns himself to do, and dares better be dam-To what is past already. ned than to do't? 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, And lawful meaning in a lawful act; Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact! SCENE I. Par. A drum now of the enemy's! [Alarum within. 1 Lord. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All. Cargo, cargo, villianda, par corbo, cargo. [Exeunt. Par. O! ransom, ransom! Do not hide mine eyes! [They seize him and blindfold him. Without the Florentine camp. 1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos. The Florentine. Enter first Lord, with five or six soldiers in ambush. 1 Sold. Good captain, let me be the interpreter! 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. ↑ 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 foolhardy; 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. I 1 Sold. Boskos vauvado: Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards Par. Oh! 1 Sold. O, pray, pray, pray.— 1 Lord. Oscorbi dulchos volivorca. Par. IfI do not, damn me! [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 Enter BERTRAM and DIANA. Par. What the devil should move me to undertake the recovery of this drum; being not ignorant of the SCENE II. - Florence. A room in the Widow's house. 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? 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. 'Twould not do. And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, Dia. No: [Aside. My mother did but duty; such, my lord, Par. Orto drown my clothes, and say, I was stripped. As you owe to your wife. 1 Lord. Hardly serve. [Aside. Ber. No more of that! |