SCENE III.

The Florentine camp.

Enter TWO FRENCH LORDS, and Two or THREE

SOLDIERS.

1 Lord. You have not given him his mother's letter?

2 Lord. I have delivered it an hour since: there is something in 't that stings his nature; for, on the reading it, he changed almost into another man.

1 Lord. He has much worthy blame laid upon him, for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a lady.

2 Lord. Especially he hath incurred the everlasting displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you 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 gentlewoman here in Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her 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 common course of all treasons, we still see them reveal themselves, till they attain to their abhorred

ends; so he, that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself.1

1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable 2 in us, to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents ? We shall 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 see his company 3 anatomised; that he might take a measure of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit.

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

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? 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! so should I be a great deal of his act.

1 Lord. Sir, his wife, some two months since, fled from his house; her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le grand; which holy undertaking with

1 Betrays his own secrets in his own talk.

most austere sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing, the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath; and now she sings in heaven.

2 Lord. How is this justified?

1 Lord. The stronger 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 say, is come, was faithfully confirmed 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 sorry, that he'll be glad of this.

1 Lord. How mightily, sometimes, we make us comforts of our losses!

2 Lord. And how mightily, some other times, we drown our gain in tears! The great dignity, that his valor hath here acquired for him, shall at home be encountered with a shame 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 despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.

Enter a SERVANT.

How now? where's your master?

Ser. He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next

morning for France. The duke hath offered him letters of commendations to the king.

2 Lord. They shall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can commend.

Enter BERTRAM.

1 Lord. They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. Here's his lordship now. How now, my lord, is 't not after midnight?

Ber. I have to-night despatched sixteen businesses, a month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success : I have conge'd with the duke; done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my lady mother, I am returning; entertained my convoy; and, between these main parcels of despatch, effected many nicer needs: the last was the greatest, but that I have not ended yet.

2 Lord. If the business be of any difficulty, and this morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your lordship.

Ber. I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come, bring forth this counterfeit module: 1 he has deceived me, like a double-meaning prophesier.

2 Lord. Bring him forth. [Exeunt Soldiers.] He has sat in the stocks all night, poor gallant knave! Ber. No matter; his heels have deserved it, in

1 Model, pattern.

usurping his spurs 1 so long. How does he carry himself?

1 Lord. I have told your lordship already; the stocks carry him. But, to answer you as you would be understood; he weeps, like a wench that had shed her milk he hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance, to this very instant disaster of his sitting i' the stocks: and what think you he hath confessed?

Ber. Nothing of me, has he?

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

Re-enter SOLDIERS, with PAROLLES.

Ber. A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of me: hush! hush!

1 Lord. Hoodman comes!-Porto tartarossa.

1 Sol. He calls for the tortures. What will you say without 'em?

Par. I will confess what I know without constraint: if ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no

more.

1 Sol. Bosko chimurcho.

2 Lord. Boblibindo chicurmurco.

1 Sol. You are a merciful general.

Our general

In allusion to the degradation of a knight, by hacking off his spurs.