tainty, 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, th'art valiant; and to the possibility of thy foldiership, will subscribe for thee; farewel. Par. I love not many words. [Exit Is not 1 Lord. No more than a fish loves water. this a strange fellow, my Lord, that so confidently seems to undertake this business, which he knows is not to be done; damns himself to do it, and dares better be damn'd than to do't? 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? 2 Lord. None in the world, but return with an invention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies; but we have almost imboss'd him, you shall sée his fall to night; for, indeed, he is not for your lordship's respect. I Lord. We'll make you some sport with the fox, ere we cafe him. He was first smoak'd by the old lord Lafeu; when his disguife and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall fee, this very night. 2 Lord. caught. I must go and look my twigs; he shall be Ber. Your brother, he shall go along with me. [Exit. Ber. Now will I lead you to the house, and shew you The lafs I spoke of. Lord. But you say, she's honest. Ber. Ber. That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once, And found her wondrous cold; but I fent to her, By this same coxcomb that we have i'th wind, Tokens and letters, which she did re-fend; And this is all I've done: she's a fair creature, Will you go fee her? Hel. Lord. With all my heart, my lord. [Exeunt SCENE changes to the Widow's House. Enter Helena, and Widow. F you misdoubt me that I am not she, I know not, how I shall assure you further; But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. Hel. Nor would I wish you. First, give me trust, the Count he is my husband Wid. I should believe you, For you have shew'd me that, which well approves Y'are great in fortune. Hel. Take this purse of gold, And let me buy your friendly help thus far, When I have found it. The Count wooes your daughter, In In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, Wid. Now I fee the bottom of your purpose. Wid. I have yielded : Instruct my daughter how she shall persevere, Hel. Why then, to night ACT IV. SCENE, Part of the French Camp in Florence. Enter one of the French Lords, with five or fix Soldiers in ambush. H LORD. E can come no other way but by this hedge-corner; when you fally upon him, speak what ter rible language you will; though you understand it not your selves, no matter; for we must not seem to understand him, unless some one amongst us, whom we muft produce for an interpreter. Sol. Good captain, let me be th' interpreter. Lord. Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? Sol. No, Sir, I warrant you. Lord. But what linfie-woolfie haft thou to speak to us again? Sol. Ev'n such as you speak to me. Lord. He must think us some band of strangers i'th adversaries' 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 feem very politick. But couch, hoa! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a fleep, 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? done? it must be a very plausive invention that carries it. They begin to smoak me, and disgraces have of late knock'd 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. Lord. This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue was guilty of. [Afide. 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 my self some hurts, and say, I got them in exploit; yet flight ones will not carry it. They will fay, came you off with so little? and great ones I dare not give; wherefore what's the instance? Tongue, I muft put you into a butter-woman's mouth, and buy my felf another of Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. Lord. Is it possible, he should know what he is, and be that he is ? [Afide. Par. I would, the cutting of my garments would ferve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword. Lord. We cannot afford you so. [Afide. Par. Or the baring of my beard, and to say, it was in stratagem. Lord. 'Twould not do. [Afide. Par. Or to drown my cloaths, and say, I was stript. Afide. Par. Though I swore, I leap'd from the window of Lord. Hardly serve. the cittadel Lord. How deep ? Par. Thirty fathom. believed. [Afide. Lord. Three great oaths would scarce make that be [Afide. Par. I would, I had any drum of the enemies; I would swear, I recover'd it. Lord. You shall hear one anon. [Afide. Par. A drum now of the enemies! [Alarum within. Lord. Throco movoufus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All. Garge, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo. |