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 fince fled from his House, her pretence is a Pilgrimage to St. Jaques le Grand; which holy Undertaking, with moft austere sanctimony, the accomplish'd; and there refiding, the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now the fings 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 it self (which could not be her office to say, is come) was faithfully confirm'd by the Rector of the place. 2 Lord. Hath the Count all this intelligence? I Lord. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, to the full arming of the verity. 2 Lord. I am heartily forry, that he'll be glad of this. I 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 valour hath here acquired for him, shall at home be encounter'd 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 whipt them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherish'd 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 folemn 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 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 dispatch'd fixteen businesses, a month's length a-piece, by an abstract of fuccess; I have congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his neareft; buried a wife, mourn'd for her; writ to my lady mother, I am returning; entertain'd my convoy; and, between these main parcels of dispatch, 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 foldier ? come, bring forth this counterfeit module; h'as deceiv'd me, like a doublemeaning prophefier. 2 Lord. Bring him forth; h'as fate in the Stocks all hight, poor gallant knave. Ber. No matter; his heels have deserv'd it, in ufurping his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? I 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 confefs'd himself to Morgan, whom he supposes to be a Friar, from the time of his remembrance to this very instant disaster of his fetting i'th' Stocks; and what, think you, he hath confeft? 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. Enter Parolles, with his Interpreter. Ber. A plague upon him, muffled! he can say nothing of me; hush! hush! I Lord. 1 Lord. Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa. Int. 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. Int. Bosko Chimurcho. 2 Lord. Biblibindo chicurmurco. Int. You are a merciful General: our General bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. Par. And truly, as I hope to live. Int. First demand of him, how many Horse the Duke is strong. What say you to that? Par. Five or fix thousand, but very weak and unserviceable; the troops are all scatter'd, and the Commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live. Int. Shall I fet down your answer so ? Par. Do, I'll take the Sacrament on't, how and which way you will: all's one to me. Ber. What a past-saving slave is this! 1 Lord. Y'are deceiv'd, my Lord, this is Monfieur Parolles, the gallant militarist, that was his own phrafe, that had the whole theory of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger. 2 Lord. I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword clean; nor believe, he can have every thing in him by wearing his apparel neatly. Int. Well, that's fet down. Par. Five or fix thousand horse I said, (I will fay true,) or thereabouts, set down; for I'll speak truth. I Lord. He's very near the truth in this. Ber. But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he delivers it. Par. Poor rogues, I pray you, fay. Int. Well, that's set down. Par. I humbly thank you, Sir; a truth's a truth, the rogues are marvellous poor. Int. Demand of him, of what strength they are a-foot. What say you to that? Par. By my troth, Sir, if I were to live this present hour, hour, I will tell true. Let me fee; Spurio a hundred and fifty, Sebastian so many, Corambus so many, Jaques so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and fifty each; so that the muster file, rotten and found, upon my life amounts not to fifteen thousand Poll; half of the which dare not shake the snow from off their cassocks, left they shake themselves to pieces. Ber. What shall be done to him? 1 Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my conditions, and what credit I have with the Duke. Int. Well, that's set down. You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain be i'th' camp, a Frenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, what his valour, honesty, and expertness in war; or whether he thinks, it were not poffible with wellweighing sums of gold to corrupt him to a revolt. What say you to this? what do you know of it? Par. I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of the Interrogatories. Demand them singly. Int. Do you know this Captain Dumain? Par. I know him; he was a botcher's prentice in Paris, from whence he was whipt for getting the sheriff's fool with child; a dumb innocent, that could not say him nay. Ber. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; tho' I know, his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. Int. Well, is this Captain in the Duke of Florence's Camp? Par. Upon my knowledge he is, and lowfie. 1 Lord. Nay, look not so upon me, we shall hear of your Lordship anon. Int. What is his reputation with the Duke? Par. The Duke knows him for no other but a poor officer of mine, and writ to me the other day to turn him out o'th' band. I think, I have his letter in my pocket. Int. Marry, we'll search. VOL. III. Par. In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, or it is upon the file with the Duke's other letters in my tent. Int. Here 'tis, here's a paper, shall I read it to you? 1 Lord. Excellently. Int. Dian, the Count's a fool, and full of gold. Par. That is not the Duke's letter, Sir; that is an advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count Roufillon, a foolish idle boy; but, for all that, very ruttish. I pray you, Sir, put it up again. Int. Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. Par. My meaning in't, I protest, was very honeft in the behalf of the maid; for I knew the young Count to be a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds. Ber. Damnable! both fides rogue. Interpreter reads the letter. When be fwears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it. Half won, is match well made; match, and well make it: Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear, PAROLLES. (22) Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss.] All the Editors have obtruded a new Maxim upon us here, that Boys art not to kiss. Livia, in Beaumont and Fletcher's Tamer tam'd is of a quite opposite Opinion. For Boys were made for Nothing but dry Kiffes. And our Poet's Thought, I am perswaded, went to the fam Tune; that Boys are only to kiss; Men to mingle with, an give more substantial Pleasures. To mell, is deriv'd from the French Word, meler; to mingle. Ber |