SCENE

III.

Changes to the French Camp in Florence.

Enter the two French Lords, and two or three Soldiers.

2 Lord. I bave deliver'd it an hour fince; there is fomething in't, that ftings his nature; for, on the reading it, he chang'd almoft into another man.

I Lord. He has much worthy blame laid upon him, for fhaking off fo good a wife, and fo fweet a lady.

2 Lord. Efpecially he hath incurred the everlasting difpleasure of the King, who had even tun'd his bounty to fing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but you fhall 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 chafte renown; and this night he fleshes his will in the fpoil of her honour; he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchafte compofition.

I Lord. Now God delay our rebellion; as we are ourfelves, what things are we!

2 Lord. Meerly our own traitors; and, as in the common courfe of all treafons, we ftill fee them reveal themselves, till they attain to their abhorr'd ends; fo

31 Lord] The later Editors have' with great liberality beftowed lordship upon thefe interlocutors, who, in the original edition, are called, with more propriety, capt. E. and capt. G. It is true that captain E. is in a former fcene called Lord E. but the fubordination in which they

feem to act, and the timorous manner in which they converfe, determines them to be only captains. Yet as the later readers of Shakespeare have been used to find them lords, I have not thought it worth while to degrade them in the margin.

he

he, that in this action contrives against his own Nobility, in his proper ftream o'erflows himself.

1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable in us to be the trumpeters of our unlawful intents? we fhall not then have his company to night?

2 Lord. Not 'till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour.

I Lord. That approaches apace: I would gladly have him fee his company anatomiz'd, that he might take a measure of his own Judgment', wherein fo curiously he hath fet 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 affure you, a Peace concluded. 2 Lord. What will Count Roufillon do then? will he travel higher, or return againin to France?

I Lord. I perceive by this demand, you are not altogether of his Council.

2 Lord. Let it be forbid, Sir! fo fhould I be a great deal of his act.

I Lord. Sir, his Wife fome two months fince filed from his Houfe, her pretence is Pilgrimage to St. Jaques le Grand; which holy Undertaking, with most auftere fanctimony, fhe accomplished; 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 juftified?

1 Lord. The stronger part of it by her own letters,

his own judgment.] This is a very juft and moral reason. Bertram, by finding how errone oufly he has judged, will be less confident, and more eafily moved by admonition.

which makes her story true, even to the point of her death; her Death itself (which could not be her office to fay, is come) was faithfully confirm'd 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 forry, that he'll be glad of this.

I Lord. How mightily fometimes we make us comforts of our loffes!

2 Lord. And how mightily fome other times we drown our gain in tears! the great dignity, that his valour hath here acquired for him, fhall at home be encounter'd with a fhame 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 defpair, if they were not cherifh'd by our virtues.

Enter a Servant:

How now? where's your mafter?

Serv. 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 fhall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can commend.

SCENE IV.

Enter Bertram.

1 Lord. They cannot be too fweet 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 fixten businesses; a

month's

month's length a-piece, by an abstract of fuccefs; I have congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourn'd for her; writ to-my lady mother, I am returning; entertain'd my convoy; and, between thefe main parcels of difpatch, effected many nicer needs: the laft was the greateft, but that I have not ended yet.

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

Ber. I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it hereafter. But fhall we have this dialogue between the fool and the foldier? come", bring forth this counterfeit module; h'as deceiv'd me, like a double-meaning prophefier.

2 Lord. Bring him forth; h'as fate in the Stocks all night, poor gallant knave.

Ber. No matter; his heels have deferv'd it, in ufurping his fpurs fo long. How does he carry himfelf?

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 fhed her milk; he hath confels'd himself to Morgan, whom he fuppoles to be a Friar, from the time of his remembrance to this very inftant difafter of his fetting i'th' Stocks; and what, think you, he hath confeft? Ber. Nothing of me, has he?

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

6

bring forth this counterfeit MODULE] This epithet is improper to a module, which profelles to be the counterfeit of another thing. We fhould read MEDAL. And this the Oxford

Editor follows. WARBURTON.

Module being the patern of any thing, may be here used in that fenfe. Bring forth this fellow, who, by counterfeit virtue pretended to make himself a pattern,

SCENE

1

Ber. A plague upon him, muffled! he can fay nothing of me; hufh! huh!

I Lord. Hoodman comes: Portotaroffa.

Inter. He calls for the tortures; what, will you say without 'em?

Par. I will confefs what I know without constraint; if you pinch me like a pafty, I can fay no more. Interp. Bofto Chimurcho.

2 Lord. Biblibindo chicurmurco.

Inter. You are a merciful General. Our General bids you answer to what I fhall afk you out of a note. Pur. And truly, as I hope to live.

Inter. First demand of him, how many Horse the Duke is strong. What fay you to that?

Par. Five or fix thousand, but very weak and unferviceable; the troops are all scatter'd, and the Commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live.

Inter. 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 paft-faving flave is this!

I Lord. Y'are deceiv'd; my Lord, this is Monfieur Parolles, the gallant militarist, that was his own phrase, that had the whole theory of war in the knot of his fcarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger.

2 Lord. I will never truft a man again for keeping his fword clean; nor believe, he can have every thing. in him by wearing his apparel neatly.

Inter. Well, that's fet down.

Par. Five or fix thousand horse I said, (I will fay true) or thereabouts, fet down; for I'll speak truth. I Lord.