I 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 Mafter? 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 fhall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can commend. 1 Lord.THEY cannot be too fweet for the King's 1 Lord. Tartnefs: 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 success; 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; entertained my convoy; and, between these 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 Medal; h'as deceiv'd me, like a double-meaning prophefier. 2 Lord. Bring him forth; h'as fat in the Stocks all night, poor gallant knave. Ber. 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 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 inftant difafter of his setting i'th' Stocks; and what, think you, he hath confeft? Ber. Nothing of me, has he? 2 Lord. His confeffion 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 fay nothing of me; hush! hush! 1 Lord. Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa. Int. He calls for the tortures; what will you fay without 'em? Par. I will confefs what I know without constraint; if ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. Int. Bofko Chimurcho. 2 Lord. Biblibindo chicurmurco. Int. You are a merciful General: our General bids you answer to what, I fhall ask you out of a note. Par. And truly, as I hope to live. Int. Firft demand of him, how many Horse the Duke is ftrong. What fay you to that? Par. Five or fix thoufand, 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. 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 militarift, 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. Int. Well, that's fet down. Par. Five or fix thousand horse I faid (I will fay true) or thereabouts, fet down, for I'll speak truth. 1 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 fet 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 fay you to that? Par. By my troth, Sir, if I were to live this. prefent hour, I will tell true. Let me fee; Spurio a hundred and fifty, Sebaftian so many, Corambus fo many, Jaques fo many; Guiltian, Cofmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and fifty each: fo that the mufter file, rotten and found, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand Poll; half of the which dare not shake the fnow from off their caffocks, left they shake themselves to pieces. Ber. What fhall be done to him? Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my conditions, and what credit I have with the Duke. Int. Well, that's fet down. You fhall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain be i'th' camp, a Frenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, what his valour, honefly, and expertnefs in war; or whether he thinks, it were not poffible with well weighing weighing fums of gold to corrupt him to revolt. What fay you to this? what do you know of it? Par. I befeech you, let me anfwer to the particular of the Interrogatories. Demand them fingly. 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 fheriff's fool with child; a dumb innocent, that could not fay 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 lowfy. 1 Lord. Nay, look not fo 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 fearch. Par. In good fadness, 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, fhall I read it to you? Par. I do not know, if it be it or no. Ber. Our Interpreter does it well. 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 ruttifh. I pray you, Sir, put it up again. Int. Nay, I'll read it firft, by your favour. Par. My meaning in't, I proteft, was very honeft in the behalf of the maid: for I knew the young Count 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 he fwears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it. Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear, PAROLLES. Ber. He fhall be whipt through the army with this rhime in his forehead. 2 Lord. This is your devoted friend, Sir, the manifold linguift, and the armi-potent foldier. : Ber. I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now he's a cat to me. Int. I perceive, Sir, by the General's looks, we fhall be fain to hang you. Par. My life, Sir, in any cafe; not that I am afraid to die; but that my offences being many, I would repent out the remainder of nature. Let me live, Sir, in a Dungeon, i'th' Stocks, any where, fo I may live. Int. We'll fee what may be done, so you confefs freely; therefore, once more, to this Captain Dumain: you have anfwer'd to his reputation with the Duke, and to his valour. What is his honesty? Par. He will fleal, Sir, an egg out of a cloister; for rapes and ravishments he parallels Neffus. He profeffes no keeping of oaths; in breaking them he is ftronger than Hercules. He will lie, Sir, with fuch volubility, that you would think, truth were a fool: drunk |