what we speak one to another ; so we seem to know is
to go straight to our purpose : chough's language, gab-
ble enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter,
you must seem very politic. But couch, ho ! here he
comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to
return and swear the lies he forges. [They stand back. 1
Enter PAROLLES.
Par. Ten o'clock : within these three hours 't will be
time enough to go home. What shall I say I have
done ? It must be a very plausive invention that car-
ries it. They begin to smoke me. and disgraces have
of late knocked too often at my door. I find, my
tongue is too foolhardy ; but my heart hath the fear of
Mars before it, and of his creatures, not daring the
reports of my tonsue.
Fr. Env. [Aside.] This is the first truth that e'er
thine own tongue was guilty of.
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 myself some hurts, and say, I got them in
exploit. Yet slight ones will not carry it : they will
say, " Came you off with so little ?" and great ones I
dare not give. Wherefore ? what 's the instance ?
Tongue, I must put you into a butter- woman's mouth,
and buy myself another of Bajazet's mule, if you
prattle me into these perils.
Fr. Env. [Aside.] Is it possible, he should know
what he is, and be that he is?
Par. I would the cutting of my garments would
serve the turn ; or the breaking of my Spanish sword ,
Fr. Env. [Aside.] We cannot afford you so.
Par. Or the baring of my beard ; and to say, it was
in stratagem.
Fr. Env. [ Aside] 'T would not do.
Par. Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.
Fr. Env. [Aside] Hardly serve.
Par. Though I swore I leaped from the window of
the citadel
Fr. Env. [Aside] How deep ?
Par. Thirty falhom.
Fr. Env. [Aside.] Three great oaths would scarce
make that be believed.
8C. I. ALL 'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 21 1
Par. I would I had any drum of the enemy's : 1
would swear I recovered it.
Fr. Env. [Aside.] You shall hear one anon.
Par. A drum, now, of the enemy's !
[Alarum within
Fr. Env Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
All. Cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.
Par. ! ransom, ransom ! Do not hide mine eyes.
[They seize and blindfold him
1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos.
Par. I know you are the Muskos' regiment ;
And I shall lose my life for want of language.
If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch,
Italian, or French, let him speak to me :
I will discover that which shall undo
The Florentine.
1 Sold. Boskos vauvado :
I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue.
Kerelybonto. Sir,
Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards
Are at thy bosom.
Par. ' !
1 Sold. ! pray, pray, pray.
Manka revania dulche.
Fr. Env. Oscorbidulchos volivorcho.
1 . Sold. The general is content to spare thee yet,
And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on
To gather from thee : haply, thou may'st inform
Something to save thy life.
Par. ! let me live,
And all the secrets of our camp I '11 show.
Their force, their purposes ; nay, I '11 speak that
Which you will wonder at.
1 Sold. But wilt thou faithfully?
Par. If I do not, damn me.
1 Sold. Acordo linta.
Come on : thou art granted space.
[Exit with PAKOLLES guarded.
Fr. Env. Go, tell the count Rousillon. and my bro-
ther,
We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him
muffled,
Fill we do hear from them.
2 Sold. Captain, I will.
212 ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. ACT iv.
Fr. Env. A' will betray us all unto ourselves :
Inform on that.
2 Sold. So I will. sir.
Fr. Env. Till then, I '11 keep him dark, and safely
lock'd. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. Florence. A Room in the Widow's
House.
Enter BERTRAM and DIANA.
Ber. They told me that your name was Fontibell.
Dia. No, my good lord, Diana.
Ber. Titled goddess,
And worth it. with addition ! But, fair soul,
In your fine frame hath love no quality ?
If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,
You are no maiden, but a monument :
When you are dead, you should be such a one
As you are now, for you are cold and stone ; l
And now you should be as your mother was,
When your sweet self was got.
Dia. She then was honest.
Ber. So should you be.
Dia. No :
My mother did but duty ; such, my lord,
As you owe to your wife.
Ber. No more o' that :
I pr'ythee, do not strive against my vows.
[ was compell'd to her ; but I love thee
By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever
Do thee all rights of service.
Dia. Ay, so you serve us,
Till we serve you ; but when you have our roses,
You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,
And mock us with our bareness.
Ber. How have I sworn ?
Dia. 'T is not the many oaths that make the truth,
But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.
What is not holy, that we swear not by,
But take the highest to witness : then, pray you, tell me
If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,
I lov'd you dearly, would you believe my oaths,
When I did love you ill ? this has no holding,
To swear by him, whom I protest to love,
stern : in f. e.
so. ii. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 213
That I will work against him. Therefore, your oaths
Are words, and poor conditions, but unseal'd,
At least, in my opinion.
Ber. Change it, change it.
Be not so holy-cruel : love is holy,
And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts,
That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,
But give thyself unto my sick desires,
Who then recover : say. thou art mine, and ever
My love, as it begins, shall so persever.
Dia. I see, that men make hopes in such a suit 1
That we '11 forsake ourselves. Give me that ring
Ber. I '11 lend it thee, my dear ; but have no power
To give it from me.
Dia. Will you not, my lord ?
Ber. It is an honour 'longing to our house,
Bequeathed down from many ancestors,
Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world
In me to lose.
Dia. Mine honour 's such a ring :
My chastity 's the jewel of our house,
Bequeathed down from many ancestors,
Which 't were the greatest obloquy i' the world
[n me to lose. Thus, your own proper wisdom
Brings in the champion, honour, on my part
Against your vain assault.
Ber. Here, take my ring :
My house, mine honour, yea, my life be thine,
And I '11 be bid by thee.
Dia,. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber
window :
I '11 order take my mother shall not hear.
Now will I charge you in the band of truth,
When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed,
Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me.
My reasons are most strong; and you shall knew
them,
When back again this ring shall be deliver'd :
And on your finger, in the night, I '11 put
Another ring: that what in time proceeds
May token to the future our past deeds.
Adieu, till then ; then, fail not. You have won
A wife of me, though there my hope be none a .
1 f. e. : make ropes in such a scarre. 8 done : in f. e.
214 ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. ACT iv,
Ber. A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.
[Ex*
Dia. For which live long to thank both heaven
and me !
You may so in the end,
My mother told me just how he would woo,
As if she sat in 's heart : she says, all men
Have the like oaths. He had sworn to marry me,
When his wife 's dead ; therefore I '11 lie with him,
When I am buried. Since Frenchmen* are so braid 1 ,
Marry that will, I live and die a maid :
Only, in this disguise, I think 't no sin,
To cozen him, that would unjustly win. [Exit.
SCENE III. The Florentine Camp.
Enter the two Frenchmen, and two or three Soldiers.
Fr. Gent. You have not given him his mother's letter.
Fr. Env. I have delivered it an hour since : there is
something in 't that stings his nature, for on the read-
ing it he changed almost into another man.
Fr. Gent. He has much worthy blame laid upon him,
for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a lady.
Fr. Env. 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 within you.
Fr. Gent. When you have spoken it, 't is dead, and
I am the grave of it.
Fr. Env. 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 honour : he
hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks him-
self made in the unchaste composition.
Fr. Gent. Now, God delay our rebellion: as we are
ourselves, what things are we !
Fr. Env. 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.
Fr. Gent. Is it not most 1 damnable in us, to be trum
peters of our un.awful intents? We shall not then
have his company to-night.
Deceitful. " meant : in f. e.
SC. III. ALL *S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 215
Fr. Env. Not till after midnight, for he is dieted to
his hour.
Fr. Gent. That approaches apace : I would gladly
have him see his companion 1 anatomized, that he might
take a measure of his own judgment, wherein so curi-
ously he had set this counterfeit.
Fr. Env. We will not meddle with him till he come,
for his presence must be the whip of the other.
Fr. Gent. In the mean time, what hear you of these
wars?
Fr. Env. I hear there is an overture of peace.
Fr. Gent. Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
Fr. Env. What will count Rousillon do then ? will
he travel higher, or return again into France ?
Fr. Gent. I perceive by this demand you are not
altogether of his council.
Fr. Env. Let it be forbid, sir ; so should I be a great
deal of his act.
Fr. Gent. 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 most
austere sanctimony she accomplished ; and, there re-
siding, 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.
Fr. Env. How is this justified?
Fr. Gent. The stranger 8 part of it by her own letters,
which make her story true, even to the point of her
death : her death itself, which could not be her office
to say, is come, and 3 faithfully confirmed by the rector
of the place.
Fr. Env. Hath the count all this intelligence?
Fr. Gent. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point
from point, to the full arming of the verity.
Fr. Env. I am heartily sorry that he '11 be glad of this.
Fr. Gent. How mightily, sometimes, we make us
comforts of our losses.
Fr. Env. 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
encountered with a shame as ample.
.Fr. Gent. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn ;
good and ill together : our virtues would be proud, i f
1 company/ in f. e. ! stronger : in f. e. 9 was : in f.
210 ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. ACT iv
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 ?
Serv. 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.
Fr. Env. They shall be no more than needful there,
if they were more than they can commend.
Enter BERTRAM.
Fr. Gent. 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.
Fr. Env. 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 medal : he has deceived me, like a
double-meaning prophesier.
Fr. Env. Bring him forth. [Exeunt Soldiers] He
has sat i' the stocks all night, poor gallant knave.
Ber. No matter ; his heels have deserved it, in usurp-
ing his spurs so long. How does he carry himself?
Fr. Env. I have told your lordship already : the stocks
carry him. But, to answer you as you would be un-
derstood, 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 remem-
brance, to this very instant disaster of his sitting i' the
stocks, and what think you he hath confessed ?
Ber. Nothing of me. has he ?
Fr. Env. His confession is taken, and it shall be
SC. III. AL1, S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 21
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 no
thing of me : hush ! hush !
Fr. Gent. Hoodman 1 comes ! Portotartarossa.
1 Sold. 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 Sold. Bosko chimurko.
Fr. Gent. Boblibindo chicurmurco.
1 Sold. 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.
1 Sold. u First, demand of him how many horse the
duke is strong." What say you to that ?
Par. Five or six thousand : but very weak and un-
serviceable : the troops are all scattered, and the com-
manders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and
credit, and as I hope to live.
1 Sold. Shall I set down your answer so ?
Par. Do : I '11 take my sacrament on 't, how and
which way you will.
I Sold. All 's one to him. 2
Ber. What a past-saving slave is this !
Fr. Gent. Y' are deceived, my lord : this is monsieur
Parolles, the gallant militarist, (that was his own
phrase) that had the whole theorick of war in the knot of
his scarf, and the practice in the chape 3 of his dagger.
Fr. Env. 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.
I Sold. Well, that 's set down.
Par. Five or six thousand horse. I said, I will say
true. or thereabouts, set down. for 1 7 11 speak truth.
Fr. Gent. 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, say.
1 Sold. Well, that 's set down.
i An allusion to blind man's buff. Knight. * f. e. give the*
words to Bertram. 3 Hook, by which it was attached. * Owe.
218 ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. ACT rv,
Par. I humbly thank you, sir. A truth 's a truth
the rogues are marvellous poor.
1 Sold. " 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, I will tell true. Let me see : Spurio a hundred
and fifty, Sebastian so many, Corambus so many. Jaques
so many ; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two
hundred fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher,
Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred fifty each : so that the
muster-file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts
not to fifteen thousand poll; half of the which dare
not shake the snow from off their cassocks, lest they
shake themselves to pieces.
Ber. What shall be done to him ?
Fr. Gent. Nothing, but let him have thanks.
Demand of him my condition, and what credit I have
with the duke.
1 Sold. Well, that 's set down. " You shall demand
of him, whether one captain Dumaine be i' the camp,
a Frenchman : what his reputation is with the duke,
what his valour, honesty, and expertness in wars ; or
whether he thinks, it were not possible with well-
weighing 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 intergatories : demand them singly.
1 Sold. Do you know this captain Dumaine ?
Par. I know him : he was a botcher's 'prentice in
Paris, from whence he was whipped for getting the
sheriff's fool with child ; a dumb innocent, that could
not say him, nay. [Dumaine lifts up his hand in anger.
Ber. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands ; though,
I know, his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.
1 Sold. Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's
uamp?
Par. Upon my knowledge he is, and lousy.
Fr. Gent. Nay, look not so upon me ; we shall hear
of your lordship anon.
\ Sold. 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 this other day to turr
him out o' the bund : I think, I have his lettei in my
pocket.
RC. III. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 219
1 Sold. Marry, we '11 search.
Par. In good sadness, I do not know: either it is
there, or it is upon a file, with the duke's other letters,
in my tent.
1 Sold. Here 't is j here 's a paper : shall I read it to
you ?
Par. I do not know if it be it, or no.
Ber. Our interpreter does it well.
Fr. Gent. Excellently.
1 Sold. [Reads.] " Dian, the count 's a fool, and lull
Df 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 Rousillon,
a foolish idle boy, but, for all that, very ruttish. I
pray you, sir, put it up again.
1 Sold. Nay, I '11 read it first, by your favour.
Par. My meaning in 't, I protest, was very honest
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-sides rogue !
1 Sold. [Reads.] "When he swears oaths, bid him
drop gold, and take it ;
After he scores, he never pays the score :
Half won is match well made ; match, and well make it :
He ne'er pays after debts ; take it before,
And say, a soldier, Dian, told thee this.
Men are to mell 1 with, boys are not to kiss :
For count of this, the count 's a fool, I know it,
Who pays before, but not where he does owe it.
" Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear,
" PAROLLES."
Ber. He shall be whipped through the army, with
this rhyme in 's forehead.
Fr. Env. This is your devoted friend, sir; the mani-
fold linguist, and the armipotent soldier.
Ber. I could endure any thing before but a cat, and
now he 's a cat to me.
1 Sold. I perceive, sir, by our general's looks, we
shall be fain to hang you.
Par. My life, sir, in any case ! not that I am afraid
to die; but that, my offences being many, I would
J Meddk, do.
220 ALL *S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. ACT IV
repent out the remainder of nature. Let me live, sit,
in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live.
1 Sold We '11 see what may be done, so you confess
freely : therefore, once more to this captain Dumaine.
You have answered to his reputation with the duke,
and to his valour : what is his honesty ?
Par. He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister : for
rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus. He pro-
fesses not keeping of oaths : in breaking them he is
stronger than Hercules. He will lie, sir, with such
volubility, that you would think truth were a fool.
Drunkenness is his best virtue : for he will be swine-
drunk, and in his sleep he does little harm, save to his
bed-clothes about him ; but they know his conditions,
and lay him in straw. I have but little more to say,
sir, of his honesty : he has every thing that an honest
man should not have ; what an honest man should
have, he has nothing.
Fr. Gent. I begin to love him for this.
Her. For this description of thine honesty ? A. pox
upon him ! for me he is more and more a cat.
1 Sold. What say you to his expertness in war ?
Par. Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the
English tragedians, to belie him. I will not, and
more of his soldiership I know not; except, in that
country, he had the honour to be the officer at a place
there called Mile-end, 1 to instruct for the doubling of
files : I would do the man what honour I can. but of
this I am not certain.
Fr. Gent. He hath out-villained villany so far, that
the rarity redeems him.
Ber. A pox on him ! he 's a cat still.
1 Sold. His qualities being at this poor price, I need
not ask you, if gold will corrupt him to revolt.
Par. Sir, for a quart ffecu* he will sell the fee-simple
of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the
entail from all remainders, and a perpetual succession
for it perpetually.
1 Sold. What 's his brother, the other captain l)u-
maine ?
FT. Env. Why does he ask him of me ?
1 Sold. What 'she?
' A place -where the Londoners were often mustered and trained
About eight-pence English-
SC. III. ALL 'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL. 221
Par. E'en a crow o' the same nest ; not altogethei
BO great as the first in goodness, but greater a great
deal in evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet
his brother is reputed one of the best that is. In a
retreat he out-runs any lackey : marry, in coming on
he has the cramp.
1 Sold. If your life be saved, will you undertake to
betray the Florentine ?
Par. Ay, and the captain of his horse, count Rou-
sillon.
1 Sold. I '11 whisper with the general, and know
his pleasure.
Par. [Aside.] I '11 no more drumming ; a plague of
all drums ! Only to seem to deserve well, and to
beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy
the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who
would have suspected an ambush, where I was
taken?
1 Sold. There is no remedy, sir, but you must die,
The general says, you, that have so traitorously dis-
covered the secrets of your army, and made such pes-
tiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the
world for no honest use ; therefore you must die.
Come, headsman: off with his head.
Par. Lord, sir; let me live, or let me see my
death !
1 Sold. That shall you ; and take your leave of all
your friends. [Unmuffling him.
So, look about you : know you any here ?
Ber. Good-morrow, noble captain.
Fr. Env. God bless you, captain Parolles.
Fr. Gent. God save you, noble captain.
Fr. Env. Captain, what greeting will you to my
lord Lafeu ? I am for France.
Fr. Gent. Good captain, will you give me a copy of
the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the count
Rousillon ? an I were not a very coward, I 'd compel it
of you ; but fare you well.
[Exeunt BERTRAM, Frenchmen, fyc,
\ Sold. You are undone, captain : all but your scarf,
that has a knot on 't yet.
Par. Who cannot be crushed with a plot ?
1 Sold. If you could find out a country' where but
women were, that had received so much shame, you
222 ALL 's WELL THAT ENDS WELL. ACT IV
might begin an impudent nation. Fare you well, sir,
T am for France too : we shall speak of you there. [Exit.
Par. Yet am I thankful : if my heart were great,
'T would burst at this. Captain I '11 be no more ;
But I will eat, and drink, and sleep as soft
As captain shall : simply the thing I am
Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,
Let him fear this ; for it will come to pass,
That every braggart shall be found an ass.
E ust, sword ! cool, blushes ! and Parolles. live
Safest in shame ! being fool'd, by foolery thrive !
There 's place and means for every man alive.
I '11 after them. [Exit.
SCENE IV. Florence. A Room in the Widow's
House.
Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA.
Hel. That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd
you,
One of the greatest in the Christian world
Shall be my surety ; 'fore whose throne, 't is needful.
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel.
Time was I did him a desired office,
Dear almost as his life ; which gratitude
Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth
And answer, thanks. I duly am inform'd,
His grace is at Marseilles, to which place
We have convenient convoy. You must know,
I am supposed dead : the army breaking,
My husband hies him home ; where, heaven aiding.
And by the leave of my good lord the king,
We '11 be before our welcome.
Wid. Gentle madam,
You never had a servant, to whose trust
Your business was more welcome.
Hel. Nor you, mistresi
Kvcr a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour
To recompense your love : doubt not, but heaven