Chapter 4
La. What Angell shall Blesse this vnworthy husband, he cannot thriue, Vnlesse her prayers, whom heauen delights to heare And loues to grant, repreeue him from the wrath Of greatest Iustice. Write, write Rynaldo, To this vnworthy husband of his wife, Let euerie word waigh heauie of her worth, That he does waigh too light: my greatest greefe, Though little he do feele it, set downe sharpely. Dispatch the most conuenient messenger, When haply he shall heare that she is gone, He will returne, and hope I may that shee Hearing so much, will speede her foote againe, Led hither by pure loue: which of them both Is deerest to me, I haue no skill in sence To make distinction: prouide this Messenger: My heart is heauie, and mine age is weake, Greefe would haue teares, and sorrow bids me speake.
Exeunt.
A Tucket afarre off.
Enter old Widdow of Florence, her daughter Violenta and Mariana, with other Citizens.
Widdow. Nay come, For if they do approach the Citty, We shall loose all the sight
Diana. They say, the French Count has done Most honourable seruice
Wid. It is reported, That he has taken their great'st Commander, And that with his owne hand he slew The Dukes brother: we haue lost our labour, They are gone a contrarie way: harke, you may know by their Trumpets
Maria. Come lets returne againe, And suffice our selues with the report of it. Well Diana, take heed of this French Earle, The honor of a Maide is her name, And no Legacie is so rich As honestie
Widdow. I haue told my neighbour How you haue beene solicited by a Gentleman His Companion
Maria. I know that knaue, hang him, one Parolles, a filthy Officer he is in those suggestions for the young Earle, beware of them Diana; their promises, entisements, oathes, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are not the things they go vnder: many a maide hath beene seduced by them, and the miserie is example, that so terrible shewes in the wracke of maiden-hood, cannot for all that disswade succession, but that they are limed with the twigges that threatens them. I hope I neede not to aduise you further, but I hope your owne grace will keepe you where you are, though there were no further danger knowne, but the modestie which is so lost
Dia. You shall not neede to feare me. Enter Hellen.
Wid. I hope so: looke here comes a pilgrim, I know she will lye at my house, thither they send one another, Ile question her. God saue you pilgrim, whether are bound? Hel. To S[aint]. Iaques la grand. Where do the Palmers lodge, I do beseech you? Wid. At the S[aint]. Francis heere beside the Port
Hel. Is this the way?
A march afarre.
Wid. I marrie ist. Harke you, they come this way: If you will tarrie holy Pilgrime But till the troopes come by, I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd, The rather for I thinke I know your hostesse As ample as my selfe
Hel. Is it your selfe? Wid. If you shall please so Pilgrime
Hel. I thanke you, and will stay vpon your leisure
Wid. You came I thinke from France? Hel. I did so
Wid. Heere you shall see a Countriman of yours That has done worthy seruice
Hel. His name I pray you? Dia. The Count Rossillion: know you such a one? Hel. But by the eare that heares most nobly of him: His face I know not
Dia. What somere he is He's brauely taken heere. He stole from France As 'tis reported: for the King had married him Against his liking. Thinke you it is so? Hel. I surely meere the truth, I know his Lady
Dia. There is a Gentleman that serues the Count, Reports but coursely of her
Hel. What's his name? Dia. Monsieur Parrolles
Hel. Oh I beleeue with him, In argument of praise, or to the worth Of the great Count himselfe, she is too meane To haue her name repeated, all her deseruing Is a reserued honestie, and that I haue not heard examin'd
Dian. Alas poore Ladie, 'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife Of a detesting Lord
Wid. I write good creature, wheresoere she is, Her hart waighes sadly: this yong maid might do her A shrewd turne if she pleas'd
Hel. How do you meane? May be the amorous Count solicites her In the vnlawfull purpose
Wid. He does indeede, And brokes with all that can in such a suite Corrupt the tender honour of a Maide: But she is arm'd for him, and keepes her guard In honestest defence.
Drumme and Colours. Enter Count Rossillion, Parrolles, and the whole Armie.
Mar. The goddes forbid else
Wid. So, now they come: That is Anthonio the Dukes eldest sonne, That Escalus
Hel. Which is the Frenchman? Dia. Hee, That with the plume, 'tis a most gallant fellow, I would he lou'd his wife: if he were honester He were much goodlier. Is't not a handsom Gentleman Hel. I like him well
Di. 'Tis pitty he is not honest: yonds that same knaue That leades him to these places: were I his Ladie, I would poison that vile Rascall
Hel. Which is he? Dia. That Iacke-an-apes with scarfes. Why is hee melancholly? Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'th battaile
Par. Loose our drum? Well
Mar. He's shrewdly vext at something. Looke he has spyed vs
Wid. Marrie hang you
Mar. And your curtesie, for a ring-carrier. Enter.
Wid. The troope is past: Come pilgrim, I wil bring you, Where you shall host: Of inioyn'd penitents There's foure or fiue, to great S[aint]. Iaques bound, Alreadie at my house
Hel. I humbly thanke you: Please it this Matron, and this gentle Maide To eate with vs to night, the charge and thanking Shall be for me, and to requite you further, I will bestow some precepts of this Virgin, Worthy the note
Both. Wee'l take your offer kindly.
Exeunt.
Enter Count Rossillion and the Frenchmen, as at first.
Cap.E. Nay good my Lord put him too't: let him haue his way
Cap.G. If your Lordshippe finde him not a Hilding, hold me no more in your respect
Cap.E. On my life my Lord, a bubble
Ber. Do you thinke I am so farre Deceiued in him
Cap.E. Beleeue it my Lord, in mine owne direct knowledge, without any malice, but to speake of him as my kinsman, hee's a most notable Coward, an infinite and endlesse Lyar, an hourely promise-breaker, the owner of no one good qualitie, worthy your Lordships entertainment
Cap.G. It were fit you knew him, least reposing too farre in his vertue which he hath not, he might at some great and trustie businesse, in a maine daunger, fayle you
Ber. I would I knew in what particular action to try him
Cap.G. None better then to let him fetch off his drumme, which you heare him so confidently vndertake to do
C.E. I with a troop of Florentines wil sodainly surprize him; such I will haue whom I am sure he knowes not from the enemie: wee will binde and hoodwinke him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is carried into the Leager of the aduersaries, when we bring him to our owne tents: be but your Lordship present at his examination, if he do not for the promise of his life, and in the highest compulsion of base feare, offer to betray you, and deliuer all the intelligence in his power against you, and that with the diuine forfeite of his soule vpon oath, neuer trust my iudgement in anie thing
Cap.G. O for the loue of laughter, let him fetch his drumme, he sayes he has a stratagem for't: when your Lordship sees the bottome of this successe in't, and to what mettle this counterfeyt lump of ours will be melted if you giue him not Iohn drummes entertainement, your inclining cannot be remoued. Heere he comes. Enter Parrolles.
Cap.E. O for the loue of laughter hinder not the honor of his designe, let him fetch off his drumme in any hand
Ber. How now Monsieur? This drumme sticks sorely in your disposition
Cap.G. A pox on't, let it go, 'tis but a drumme
Par. But a drumme: Ist but a drumme? A drum so lost. There was excellent command, to charge in with our horse vpon our owne wings, and to rend our owne souldiers
Cap.G. That was not to be blam'd in the command of the seruice: it was a disaster of warre that C├Žsar him selfe could not haue preuented, if he had beene there to command
Ber. Well, wee cannot greatly condemne our successe: some dishonor wee had in the losse of that drum, but it is not to be recouered
Par. It might haue beene recouered
Ber. It might, but it is not now
Par. It is to be recouered, but that the merit of seruice is sildome attributed to the true and exact performer, I would haue that drumme or another, or hic iacet
Ber. Why if you haue a stomacke, too't Monsieur: if you thinke your mysterie in stratagem, can bring this instrument of honour againe into his natiue quarter, be magnanimious in the enterprize and go on, I wil grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you speede well in it, the Duke shall both speake of it, and extend to you what further becomes his greatnesse, euen to the vtmost syllable of your worthinesse
Par. By the hand of a souldier I will vndertake it
Ber. But you must not now slumber in it
Par. Ile about it this euening, and I will presently pen downe my dilemma's, encourage my selfe in my certaintie, put my selfe into my mortall preparation: and by midnight looke to heare further from me
Ber. May I bee bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it
Par. I know not what the successe wil be my Lord, but the attempt I vow
Ber. I know th'art valiant, And to the possibility of thy souldiership, Will subscribe for thee: Farewell
Par. I loue not many words.
Exit
Cap.E. No more then a fish loues water. Is not this a strange fellow my Lord, that so confidently seemes to vndertake this businesse, which he knowes is not to be done, damnes himselfe to do, & dares better be damnd then to doo't
Cap.G. You do not know him my Lord as we doe, certaine it is that he will steale himselfe into a mans fauour, and for a weeke escape a great deale of discoueries, but when you finde him out, you haue him euer after
Ber. Why do you thinke he will make no deede at all of this that so seriouslie hee dooes addresse himselfe vnto? Cap.E. None in the world, but returne with an inuention, and clap vpon you two or three probable lies: but we haue almost imbost him, you shall see his fall to night; for indeede he is not for your Lordshippes respect
Cap.G. Weele make you some sport with the Foxe ere we case him. He was first smoak'd by the old Lord Lafew, when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall finde him, which you shall see this verie night
Cap.E. I must go looke my twigges, He shall be caught
Ber. Your brother he shall go along with me
Cap.G. As't please your Lordship, Ile leaue you
Ber. Now wil I lead you to the house, and shew you The Lasse I spoke of
Cap.E. But you say she's honest
Ber. That's all the fault: I spoke with hir but once, And found her wondrous cold, but I sent to her By this same Coxcombe that we haue i'th winde Tokens and Letters, which she did resend, And this is all I haue done: She's a faire creature, Will you go see her? Cap.E. With all my heart my Lord.
Exeunt.
Enter Hellen, and Widdow.
Hel. If you misdoubt me that I am not shee, I know not how I shall assure you further, But I shall loose the grounds I worke vpon
Wid. Though my estate be falne, I was well borne, Nothing acquainted with these businesses, And would not put my reputation now In any staining act
Hel. Nor would I wish you. First giue me trust, the Count he is my husband, And what to your sworne counsaile I haue spoken, Is so from word to word: and then you cannot By the good ayde that I of you shall borrow, Erre in bestowing it
Wid. I should beleeue you, For you haue shew'd me that which well approues Y'are great in fortune
Hel. Take this purse of Gold, And let me buy your friendly helpe thus farre, Which I will ouer-pay, and pay againe When I haue found it. The Count he woes your daughter, Layes downe his wanton siedge before her beautie, Resolue to carrie her: let her in fine consent As wee'l direct her how 'tis best to beare it: Now his important blood will naught denie, That shee'l demand: a ring the Countie weares, That downward hath succeeded in his house From sonne to sonne, some foure or fiue discents, Since the first father wore it. This Ring he holds In most rich choice: yet in his idle fire, To buy his will, it would not seeme too deere, How ere repented after
Wid. Now I see the bottome of your purpose
Hel. You see it lawfull then, it is no more, But that your daughter ere she seemes as wonne, Desires this Ring; appoints him an encounter; In fine, deliuers me to fill the time, Her selfe most chastly absent: after To marry her, Ile adde three thousand Crownes To what is past already
Wid. I haue yeelded: Instruct my daughter how she shall perseuer, That time and place with this deceite so lawfull May proue coherent. Euery night he comes With Musickes of all sorts, and songs compos'd To her vnworthinesse: It nothing steeds vs To chide him from our eeues, for he persists As if his life lay on't
Hel. Why then to night Let vs assay our plot, which if it speed, Is wicked meaning in a lawfull deede; And lawfull meaning in a lawfull act, Where both not sinne, and yet a sinfull fact. But let's about it.
Actus Quartus.
Enter one of the Frenchmen, with fiue or sixe other souldiers in ambush.
Lord E. He can come no other way but by this hedge corner: when you sallie vpon him, speake what terrible Language you will: though you vnderstand it not your selues, no matter: for we must not seeme to vnderstand him, vnlesse some one among vs, whom wee must produce for an Interpreter
1.Sol. Good Captaine, let me be th' Interpreter
Lor.E. Art not acquainted with him? knowes he not thy voice? 1.Sol. No sir I warrant you
Lo.E. But what linsie wolsy hast thou to speake to vs againe
1.Sol. E'n such as you speake to me
Lo.E. He must thinke vs some band of strangers, i'th aduersaries entertainment. Now he hath a smacke of all neighbouring Languages: therefore we must euery one be a man of his owne fancie, not to know what we speak one to another: so we seeme to know, is to know straight our purpose: Choughs language, gabble enough, and good enough. As for you interpreter, you must seeme very politicke. But couch hoa, heere hee comes, to beguile two houres in a sleepe, and then to returne & swear the lies he forges. Enter Parrolles.
Par. Ten a clocke: Within these three houres 'twill be time enough to goe home. What shall I say I haue done? It must bee a very plausiue inuention that carries it. They beginne to smoake mee, and disgraces haue of late, knock'd too often at my doore: I finde my tongue is too foole-hardie, but my heart hath the feare of Mars before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of my tongue
Lo.E. This is the first truth that ere thine own tongue was guiltie of
Par. What the diuell should moue mee to vndertake the recouerie of this drumme, being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I must giue my selfe some hurts, and say I got them in exploit: yet slight ones will not carrie it. They will say, came you off with so little? And great ones I dare not giue, wherefore what's the instance. Tongue, I must put you into a Butter-womans mouth, and buy my selfe another of Baiazeths Mule, if you prattle mee into these perilles
Lo.E. Is it possible he should know what hee is, and be that he is
Par. I would the cutting of my garments wold serue the turne, or the breaking of my Spanish sword
Lo.E. We cannot affoord you so
Par. Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in stratagem
Lo.E. 'Twould not do
Par. Or to drowne my cloathes, and say I was stript
Lo.E. Hardly serue
Par. Though I swore I leapt from the window of the Citadell
Lo.E. How deepe? Par. Thirty fadome
Lo.E. Three great oathes would scarse make that be beleeued
Par. I would I had any drumme of the enemies, I would sweare I recouer'd it
Lo.E. You shall heare one anon
Par. A drumme now of the enemies.
Alarum within.
Lo.E. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo
All. Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo
Par. O ransome, ransome, Do not hide mine eyes
Inter. Boskos thromuldo boskos
Par. I know you are the Muskos Regiment, And I shall loose my life for want of language. If there be heere German or Dane, Low Dutch, Italian, or French, let him speake to me, Ile discouer that, which shal vndo the Florentine
Int. Boskos vauvado, I vnderstand thee, & can speake thy tongue: Kerelybonto sir, betake thee to thy faith, for seuenteene ponyards are at thy bosome
Par. Oh
Inter. Oh pray, pray, pray, Manka reuania dulche
Lo.E. Oscorbidulchos voliuorco
Int. The Generall is content to spare thee yet, And hoodwinkt as thou art, will leade thee on To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst informe Something to saue thy life
Par. O let me liue, And all the secrets of our campe Ile shew, Their force, their purposes: Nay, Ile speake that, Which you will wonder at
Inter. But wilt thou faithfully? Par. If I do not, damne me
Inter. Acordo linta. Come on, thou are granted space.
Exit
A short Alarum within.
L.E. Go tell the Count Rossillion and my brother, We haue caught the woodcocke, and will keepe him mufled Till we do heare from them
Sol. Captaine I will
L.E. A will betray vs all vnto our selues, Informe on that
Sol. So I will sir
L.E. Till then Ile keepe him darke and safely lockt.
Exit
Enter Bertram, and the Maide called Diana.
Ber. They told me that your name was Fontybell
Dia. No my good Lord, Diana
Ber. Titled Goddesse, And worth it with addition: but faire soule, In your fine frame hath loue no qualitie? If the quicke fire of youth light not your minde, 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 sterne, And now you should be as your mother was When your sweet selfe was got
Dia. She then was honest
Ber. So should you be
Dia. No: My mother did but dutie, such (my Lord) As you owe to your wife
Ber. No more a'that: I prethee do not striue against my vowes: I was compell'd to her, but I loue thee By loues owne sweet constraint, and will for euer Do thee all rights of seruice
Dia. I so you serue vs Till we serue you: But when you haue our Roses, You barely leaue our thornes to pricke our selues, And mocke vs with our barenesse
Ber. How haue I sworne
Dia. Tis not the many oathes that makes the truth, But the plaine single vow, that is vow'd true: What is not holie, that we sweare not by, But take the high'st to witnesse: then pray you tell me, If I should sweare by Ioues great attributes, I lou'd you deerely, would you beleeue my oathes, When I did loue you ill? This ha's no holding To sweare by him whom I protest to loue That I will worke against him. Therefore your oathes Are words and poore conditions, but vnseal'd At lest in my opinion
Ber. Change it, change it: Be not so holy cruell: Loue is holie, And my integritie ne're knew the crafts That you do charge men with: Stand no more off, But giue thy selfe vnto my sicke desires, Who then recouers. Say thou art mine, and euer My loue as it beginnes, shall so perseuer
Dia. I see that men make rope's in such a scarre, That wee'l forsake our selues. Giue me that Ring
Ber. Ile lend it thee my deere; but haue no power To giue it from me
Dia. Will you not my Lord? Ber. It is an honour longing to our house, Bequeathed downe from manie Ancestors, Which were the greatest obloquie i'th world, In me to loose
Dian. Mine Honors such a Ring, My chastities the Iewell of our house, Bequeathed downe from many Ancestors, Which were the greatest obloquie i'th world, In mee to loose. Thus your owne proper wisedome Brings in the Champion honor on my part, Against your vaine assault
Ber. Heere, take my Ring, My house, mine honor, yea my life be thine, And Ile be bid by thee
Dia. When midnight comes, knocke at my chamber window: Ile order take, my mother shall not heare. Now will I charge you in the band of truth, When you haue conquer'd my yet maiden-bed, Remaine there but an houre, nor speake to mee: My reasons are most strong, and you shall know them, When backe againe this Ring shall be deliuer'd: And on your finger in the night, Ile put Another Ring, that what in time proceeds, May token to the future, our past deeds. Adieu till then, then faile not: you haue wonne A wife of me, though there my hope be done
Ber. A heauen on earth I haue won by wooing thee
Di. For which, liue long to thank both heauen & me, You may so in the end. My mother told me iust how he would woo, As if she sate in's heart. She sayes, all men Haue the like oathes: He had sworne to marrie me When his wife's dead: therfore Ile lye with him When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braide, Marry that will, I liue and die a Maid: Onely in this disguise, I think't no sinne, To cosen him that would vniustly winne.
Exit
Enter the two French Captaines, and some two or three Souldiours.
Cap.G. You haue not giuen him his mothers letter
Cap.E. I haue deliu'red it an houre since, there is som thing in't that stings his nature: for on the reading it, he chang'd almost into another man
Cap.G. He has much worthy blame laid vpon him, for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a Lady
Cap.E. Especially, hee hath incurred the euerlasting displeasure of the King, who had euen tun'd his bounty to sing happinesse to him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you
Cap.G. When you haue spoken it 'tis dead, and I am the graue of it
Cap.E. Hee hath peruerted a young Gentlewoman heere in Florence, of a most chaste renown, & this night he fleshes his will in the spoyle of her honour: hee hath giuen her his monumentall Ring, and thinkes himselfe made in the vnchaste composition
Cap.G. Now God delay our rebellion as we are our selues, what things are we
Cap.E. Meerely our owne traitours. And as in the common course of all treasons, we still see them reueale themselues, till they attaine to their abhorr'd ends: so he that in this action contriues against his owne Nobility in his proper streame, ore-flowes himselfe
Cap.G. Is it not meant damnable in vs, to be Trumpeters of our vnlawfull intents? We shall not then haue his company to night? Cap.E. Not till after midnight: for hee is dieted to his houre
Cap.G. That approaches apace: I would gladly haue him see his company anathomiz'd, that hee might take a measure of his owne iudgements, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit
Cap.E. We will not meddle with him till he come; for his presence must be the whip of the other
Cap.G. In the meane time, what heare you of these Warres? Cap.E. I heare there is an ouerture of peace
Cap.G. Nay, I assure you a peace concluded
Cap.E. What will Count Rossillion do then? Will he trauaile higher, or returne againe into France? Cap.G. I perceiue by this demand, you are not altogether of his councell
Cap.E. Let it be forbid sir, so should I bee a great deale of his act
Cap.G. Sir, his wife some two months since fledde from his house, her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Iaques le grand; which holy vndertaking, with most austere sanctimonie she accomplisht: and there residing, the tendernesse of her Nature, became as a prey to her greefe: in fine, made a groane of her last breath, & now she sings in heauen
Cap.E. How is this iustified? Cap.G. The stronger part of it by her owne Letters, which makes her storie true, euen to the poynt of her death: her death it selfe, which could not be her office to say, is come: was faithfully confirm'd by the Rector of the place
Cap.E. Hath the Count all this intelligence? Cap.G. I, and the particular confirmations, point from point, to the full arming of the veritie
Cap.E. I am heartily sorrie that hee'l bee gladde of this
Cap.G. How mightily sometimes, we make vs comforts of our losses
Cap.E. And how mightily some other times, wee drowne our gaine in teares, the great dignitie that his valour hath here acquir'd for him, shall at home be encountred with a shame as ample