 | All's Well, that Ends Well |  |
Actus Quartus.
Enter one of the Frenchman, with fiue or sixe other souldiers in ambush.1. 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 Captaiue, 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 stranger, 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 myselfe 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.
Is 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.
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 moth r 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 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
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.
Cap. G.
The webbe of our life, is of a mingled yarne,
good and ill together: our vertues would bee proud, if
our faults whipt them not, and our crimes would dispaire
if they were not cherish'd by our vertues.
How now? Where's your master?
Ser.
He met the Duke in the street sir, of whom hee
hath taken a solemne leaue: his Lordshippe will next
morning for France. The Duke hath offered him Letters
of commendations to the King.
Cap. E.
They shall bee no more then needfull there,
if they were more then they can commend.
Enter Count Rossillion.
Ber.
They cannot be too sweete for the Kings tartnesse,
heere's his Lordship now. How now my Lord,
i'st not after midnight?
Ber.
I haue to night dispatch'd sixteene businesses, a
moneths length a peece, by an abstract of successe: I
haue congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his
neerest; buried a wife, mourn'd for her, writ to my Ladie
mother, I am returning, entertain'd my Conuoy, &
betweene these maine parcels of dispatch, affected many
nicer needs: the last was the greatest, but that I haue
not ended yet.
Cap. E.
If the businesse bee of any difficulty, and this
morning your departure hence, it requires hast of your
Lordship.
Ber.
I meane the businesse is not ended, as fearing
to heare of it hereafter: but shall we haue this dialogue
betweene the Foole and the Soldiour. Come, bring
forth this counterfet module, has deceiu'd mee, like a
double-meaning Prophesier.
Cap. E.
Bring him forth, ha's sate i'th stockes all night
poore gallant knaue.
Ber.
No matter, his heeles haue deseru'd it, in vsurping
his spurres so long. How does he carry himselfe?
Cap. E.
I haue told your Lordship alreadie: The
stockes carrie him. But to answer you as you would be
vnderstood, hee weepes like a wench that had shed her
milke, he hath confest himselfe to Morgan, whom hee
supposes to be a Friar, frō the time of his remembrance
to this very instant disaster of his setting i'th stockes:
and what thinke you he hath confest?
Ber.
Nothing of me, ha's a?
Cap. E.
His confession is taken, and it shall bee read
to his face, if your Lordshippe be in't, as I beleeue you
are, you must haue the patience to heare it.
Enter Parolles with his Interpreter.
Ber.
A plague vpon him, muffeld; he can say nothing
of me: hush, hush.
Cap. G.
Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa.
Inter.
He calles for the tortures, what will you say
without em.
Par.
I will confesse what I know without constraint,
If ye pinch me like a Pasty, I can say no more.
Int.
Bosko Chimurcho.
Cap.
Boblibindo chicurmurco.
Int.
You are a mercifull Generall: Our Generall
bids you answer to what I shall aske you out of a Note.
Par.
And truly, as I hope to liue.
Int.
First demand of him, how many horse the Duke
is strong. What say you to that?
Par.
Fiue or sixe thousand, but very weake and vnseruiceable:
the troopes are all scattered, and the Commanders
verie poore rogues, vpon my reputation and
credit, and as I hope to liue.
Int.
Shall I set downe your answer so?
Par.
Do, Ile take the Sacrament on't, how & which
way you will: all's one to him.
Ber.
What a past-sauing slaue is this?
Cap. G.
Y'are deceiu'd my Lord, this is Mounsieur
Parrolles the gallant militarist, that was his owne phrase
that had the whole theoricke of warre in the knot of his
scarfe, and the practise in the chape of his dagger.
Cap. E.
I will neuer trust a man againe, for keeping
his sword cleane, nor beleeue he can haue euerie thing
in him, by wearing his apparrell neatly.
Int.
Well, that's set downe.
Par.
Fiue or six thousand horse I sed, I will say true,
or thereabouts set downe, for Ile speake truth.
Cap. G.
He's very neere the truth in this.
Ber.
But I con him no thankes for't in the nature he
deliuers it.
Par.
Poore rogues, I pray you say.
Int.
Well, that's set downe.
Par.
I humbly thanke you sir, a truth's a truth, the
Rogues are maruailous poore.
Interp.
Demaund of him of what strength they are a
foot. What say you to that?
Par.
By my troth sir, if I were to liue this present
houre, I will tell true. Let me see, Spurio a hundred &
many: Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowicke, and Gratij, two hundred
fiftie each: Mine owne Company, Chitopher, Uaumond,
Bentij, two hundred fiftie each: so that the muster
file, rotten and sound, vppon my life amounts not to fifteene
thousand pole, halfe of the which, dare not shake
the snow from off their Cassockes, least they shake themselues
to peeces.
Ber.
What shall be done to him?
Cap. G.
Nothing, but let him haue thankes. Demand
of him my condition: and what credite I haue with the
Duke.
Int.
Well that's set downe: you shall demaund of
him, whether one Captaine Dumaine bee i'th Campe, a
Frenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, what
his valour, honestie, and expertnesse in warres: or whether
he thinkes it were not possible with well-waighing
summes of gold to corrupt him to a reuolt. 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.
Int.
Do you know this Captaine Dumaine?
Par.
I know him, a was a Botchers Prentize in Paris,
from whence he was whipt for getting the Shrieues fool
with childe, a dumbe innocent that could not say him
nay.
Ber.
Nay, by your leaue hold your hands, though I
know his braines are forfeite to the next tile that fals.
Int.
Well, is this Captaine in the Duke of Florences
campe?
Par.
Vpon my knowledge he is, and lowsie.
Cay. G.
Nay looke not so vpon me: we shall heare of
your Lord anon.
Int.
What is his reputation with the Duke?
Par.
The Duke knowes him for no other, but a poore
Officer of mine, and writ to mee this other day, to turne
him out a'th band. I thinke I haue his Letter in my pocket.
Int.
Marry we'll search.
Par.
In good sadnesse I do not know, either it is there,
or it is vpon a file with the Dukes other Letters, in my
Tent.
Int.
Heere 'tis, heere's a paper, shall I reade it to you?
Par.
I do not know if it be it or no.
Ber.
Our Interpreter do's it well.
Cap. G.
Excellently.
Int.
Dian, the Counts a foole, and full of gold.
Par.
That is not the Dukes letter sir: that is an aduertisement
to a proper maide in Florence, one Diana, to
take heede of the allurement of one Count Rossilion, a
foolish idle boy: but for all that very ruttish. I pray you
sir put it vp againe.
Int.
Nay, Ile reade it first by your fauour.
Par.
My meaning in't I protest was very honest in the
behalfe of the maid: for I knew the young Count to be a
dangerous and lasciuious boy, who is a whale to Virginity,
and deuours vp all the fry it finds.
Ber.
Damnable both-sides rogue.
Int.
Let.
When he sweares oathes, bid him drop gold, and take it:
After he scores, he neuer payes the score:
Halfe won is match well made, match and well make it,
He nere payes after-debts, take it before,
And say a souldier (Dian) told thee this:
Men are to mell with, boyes are not to kis.
For count of this, the Counts a Foole I know it,
Who payes before, but not when he does owe it.
Thine as he vow'd to thee in thine eare,
Parolles.
Ber.
He shall be whipt through the Armie with this
rime in's forehead.
Cap. E.
This is your deuoted friend sir, the manifold
Linguist, and the army-potent souldier.
Ber.
I could endure any thing before but a Cat, and
now he's a Cat to me.
Int.
I perceiue sir by your Generals lookes, wee shall
be faine to hang you.
Par.
My life sir in any case: Not that I am afraide to
dye, but that my offences beeing many, I would repent
out the remainder of Nature. Let me liue sir in a dungeon,
i'th stockes, or any where, so I may liue.
Int.
Wee'le see what may bee done, so you confesse
freely: therefore once more to this Captaine Dumaine:
you haue answer'd to his reputation with the Duke, and
to his valour. What is his honestie?
Par.
He will steale sir an Egge out of a Cloister: for
rapes and rauishments he paralels Nessus. Hee professes
not keeping of oaths, in breaking em he is stronger then
Hercules. He will lye sir, with such volubilitie, that you
would thinke truth were a foole: drunkennesse is his best
vertue, for he will be swine-drunke, and in his sleepe he
does little harme, saue to his bed-cloathes about him:
but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I
haue but little more to say sir of his honesty, he ha's euerie
thing that an honest man should not haue; what an
honest man should haue, he has nothing.
Cap. G.
I begin to loue him for this.
Ber.
For this description of thine honestie? A pox
vpon him for me, he's more and more a Cat.
Int.
What say you to his expertnesse in warre?
Par.
Faith sir, ha's led the drumme before the English
Tragedians: to belye him I will not, and more of his
souldiership I know not, except in that Country, he had
the honour to be the Officer at a place there called Mile-end,
to instruct for the doubling of files. I would doe the
man what honour I can, but of this I am not certaine.
Cap. G.
He hath out-villain'd villanie so farre, that the
raritie redeemes him.
Ber.
A pox on him, he's a Cat still.
Int.
His qualities being at this poore price, I neede
not to aske you, if Gold will corrupt him to reuolt.
Par.
Sir, for a Cardceue he will sell the fee-simple of
his saluation, the inheritance of it, and cut th'intaile from
all remainders, and a perpetuall succession for it perpetually.
Int.
What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain?
Cap. E.
Why do's he aske him of me?
Int.
What's he?
Par.
E'ne a Crow a'th same nest: not altogether so
great as the first in goodnesse, but greater a great deale in
euill. He excels his Brother for a coward, yet his Brother
is reputed one of the best that is. In a retreate hee out-runnes
any Lackey; marrie in comming on, hee ha's the
Crampe.
Int.
If your life be saued, will you vndertake to betray
the Florentine.
Par.
I, and the Captaine of his horse, Count Rossillion.
Int.
Ile whisper with the Generall, and knowe his
pleasure.
Par.
Ile no more drumming, a plague of all drummes,
onely to seeme to deserue well, and to beguile the supposition
into this danger: yet who would haue suspected an ambush
where I was taken?
Int.
There is no remedy sir, but you must dye: the
Generall sayes, you that haue so traitorously discouerd
the secrets of your army, and made such pestifferous reports
of men very nobly held, can serue the world for
no honest vse; therefore you must dye. Come headesman,
off with his head.
Par.
O Lord sir let me liue, or let me see my death.
Int.
That shall you, and take your leaue of all your
friends:
So, looke about you, know you any heere?
Count.
Good morrow noble Captaine.
Lo. E.
God blesse you Captaine Parolles.
Cap. G.
God saue you noble Captaine.
Lo. E.
Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord
Lafew? I am for France.
Cap. G.
Good Captaine will you giue me a Copy of
the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalfe of the Count
Rossillion, and I were not a verie Coward, I'de compell
it of you, but far you well.
Exeunt.
Int.
You are vndone Captaine all but your scarse,
that has a knot on't yet.
Par.
Who cannot be crush'd with a plot?
Inter.
If you could finde out a Countrie where but
women were that had receiued so much shame, you
might begin an impudent Nation. Fare yee well sir, I
am for France too, we shall speake of you there.
Exit
Par.
Yet am I thankfull: if my heart were great
'Twould burst at this: Captaine Ile be no more,
But I will eate, and drinke, and sleepe as soft
As Captaine shall. Simply the thing I am
Shall make me liue: who knowes himselfe a braggart
Let him feare this; for it will come to passe,
That euery braggart shall be found an Asse.
Rust sword, coole blushes, and Parrolles liue
Safest in shame: being fool'd, by fool'rie thriue;
There's place and meanes for euery man aliue.
Ile after them.
Exit.
Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana.
Hel.
That you may well perceiue I haue not wrong'd you,
One of the greatest in the Christian world
Shall be my suretie: for whose throne 'tis needfull
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneele.
Time was, I did him a desired office
Deere almost as his life, which gratitude
Through flintie Tartars bosome would peepe forth,
And answer thankes. I duly am inform'd,
His grace is at Marcellæ, to which place
We haue conuenient conuoy: you must know
I am supposed dead, the Army breaking,
My husband hies him home, where heauen ayding,
And by the leaue of my good Lord the King,
Wee'l be before our welcome.
Wid.
Gentle Madam,
You neuer had a seruant to whose trust
Your busines was more welcome.
Hel.
Nor your Mistris
Euer a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour
To recompence your loue: Doubt not but heauen
Hath brought me vp to be your daughters dower,
As it hath fated her to be my motiue
And helper to a husband. But O strangemen,
That can such sweet vse make of what they hate,
When sawcie trusting of the cosin'd thoughts
Defiles the pitchy night, so lust doth play
With what it loathes, for that which is away,
But more of this heereafter: you Diana,
Vnder my poore instructions yet must suffer
Something in my behalfe.
Dia.
Let death and honestie
Go with your impositions, I am yours
Vpon your will to suffer.
Hel.
Yet I pray you:
But with the word the time will bring on summer,
When Briars shall haue leaues as well as thornes,
And be as sweet as sharpe: we must away,
Our Wagon is prepar'd, and time reuiues vs,
All's well that ends well, still the fines the Crowne;
What ere the course, the end is the renowne.
Exeunt
Enter Clowne, old Lady, and Lafew.
Laf.
No, no, no, you sonne was misled with a snipt
taffata fellow there, whose villanous saffron wold haue
made all the vnbak'd and dowy youth of a nation in his
colour: your daughter-in law had beene aliue at this
houre, and your sonne heere at home, more aduanc d
by the King, then by that red-tail'd humble Bee I speak
of.
La.
I would I had not knowne him, it was the death
of the most vertuous gentlewoman, that euer Nature
had praise for creating. If she had pertaken of my flesh
and cost mee the deerest groanes of a mother, I could
not haue owed her a more rooted loue.
Laf.
Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. Wee
may picke a thousand sallets ere wee light on such another
hearbe.
Clo.
Indeed sir she was the sweete Margerom of the
sallet, or rather the hearbe of grace.
Laf.
They are not hearbes you knaue, they are nose-hearbes.
Clowne.
I am no great Nabuchadnezar sir, I haue not
much skill in grace.
Laf.
Whether doest thou professe thy selfe, a knaue
or a foole?
Clo.
A foole sir at a womans seruice, and a knaue at
mans.
Laf.
Your distinction.
Clo.
I would cousen the man of his wife, and do his
seruice.
Laf.
So you were a knaue at his seruice indeed.
Clo.
And I would giue his wife my bauble sir to doe
her seruice.
Laf.
I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knaue
and foole.
Clo.
At your seruice.
Laf.
No, no, no.
Clo.
Why sir, if I cannot serue you, I can serue as
great a prince as you are.
Laf.
Whose that, a Frenchman?
Clo.
Faith sir a has an English maine, but his fisnomie
is more hotter in France then there.
Laf.
What prince is that?
Clo.
The blacke prince sir, alias the prince of darkenesse
alias the diuell.
Laf.
Hold thee there's my purse, I giue thee not this
to suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st off, serue
him still.
I am a woodland fellow sir, that alwaies loued
a great fire, and the master I speak of euer keeps a good
fire, but sure he is the Prince of the world, let his Nobilitie
remaine in's Court. I am for the house with the
narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pompe to
enter: some that humble themselues may, but the manie
will be too chill and tender, and theyle bee for the
flowrie way that leads to the broad gate, and the great
fire.
Laf.
Go thy waies, I begin to bee a wearie of thee,
and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out
with thee. Go thy wayes, let my horses be wel look'd
too, without any trickes.
Clo.
If I put any trickes vpon em sir, they shall bee
Iades trickes, which are their owne right by the law of
Nature.
exit
Laf.
A shrewd knaue and an vnhappie.
Lady.
So a is. My Lord that's gone made himselfe
much sport out of him, by his authoritie hee remaines
heere, which he thinkes is a pattent for his sawcinesse,
and indeede he has no pace, but runnes where he will.
Laf.
I like him well, 'tis not amisse: and I was about
to tell you, since I heard of the good Ladies death, and
that my Lord your sonne was vpon his returne home. I
moued the King my master to speake in the behalfe of
my daughter, which in the minoritie of them both, his
Maiestie out of a selfe gracious remembrance did first
propose, his Highnesse hath promis'd me to doe it, and
to stoppe vp the displeasure he hath conceiued against
your sonne, there is no fitter matter. How do's your
Ladyship like it?
La.
With verie much content my Lord, and I wish
it happily effected.
Laf.
His Highnesse comes post from Marcellus, of as
able bodie as when he number'd thirty, a will be heere
to morrow, or I am deceiu'd by him that in such intelligence
hath seldome fail'd.
La.
Ir reioyces me, that I hope I shall see him ere I
die. I haue letters that my sonne will be heere to night:
I shall beseech your Lordship to remaine with mee, till
they meete together.
Laf.
Madam, I was thinking with what manners I
might safely be admitted.
Lad.
You neede but pleade your honourable priuiledge.
Laf.
Ladie, of that I haue made a bold charter, but
I thanke my God, it holds yet.
Enter Clowne.
Clo.
O Madam, yonders my Lord your sonne with
a patch of veluet on's face, whether there bee a scar vnder't
or no, the Veluet knowes, but 'tis a goodly patch
of Veluet, his left cheeke is a cheeke of two pile and a
halfe, but his right cheeke is worne bare.
Laf.
A scarre nobly got,
Or a noble scarre, is a good liu'rie of honor,
So belike is that.
Clo.
But it is your carbinado'd face
Laf.
Let vs go see
your sonne I pray you, I long to talke
With the yong noble souldier.
Clowne.
'Faith there's a dozen of em, with delicate
fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the
head, and nod at euerie man.
Exeunt
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