Mr. VVilliam Shakespeares comedies, histories, & tragedies Published according to the true originall copies.

Actus Quartus.

Enter one of the Frenchmen, 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 pro∣duce 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 be∣guile 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 Ma••s 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 ex∣ploit: 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 ano∣ther 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 Mu••kos 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 re••ania dulche.

Lo. E.

Oscorbidulchos voliuorc••.

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 self••▪ 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 cham∣ber 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 Nobi∣lity in his proper streame, ore-flowes himselfe.

Cap. G.

Is it not meant damnable in vs, to be Trum∣peters 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 alto∣gether 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 Ia∣ques le grand; which holy vndertaking, with most au∣stere 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 com∣forts 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 en∣countred 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 dis∣paire if they were not cherish'd by our vertues.

Enter a Messenger.

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 Let∣ters 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 tart∣nesse, 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 La∣die mother, I am returning, entertain'd my Conuoy, & betweene these maine parcels of dispatch, affected ma∣ny 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, ha••s 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 vsur∣ping 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 vn∣seruiceable: the troopes are all scattered, and the Com∣manders 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 &

fiftie, Sebastian so many, Corambus so many, Iaques so many: Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowicke, and Gratij, two hun∣dred fiftie each: Mine owne Company, Chitopher, Ʋau∣mond, Bentij, two hundred fiftie each: so that the muster file, rotten and sound, vppon my life amounts not to fif∣teene thousand pole, halfe of the which, dare not shake the snow from off their Cassockes, least they shake them∣selues 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 whe∣ther 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 poc∣ket.

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 ad∣uertisement to a proper maide in Florence, one Diana, to take heede of the allurement of one Count Rossillion, 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 Virgi∣nity and deuours vp all the fry it finds.

Ber.

Damnable both-sides rogue.

Int Let.

When he sweares oathes, hid 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 Fool•• 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 dunge∣on, 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 eue∣rie 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 Eng∣lish 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 perpe∣tually.

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 suppo∣sition

o' that lasciuious yong boy the Count, haue I run into this danger: yet who would haue suspected an am∣bush 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 re∣ports of men very nobly held, can serue the world for no honest vse: therefore you must dye. Come heades∣man, 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 scarfe, 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 Marcellae, 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 strange men, 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, your 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 ano∣ther 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 a 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 fisno∣mie is more hotter in France then there.

Laf.

What prince is that?

Clo.

The blacke prince sir, alias the prince of darke∣nesse, 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.

Clo.

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 No∣bilitie 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 ma∣nie 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 intel∣ligence 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 priui∣ledge.

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 vn∣der'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