Книга Alls Wel that ends Well. Содержание - SCENE 3.

When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,

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


The Florentine camp
Enter the two FRENCH LORDS, and two or three SOLDIERS

SECOND LORD. You have not given him his mother's letter?

FIRST LORD. I have deliv'red it an hour since. There is something

in't that stings his nature; for on the reading it he chang'd

almost into another man.

SECOND LORD. He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking off

so good a wife and so sweet a lady.

FIRST LORD. Especially he hath incurred the everlasting displeasure

of the King, who had even tun'd his bounty to sing happiness to

him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly

with you.

SECOND LORD. When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the grave

of it.

FIRST LORD. 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 himself made in the unchaste composition.

SECOND LORD. Now, God delay our rebellion! As we are ourselves, 

what things are we!

FIRST LORD. Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of

all treasons we still see them reveal themselves till they attain

to their abhorr'd ends; so he that in this action contrives

against his own nobility, in his proper stream, o'erflows


SECOND LORD. Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters of our

unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company to-night?

FIRST LORD. Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour.

SECOND LORD. That approaches apace. I would gladly have him see his

company anatomiz'd, that he might take a measure of his own

judgments, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit.

FIRST LORD. We will not meddle with him till he come; for his

presence must be the whip of the other.

SECOND LORD. In the meantime, what hear you of these wars?

FIRST LORD. I hear there is an overture of peace.

SECOND LORD. Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.

FIRST LORD. What will Count Rousillon do then? Will he travel

higher, or return again into France?

SECOND LORD. I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether 

of his counsel.

FIRST LORD. Let it be forbid, sir! So should I be a great deal

of his act.

SECOND LORD. 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

accomplish'd; and, there residing, 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.

FIRST LORD. How is this justified?

SECOND LORD. The stronger part of it by her own letters, which

makes her story true even to the point of her death. Her death

itself, which could not be her office to say is come, was

faithfully confirm'd by the rector of the place.

FIRST LORD. Hath the Count all this intelligence?

SECOND LORD. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from

point, to the full arming of the verity.

FIRST LORD. I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this.

SECOND LORD. How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our


FIRST LORD. And how mightily some other times we drown our gain in

tears! The great dignity that his valour hath here acquir'd for

him shall at home be encount'red with a shame as ample.

SECOND LORD. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill

together. Our virtues would be proud if our faults whipt them

not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherish'd by

our virtues.


How now? Where's your master?

SERVANT. 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.

SECOND LORD. They shall be no more than needful there, if they were

more than they can commend.

FIRST LORD. They cannot be too sweet for the King's tartness.

Here's his lordship now.


How now, my lord, is't not after midnight?

BERTRAM. I have to-night dispatch'd sixteen businesses, a month's

length apiece; by an abstract of success: I have congied with the

Duke, done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourn'd for

her; writ to my lady mother I am returning; entertain'd my

convoy; and between these main parcels of dispatch effected many

nicer needs. The last was the greatest, but that I have not ended


SECOND LORD. If the business be of any difficulty and this morning

your departure hence, it requires haste of your lordship.

BERTRAM. 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 module has

deceiv'd me like a double-meaning prophesier.

SECOND LORD. Bring him forth. [Exeunt SOLDIERS] Has sat i' th'

stocks all night, poor gallant knave.

BERTRAM. No matter; his heels have deserv'd it, in usurping his

spurs so long. How does he carry himself?

SECOND LORD. I have told your lordship already the stocks carry 

him. But to answer you as you would be understood: he weeps like

a wench that had shed her milk; he hath confess'd himself to

Morgan, whom he supposes to be a friar, from the time of his

remembrance to this very instant disaster of his setting i' th'

stocks. And what think you he hath confess'd?

BERTRAM. Nothing of me, has 'a?

SECOND LORD. His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his

face; if your lordship be in't, as I believe you are, you must

have the patience to hear it.

Enter PAROLLES guarded, and

FIRST SOLDIER as interpreter

BERTRAM. A plague upon him! muffled! He can say nothing of me.

SECOND LORD. Hush, hush! Hoodman comes. Portotartarossa.

FIRST SOLDIER. He calls for the tortures. What will you say without


PAROLLES. I will confess what I know without constraint; if ye

pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.

FIRST SOLDIER. Bosko chimurcho. 

SECOND LORD. Boblibindo chicurmurco.

FIRST SOLDIER. YOU are a merciful general. Our General bids you

answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.

PAROLLES. And truly, as I hope to live.

FIRST SOLDIER. 'First demand of him how many horse the Duke is

strong.' What say you to that?

PAROLLES. Five or six thousand; but very weak and unserviceable.

The troops are all scattered, and the commanders very poor

rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live.

FIRST SOLDIER. Shall I set down your answer so?

PAROLLES. Do; I'll take the sacrament on 't, how and which way you


BERTRAM. All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this!

SECOND LORD. Y'are deceiv'd, my lord; this is Monsieur Parolles,

the gallant militarist-that was his own phrase-that had the whole

theoric of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practice in the

chape of his dagger.

FIRST LORD. I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword

clean; nor believe he can have everything in him by wearing his

apparel neatly. 

FIRST SOLDIER. Well, that's set down.

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