Hesperushath quench'd her sleepy Lampe:
Reference: V4v - Comedies, p. 236
Make thy demand.
But will you make it euen?
I by my Scepter, and my hopes of helpe.
Come on sir, I shall now put you to the height
of your breeding.
I will shew my selfe highly fed, and lowly
taught, I know my businesse is but to the Court.
To the Court, why what place make you spe
ciall, when you put off that with such contempt, but to
Truly Madam, if God haue lent a man any man
ners, hee may easilie put it off at Court: hee that cannot
make a legge, put off's cap, kisse his hand, and say no
thing, has neither legge, hands, lippe, nor cap; and in
deed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the
Court, but for me, I haue an answere will serue all men.
Marry that's a bountifull answere that fits all
It is like a Barbers chaire that fits all buttockes,
the pin buttocke, the quatch‑buttocke, the brawn but
tocke, or any buttocke.
Will your answere serue fit to all questions?
As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an Attu
rney, as your French Crowne for your taffety punke, as
Tibs rush for
fore‑finger, as a pancake for Shroue‑
tuesday, a Morris for May‑day, as the naile to his hole,
the Cuckold to his horne, as a scolding queane to a
wrangling knaue, as the Nuns lip to the Friers mouth,
nay as the pudding to his skin.
Haue you, I say, an answere of such fitnesse for
From below your Duke, to beneath your Con
stable, it will fit any question.
It must be an answere of most monstrous size,
that must fit all demands.
But a triflle neither in good faith, if the learned
should speake truth of it: heere it is, and all that belongs
to't. Aske mee if I am a Courtier, it shall doe you no
harme to learne.
To be young againe if we could: I will bee a
foole in question, hoping to bee the wiser by you're an
I pray you sir, are you a Courtier?
O Lord sir theres a simple putting off: more,
more, a hundred of them.
Sir I am a poore freind of yours, that loues you.
O Lord sir, thicke, thicke, spare not me.
I thinke sir, you can eate none of this homely
O Lord sir; nay put me too't, I warrant you.
You were lately whipt sir as I thinke.
O Lord sir, spare not me.
Doe you crie O Lord sir at your whipping, and
spare not me? Indeed your O Lord sir, is very sequent
to your whipping: you would answere very well to a
whipping if you were but bound too't.
I nere had worse lucke in my life in my O Lord
sir: I see things may serue long, but not serue euer.
I play the noble huswife with the time, to enter
taine it so merrily with a foole.
O Lord sir, why there't serues well agen.
Not much commendation to them.
Most fruitfully, I am there, before my
Hast you agen.
They say miracles are past, and we haue our
Philosophicall persons, to make moderne and familiar
things supernaturall and causelesse. Hence is it, that we
make trifles of terrours, ensconcing our selues into see
ming knowledge, when we should submit our selues to
an vnknowne feare.
Why 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that
hath shot out in our latter times.
And so 'tis.
To be relinquisht of the Artists.
So I say both of
Of all the learned and authenticke fellowes.
Right so I say.
That gaue him out incureable.
Why there 'tis, so say I too.
Not to be help'd.
Right, as 'twere a man assur'd of a⸺
Vncertaine life, and sure death.
Iust, you say well: so would I haue said.
I may truly say, it is a noueltie to the world.
It is indeede if you will haue it in shewing, you
shall reade it in what do ye call there.
A shewing of a heauenly effect in an earth
That's it, I would haue said, the verie same.
Why your Dolphin is not lustier: fore mee
I speake in respect⸺
Nay 'tis strange, 'tis very straunge, that is the
breefe and the tedious of it, and he's of a most facineri
ous spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the⸺
Very hand of heauen.
I, so I say.
In a most weake⸺
And debile minister great power, great tran
cendence, which should indeede giue vs a
further vse to
be made, then alone the recou'ry of the king, as to bee
I would haue said it, you say well: heere comes
Lustique, as the Dutchman saies: Ile like a
maide the Better whil'st I haue a tooth in my head: why
he's able to leade her a Carranto.
Mor du vinager, is not this
Fore God I thinke so.
Gentlemen, heauen hath through me, restor'd
the king to health.
We vnderstand it, and thanke heauen for you.
Dianfrom thy Altar do I fly,
And grant it.
Thankes sir, all the rest is mute.
No better if you please.
Do all they denie her? And they were sons
of mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send them
to'th Turke to make Eunuches of.
These boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none
haue heere: sure they are bastards to the English, the
French nere got em.
Faire one, I thinke not so.
There's one grape yet, I am sure thy father
drunke wine. But if thou be'st not an asse, I am a youth
of fourteene: I haue knowne thee already.
Why then young
Bertram take her
Know'st thou not
done for mee?
Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to know
why I should marrie her.
Thou know'st shee ha's rais'd me from my sick
I cannot loue her, nor will striue to doo't.
Thou wrong'st thy selfe, if thou shold'st striue
I take her hand.
ting of this wedding.
Do you heare Monsieur? A word with you.
Your pleasure sir.
Your Lord and Master did well to make his re
Recantation? My Lord? my Master?
I: Is it not a Language I speake?
A most harsh one, and not to bee vnderstoode
without bloudie succeeding My Master?
Are you Companion to the Count
Par. To any Count, to all Counts:
to what is man.
To what is Counts man: Counts maister is of
You are too old sir: Let it satisfie you, you are
I must tell thee sirrah, I write Man: to which
title age cannot bring thee.
What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
I did thinke thee for two ordinaries: to bee a
prettie wise fellow, thou didst make tollerable vent of
thy trauell, it might passe: yet the scarffes and the ban
nerets about thee, did manifoldlie disswade me from be
leeuing thee a vessell of too great a burthen. I haue now
found thee, when I loose thee againe, I care not: yet art
thou good for nothing but taking vp, and that th'ourt
Hadst thou not the priuiledge of Antiquity vp
Do not plundge thy selfe to farre in anger, least
thou hasten thy triall: which if, Lord haue mercie on
thee for a hen, so my good window of Lettice fare thee
well, thy casement I neede not open, for I look through
thee. Giue me thy hand.
My Lord, you giue me most egregious indignity.
I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.
I haue not my Lord deseru'd it.
Yes good faith, eu'ry dramme of it, and I will
Well, I shall be wiser.
Eu'n as soone as thou can'st, for thou hast to pull
at a smacke a'th contrarie. If euer thou bee'st bound
in thy skarfe and beaten, thou shall finde what it is to be
proud of thy bondage, I haue a desire to holde my ac
quaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I
may say in the default, he is a man I know.
My Lord you do me most insupportable vexati
I would it were hell paines for thy sake, and my
poore doing eternall: for doing I am past, as I will by
thee, in what motion age will giue me leaue.
Well, thou hast a sonne shall take this disgrace
off me; scuruy, old, filthy, scuruy Lord: Well, I must
be patient, there is no fettering of authority. Ile beate
him (by my life) if I can meete him with any conueni
ence, and he were double and double a Lord. Ile haue
no more pittie of his age then I would haue of⸺ Ile
beate him, and if I could but meet him agen.
Sirra, your Lord and masters married, there's
newes for you: you haue a new Mistris.
I most vnfainedly beseech your Lordshippe to
make some reseruation of your wrongs. He is my good
Lord, whom I serue aboue is my master.
The deuill it is, that's thy master. Why dooest
thou garter vp thy armes a this fashion? Dost make hose
of thy sleeues? Do other seruants so? Thou wert best set
thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine Honor,
if I were but two houres yonger, I'de beate thee: mee
think'st thou art a generall offence, and euery man shold
beate thee: I thinke thou wast created for men to breath
themselues vpon thee.
This is hard and vndeserued measure my Lord.
Go too sir, you were beaten in
a kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, and
no true traueller: you are more sawcie with Lordes and
honourable personages, then the Commission of your
birth and vertue giues you Heraldry. You are not worth
another word, else I'de call you knaue. I leaue you.
Good, very good, it is so then: good, very
good, let it be conceal'd awhile.
Vndone, and forfeited to cares for euer.
What's the matter sweet‑heart?
Although before the solemne Priest I haue
sworne, I will not bed her.
What? what sweet heart?
Parrolles, they haue married me: Tuscanwarres, and neuer bed her. Franceis a dog‑hole, and it no more merits,
There's letters from my mother: What th' im
port is, I know not yet.
Marsesfierie steed: to other Regions, Franceis a stable, wee that dwell in't Iades,
Will this Caprichio hold in thee, art sure?
My mother greets me kindly, is she well?
She is not well, but yet she has her health, she's
very merrie, but yet she is not well: but thankes be gi
uen she's very well, and wants nothing i'th world: but
yet she is not well.
If she be verie wel, what do's she ayle, that she's
not verie well?
Truly she's very well indeed, but for two things
What two things?
One, that she's not in heauen, whether God send
her quickly: the other, that she's in earth, from whence
God send her quickly.
Blesse you my fortunate Ladie
I hope sir I haue your good will to haue mine
owne good fortune.
You had my prayers to leade them on, and to
keepe them on, haue them still. O my knaue, how do's
my old Ladie?
Why I say nothing.
Marry you are the wiser man: for many a mans
tongue shakes out his masters vndoing: to say nothing,
to do nothing, to know nothing, and to haue nothing,
is to be a great part of your title, which is within a verie
little of nothing.
Away, th'art a knaue.
You should haue said sir before a knaue, th'art a
knaue, that's before me th'art a knaue: this had beene
Go too, thou art a wittie foole, I haue found
Did you finde me in your selfe sir, or were you
taught to finde me?
The search sir was profitable, and much Foole
may you find in you, euen to the worlds pleasure, and the
encrease of laughter.
What's his will else?
What more commands hee?
In euery thing I waite vpon his will.
I shall report it so.
I pray you come sirrah.
But I hope your Lordshippe thinkes not him a
Yes my Lord and of verie valiant approofe.
You haue it from his owne deliuerance.
And by other warranted testimonie.
Then my Diall goes not true, I tooke this Larke
for a bunting.
I do assure you my Lord he is very great in know
ledge, and accordinglie valiant.
I haue then sinn'd against his experience, and
transgrest against his valour, and my state that way is
dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent:
Heere he comes, I pray you make vs freinds, I will pur
sue the amitie.
These things shall be done sir.
Pray you sir whose his Tailor?
O I know him well, I sir, hee sirs a good worke
man, a verie good Tailor.
Is shee gone to the king?
Will shee away to night?
As you'le haue her.
A good Trauailer is something at the latter end
of a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and vses a
known truth to passe a thousand nothings with, should
bee once hard, and thrice beaten. God saue you Cap
Is there any vnkindnes betweene my Lord and
I know not how I haue deserued to run into my
You haue made shift to run into't, bootes and
spurres and all: like him that leapt into the Custard, and
out of it you'le runne againe, rather then suffer question
for your residence.
It may bee you haue mistaken him my Lord.
And shall doe so euer, though I tooke him at's
prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeue this of
of this man is his cloathes: Trust him not in matter of
heauie consequence: I haue kept of them tame, & know
their natures. Farewell Monsieur, I haue spoken better
of you, then you haue or will to deserue at my hand, but
we must do good against euill.
An idle Lord, I sweare.
I thinke so.
Why do you not know him?
Helenat my course,
Sir, I can nothing say, But that I am your most obedient seruant.
Come, come, no more of that.
Pray sir your pardon.
Well, what would you say?
What would you haue?
I pray you stay not, but in hast to horse.
with a troope of Souldiers.
Be it his pleasure.
It hath happen'd all, as I would haue had it, saue
that he comes not along with her.
By my troth I take my young Lord to be a ve
rie melancholly man.
By what obseruance I pray you.
Why he will looke vppon his boote, and sing:
mend the Ruffe and sing, aske questions and sing, picke
his teeth, and sing: I know a man that had this tricke of
melancholy hold a goodly Mannor for a song.
Let me see what he writes, and when he meanes
I haue no minde to
Isbell since I was at
Our old Lings, and our
Isbels a'th Country, are nothing
old Ling and your
Court: the brains
of my Cupid's knock'd out, and I beginne to loue, as an
old man loues money, with no stomacke.
What haue we heere?
In that you haue there.
I haue sent you a daughter‑in‑Law, shee hath recouered the
King, and vndone me: I haue wedded her, not bedded her,
and sworne to make the not eternall. You shall heare I am
runne away, know it before the report come. If there bee
bredth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance.
My duty to you.
Your vnfortunate sonne,
O Madam, yonder is heauie newes within be
tweene two souldiers, and my yong Ladie.
What is the matter.
Nay there is some comfort in the newes, some
comfort, your sonne will not be kild so soone as I thoght
Why should he be kill'd?
So say I Madame, if he runne away, as I heare he
does, the danger is in standing too't, that's the losse of
men, though it be the getting of children. Heere they
come will tell you more. For my part I onely heare your
sonne was run away.
Saue you good Madam.
Madam, my Lord is gone, for euer gone.
Do not say so.
Looke on his Letter Madam, here's my Pasport.
When thou canst get the Ring vpon my finger, which neuer
shall come off, and shew mee a childe begotten of thy bodie,
that I am father too, then call me husband: but in such a (then)
I write a Neuer.
This is a dreadfull sentence.
Brought you this Letter Gentlemen?
I Madam, and for the Contents sake are sorrie
for our paines.
And to be a souldier.
Returne you thither.
I Madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
Finde you that there?
'Tis but the boldnesse of his hand haply, which
his heart was not consenting too.
A seruant onely, and a Gentleman:
haue sometime knowne.
Parolles was it not?
I my good Ladie, hee.
Indeed good Ladie the fellow has a deale of
that, too much, which holds him much to haue.
Y'are welcome Gentlemen, I will intreate you
when you see my sonne, to tell him that his sword can
winne the honor that he looses: more Ile intreate
We serue you Madam in that and all your
Rossillion, none in France, Rossillion,
drum and trumpets, soldiers, Parrolles.
Rynaldo, you did neuer lacke aduice so much, Rynaldo,
and Mariana, with other
Diana, take heed of this French Earle,
I know that knaue, hang him, one
a filthy Officer he is in those suggestions for the young
Earle, beware of them
Diana; their promises,
ments, 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 maidenߛhood, 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
You shall not neede to feare me.
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
Iaques la grand.
At the S.
Francis heere beside the
Is this the way?
Is it your selfe?
If you shall please so Pilgrime.
I thanke you, and will stay vpon your leisure.
you came I thinke from
I did so.
His name I pray you?
Rossillion: know you such a
I surely meere the truth, I know his Lady.
What's his name?
Enter Count Rossillion, Parrolles, and the whole Armie.
The goddes forbid else.
Anthoniothe Dukes eldest sonne, Escalus.
Which is the Frenchman?
I like him well.
Which is he?
That Iacke an‑apes with scarfes. Why is hee
Perchance he's hurt i'th battaile.
Loose our drum? Well.
He's shrewdly vext at something. Looke he
has spyed vs.
Marrie hang you.
And your curtesie, for a ring‑carrier.
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.
Alreadie at my house.
Wee'l take your offer kindly.
as at first.
Nay good my Lord put him too't: let him
haue his way.
If your Lordshippe finde him not a Hilding,
hold me no more in your respect.
On my life my Lord a bubble.
Do you thinke I am so farre
Deceiued in him.
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 infi
nite and endlesse Lyar, an hourely promise‑breaker, the
owner of no one good qualitie, worthy your Lordships
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
I would I knew in what particular action to try
None better then to let him fetch off his
drumme, which you heare him so confidently vnder
take to do.
I with a troop of Florentines wil sodainly sur
not from the enemie: wee will binde and hoodwinke
him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is car
ried 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
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 mel
ted if you giue him not Iohn drummes entertainement,
your inclining cannot be remoued. Heere he comes.
O for the loue of laughter hinder not the ho
nor of his designe, let him fetch off his drumme in any
How now Monsieur? This drumme sticks sore
ly in your disposition.
A pox on't, let it go, 'tis but a drumme.
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
That was not to be blam'd in the command
seruice: it was a disaster of warre that
selfe could not haue preuented, if he had beene there to
Well, wee cannot greatly condemne our suc
cesse: some dishonor wee had in the losse of that drum,
but it is not to be recouered.
It might haue beene recouered.
It might, but it is not now.
It is to be recouered, but that the merit of ser
uice is sildome attributed to the true and exact perfor
mer, I would haue that drumme or another, or
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.
By the hand of a souldier I will vndertake it.
But you must not now slumber in it.
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.
May I bee bold to acquaint his grace you are
gone about it.
I know not what the successe wil be my Lord,
but the attempt I vow.
I loue not many words.
No more then a fish loues water. Is not this
vndertake this businesse, which he knowes is not to be
done, damnes himselfe to do, & dares better be damnd
then to doo't.
You do not know him my Lord as we doe,
certaine it is that he will steale himselfe into a mans fa
uour, and for a weeke escape a great deale of discoue
ries, but when you finde him out, you haue him euer af
Why do you thinke he will make no deede at
all of this that so seriouslie hee dooes addresse himself
None in the world, but returne with an in
uention, 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 re
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 ve
Your brother he shall go along with me.
As't please your Lordship, Ile leaue you.
But you say she's honest.
With all my heart my Lord.
Now I see the bottome of your purpose.
souldiers in ambush.
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.
Good Captaine, let me be th' Interpreter.
Art not acquainted with him? knowes he not
No sir I warrant you.
But what linsie wolsy hast thou to speake to vs
E'n such as you speake to me.
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.
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
too foole‑hardie, but my heart hath the feare of Mars
before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of
This is the first truth that ere thine own tongue
was guiltie of.
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
Baiazeths Mule, if you prattle mee into these
Is it possible he should know what hee is, and
be that he is.
I would the cutting of my garments wold serue
the turne, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.
We cannot affoord you so.
Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in
'Twould not do.
Or to drowne my cloathes, and say I was stript.
Though I swore I leapt from the window of the
Three great oathes would scarse make that be
I would I had any drumme of the enemies, I
would sweare I recouer'd it.
You shall heare one anon.
A drumme now of the enemies.
Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.
Boskos thromuldo boskos.
MuskosRegiment, Boskos vauvado, I vnderstand thee,
& can speake
Kerelybonto sir, betake thee to thy faith, for
seuenteene ponyards are at thy bosome.
Oh pray, pray, pray,
But wilt thou faithfully?
If I do not, damne me.
Acordo linta. Rossillionand my brother,
Captaine I will.
A will betray vs all vnto our selues,
Informe on that.
So I will sir.
Till then Ile keepe him darke and safely lockt.
They told me that your name was
No my good Lord,
She then was honest.
So should you be.
How haue I sworne.
Will you not my Lord?
A heauen on earth I haue won by wooing thee.
You may so in the end.
You haue not giuen him his mothers letter.
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.
He has much worthy blame laid vpon him,
for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a Lady.
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.
When you haue spoken it 'tis dead, and I am
the graue of it.
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 himself
made in the vnchaste composition.
Now God delay our rebellion as we are our
selues, what things are we.
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.
Is it not meant damnable in vs, to be Trum
peters of our vnlawfull intents? We shall not then haue
his company to night?
Not till after midnight: for hee is dieted to
That approaches apace: I would gladly haue
him see his
company anathomiz'd, that hee might take
he had set this counterfeit.
We will not meddle with him till he come;
for his presence must be the whip of the other.
In the meane time, what heare you of these
I heare there is an ouerture of peace.
Nay, I assure you a peace concluded.
What will Count
Rossillion do then? Will
trauaile higher, or returne againe into France?
I perceiue by this demand, you are not alto
gether of his councell.
Let it be forbid sir, so should I bee a great
deale of his act.
Sir, his wife some two months since fledde
house, her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint
; which holy vndertaking, with most
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.
How is this iustified?
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.
Hath the Count all this intelligence?
I, and the particular confirmations, point
from point, to the full arming of the veritie.
I am heartily sorrie that hee'l bee gladde of
How mightily sometimes, we make vs com
forts of our losses.
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.
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.
How now? Where's your master?
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.
They shall bee no more then needfull there,
if they were more then they can commend.
They cannot be too sweete for the Kings tart
nesse, heere's his Lordship now. How now my Lord,
i'st not after midnight?
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.
If the businesse bee of any difficulty, and this
morning your departure hence, it requires hast of
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
Bring him forth, ha's sate i'th stockes all night
poore gallant knaue.
No matter, his heeles haue deseru'd it, in vsur
ping his spurres so long. How does he carry himselfe?
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,
to this very instant disaster of his setting i'th stockes:
and what thinke you he hath confest?
Nothing of me, ha's a?
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.
A plague vpon him, muffeld; he can say nothing
of me: hush, hush.
He calles for the tortures, what will you say
You are a mercifull Generall: Our Generall
bids you answer to what I shall aske you out of a Note.
And truly, as I hope to lieu.
First demand of him, how many horse the Duke
is strong. What say you to that?
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.
Shall I set downe your answer so?
Do, Ile take the Sacrament on't, how & which
way you will: all's one to him.
What a past‑sauing slaue is this?
Y'are deceiu'd my Lord, this is Mounsieur
Parrolles the gallant militarist, that was his owne
that had the whole theoricke of warre in the knot of his
scarfe, and the practise in the chape of his dagger.
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.
Well, that's set downe.
Fiue or six thousand horse I sed, I will say true,
or thereabouts set downe, for Ile speake truth.
He's very neere the truth in this.
But I con him no thankes for't in the nature he
Poore rogues, I pray you say.
Well, that's set downe.
Rogues are maruailous poore.
Demaund of him of what strength they are a
foot. What say you to that?
By my troth sir, if I were to liue this present
will tell true. Let me see,
Spurio a hundred &
Sebastian so many,
Corambus so many,
Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowicke, and
Gratij, two hun
dred fiftie each: Mine owne
, two hundred fiftie each: so that the
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.
What shall be done to him?
Nothing, but let him haue thankes. Demand
of him my condition: and what credite I haue with the
Well that's set downe: you shall demaund of
whether one Captaine
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‑weighing
summes of gold to corrupt him to a reuolt. What say you
to this? What do you know of it?
I beseech you let me answer to the particular of
the intergatories. Demand them singly.
Do you know this Captaine
I know him, a was a Botchers Prentize in
from whence he was whipt for getting the Shrieues fool
with childe, a dumbe innocent that could not say him
Nay, by your leaue hold your hands, though I
know his braines are forfeite to the next tile that fals.
Well, is this Captaine in the Duke of Florences
Vpon my knowledge he is, and lowsie.
Nay looke not so vpon me: we shall heare of
your Lord anon.
What is his reputation with the Duke?
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
Marry we'll search.
In good sadnesse I do not know, either it is there,
or it is vpon a file with the Dukes other Letters, in my
Heere 'tis, heere's a paper, shall I reade it to you?
I do not know if it be it or no.
Our Interpreter do's it well.
Dian, the Counts a foole, and full of gold.
That is not the Dukes letter sir: that is an ad
uertisement to a proper maide in Florence, one
take heede of the allurement of one Count
foolish idle boy: but for all that very ruttish. I pray you
sir put it vp againe.
Nay, Ile reade it first by your fauour.
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.
Damnable both‑sides rogue.
Thine as he vow'd to thee in thine eare,
He shall be whipt through the Armie with this
rime in's forehead.
This is your deuoted friend sir, the manifold
Linguist, and the army‑potent souldier.
I could endure any thing before but a Cat, and
now he's a Cat to me.
I perceiue sir by your Generals lookes, wee shall
be faine to hang you.
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.
Wee'le see what may bee done, so you confesse
freely: therefore once more to this Captaine
you haue answer'd to his reputation with the Duke, and
to his valour. What is his honestie?
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,
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.
I begin to loue him for this.
For this description of thine honestie? A pox
vpon him for me, he's more and more a Cat.
What say you to his expertnesse in warre?
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
, to instruct
for the doubling of files. I would doe the
man what honour I can, but of this I am not certaine.
He hath out‑villain'd villanie so farre, that the
raritie redeemes him.
A pox on him, he's a Cat still.
His qualities being at this poore price, I neede
not to aske you, if Gold will corrupt him to reuolt.
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
What's his Brother, the other Captain
Why do's he aske him of me?
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
If your life be saued, will you vndertake to betray
I, and the Captaine of his horse, Count
Ile whisper with the Generall, and knowe his
Ile no more drumming, a plague of all drummes,
seeme to deserue well, and to beguile the suppo
sition of that lasciuious yong boy the Count, haue I run
into this danger: yet who would haue suspected an am
bush where I was taken?
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.
O Lord sir let me liue, or let me see my death.
That shall you, and take your leaue of all your
So, looke about you, know you any heere?
Good morrow noble Captaine.
God blesse you Captaine
God saue you noble Captaine.
Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord
Lafew? I am for
Good Captaine will you giue me a Copy of
the sonnet you
Diana in behalfe of the Count
Rossillion, and I were not a verie
Coward, I'de compel
it of you, but far you well.
You are vndone Captaine all but your scarfe,
that has a knot on't yet.
Who cannot be crush'd with a plot?
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
France too, we shall speake of you there.
Marcellæ, to which place Diana,
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
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.
Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. Wee
may picke a thousand sallets ere wee light on such ano
Indeed sir she was the sweete Margerom of the
sallet, or rather the hearbe of grace.
They are not hearbes you knaue, they are nose
I am no great
Nabuchadnezar sir, I haue
much skill in grace.
Whether doest thou professe thy selfe, a knaue
or a foole?
A foole sir at a womans seruice, and a knaue
at a mans.
I would cousen the man of his wife, and do his
So you were a knaue at his seruice indeed.
And I would giue his wife my bauble sir to doe
I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knaue
At your seruice.
No, no, no.
Why sir, if I cannot serue you, I can serue as
great a prince as you are.
Whose that, a Frenchman?
Faith sir a has an English maine, but his fisno
mie is more hotter in France then there.
What prince is that?
The blacke prince sir, alias the prince of darke
nesse, alias the diuell.
Hold thee there's my purse, I giue thee not this
to suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st off, serue
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
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.
If I put any trickes vpon em sir, they shall bee
Iades trickes, which are their owne right by the law of
A shrewd knaue and an vnhappie.
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.
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?
With verie much content my Lord, and I wish
it happily effected.
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.
It 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.
Madam, I was thinking with what manners I
might safely be admitted.
You neede but pleade your honourable priui
Ladie, of that I haue made a bold charter, but
I thanke my God, it holds yet.
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.
But it is your carbinado'd face.
Let vs go see
your sonne I pray you, I long to talke
With the yong noble souldier.
'Faith there's a dozen of em, with delicate
fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the
head, and nod at euerie man.
Sir, I haue seene you in the Court of France.
I haue beene sometimes there.
What's your will?
The Kings not heere.
Not heere sir?
Lord how we loose our paines.
Marrie as I take it to
Whither I am going.
This Ile do for you.
And you shall finde your selfe to be well thankt
what e're falles more. We must to horse againe, Go, go,
Lauatch giue my Lord
ter, I haue ere now sir beene better knowne to you, when
I haue held familiaritie with fresher cloathes: but I am
now sir muddied in fortunes mood, and smell somewhat
strong of her strong displeasure.
Truely, Fortunes displeasure is but sluttish if it
smell so strongly as thou speak'st of: I will henceforth
eate no Fish of Fortunes butt'ring. Prethee alow the
Nay you neede not to stop your nose sir: I spake
but by a Metaphor.
Indeed sir, if your Metaphor stinke, I will stop
my nose, or against any mans Metaphor. Prethe get thee
Pray you sir deliuer me this paper.
Foh, prethee stand away: a paper from fortunes
close‑stoole, to giue to a Nobleman. Looke heere he
Heere is a purre of Fortunes sir, or of Fortunes
Cat, but not a Muscat, that ha's falne into the vncleane
fish‑pond of her displeasure, and as he sayes is muddied
withall. Pray you sir, vse the Carpe as you may, for he
My Lord I am a man whom fortune hath cruel
And what would you haue me to doe? 'Tis too
I beseech your honour to heare mee one single
you begge a single peny more: Come you shall
ha't, saue your word.
My name my good Lord is
You begge more then word then. Cox my pas
O my good Lord, you were the first that found
Was I insooth? And I was the first that lost thee.
It lies in you my Lord to bring me in some grace
Out vpon thee knaue, doest thou put vpon mee
I praise God for you.
Lords, with attendants.
We lost a Iewell of her, and our esteeme
'Tis past my Liege,
I shall my Liege.
All that he is, hath reference to your Highnes.
Then shall we haue a match. I haue letters sent
me, that sets him high in fame.
He lookes well on't.
Helensknell, and now forget her. Maudlin, Helenthat's dead
Hers it was not.
I am sure I saw her weare it.
She neuer saw it.
I am wrap'd in dismall thinkings.
Upon his many protestations to marrie mee when his wife was
dead, I blush to say it, he wonne me. Now is the Count Ros
sillion a Widdower, his vowes are forfeited to mee, and my
honors payed to him. Hee stole from Florence, taking no
leaue, and I follow him to his Countrey for Iustice: Grant
it me, O King, in you it best lies, otherwise a seducer flou
rishes, and a poore Maid is vndone.
I will buy me a sonne in Law in a faire, and toule
for this. Ile none of him.
I am a‑feard the life of
Was fowly snatcht.
Now iustice on the doers.
Come hether Count, do you know these Wo
Why do you looke so strange vpon your wife?
She's none of mine my Lord.
Your reputation comes too short for my daugh
ter, you are no husband for her.
What saist thou to her?
I saw the man to day, if man he bee.
Finde him, and bring him hether.
She hath that Ring of yours.
I haue it not.
What Ring was yours I pray you?
Sir much like the same vpon your finger.
Know you this Ring, this Ring was his of late.
And this was it I gaue him being a bed.
The story then goes false, you threw it him
I haue spoke the truth.
My Lord, I do confesse the ring was hers.
I, my Lord
So please your Maiesty, my master hath bin an
honourable Gentleman. Trickes hee hath had in him,
which Gentlemen haue.
Come, come, to'th' purpose: Did hee loue this
Faith sir he did loue her, but how.
How I pray you?
He did loue her sir, as a Gent. loues a Woman.
How is that?
He lou'd her sir, and lou'd her not.
As thou art a knaue and no knaue, what an equi
uocall Companion is this?
I am a poore man, and at your Maiesties com
Hee's a good drumme my Lord, but a naughtie
Do you know he promist me marriage?
Faith I know more then Ile speake.
But wilt thou not speake all thou know'st?
Yes so please your Maiesty: I did goe betweene
them as I said, but more then that he loued her, for in
deede he was madde for her, and talkt of Sathan, and of
Limbo, and of Furies, and I know not what: yet I was in
that credit with them at that time, that I knewe of their
going to bed, and of other motions, as promising her
marriage, and things which would deriue mee ill will to
speake of, therefore I will not speake what I know.
Thou hast spoken all alreadie, vnlesse thou canst
say they are maried, but thou art too fine in thy euidence,
therefore stand aside. This Ring you say was yours.
I my good Lord.
Where did you buy it? Or who gaue it you?
It was not giuen me, nor I did not buy it.
Who lent it you?
It was not lent me neither.
Where did you finde it then?
I found it not.
I neuer gaue it him.
This womans an easie gloue my Lord, she goes
off and on at pleasure.
This Ring was mine, I gaue it his first wife.
It might be yours or hers for ought I know.
Ile neuer tell you.
Take her away.
Ile put in baile my liedge.
I thinke thee now some common Customer.
By Ioue if euer I knew man 'twas you.
Wherefore hast thou accusde him al this while.
She does abuse our eares, to prison with her.
No my good Lord,
Both, both, O pardon.
thee: Let thy curtsies alone, they are scuruy ones.