Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/All's Well That Ends Well/Act 4
Actus Quartus.
Enter one of the Frenchmen, with fiue or sixe othersouldiers in ambush.
Lord E. He can come no other way but by this hedgecorner: when you sallie vpon him, speake what terribleLanguage you will: though you vnderstand it not yourselues, no matter: for we must not seeme to vnderstandhim, vnlesse some one among vs, whom wee must produce for an Interpreter.
1.Sol. Good Captaine, let me be th' Interpreter.
Lor.E. Art not acquainted with him? knowes he notthy 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'thaduersaries entertainment. Now he hath a smacke of allneighbouring Languages: therefore we must euery onebe a man of his owne fancie, not to know what we speakone to another: so we seeme to know, is to know straightour purpose: Choughs language, gabble enough, andgood enough. As for you interpreter, you must seemevery politicke. But couch hoa, heere hee comes, to beguile two houres in a sleepe, and then to returne & swearthe lies he forges.
Enter Parrolles.
Par. Ten a clocke: Within these three houres 'twillbe time enough to goe home. What shall I say I hauedone? It must bee a very plausiue inuention that carriesit. They beginne to smoake mee, and disgraces haue oflate, knock'd too often at my doore: I finde my tongueis too foole-hardie, but my heart hath the feare of Marsbefore it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports ofmy tongue.
Lo.E. This is the first truth that ere thine own tonguewas guiltie of.
Par. What the diuell should moue mee to vndertakethe recouerie of this drumme, being not ignorant of theimpossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? Imust 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 notgiue, wherefore what's the instance. Tongue, I must putyou into a Butter-womans mouth, and buy my selfe another of Baiazeths Mule, if you prattle mee into theseperilles.
Lo.E. Is it possible he should know what hee is, andbe that he is.
Par. I would the cutting of my garments wold seruethe 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, Iwould sweare I recouer'd it.
Lo.E. You shall heare one anon.
Par. A drumme now of the enemies.
Alarum within.
Lo E. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
All. Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.
Par. O ransome, ransome,Do not hide mine eyes.
Inter. Boskos thromuldo boskos.
Par. I know you are the Muskos Regiment,And I shall loose my life for want of language.If there be heere German or Dane, Low Dutch,Italian, or French, let him speake to me,Ile discouer that, which shal vndo the Florentine.
Int. Boskos vauvado, I vnderstand thee, & can speakethy tongue: Kerelybonto sir, betake thee to thy faith, forseuenteene 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 onTo gather from thee. Haply thou mayst informeSomething 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.ExitCome on, thou are granted space.
A short Alarum within.
L.E. Go tell the Count Rossillion and my brother,We haue caught the woodcocke, and will keepe him mufledTill 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. Exit.Till then Ile keepe him darke and safely lockt.
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 monumentWhen you are dead you should be such a oneAs you are now: for you are cold and sterne,And now you should be as your mother wasWhen 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 theeBy loues owne sweet constraint, and will for euerDo thee all rights of seruice.
Dia. I so you serue vsTill 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 holdingTo sweare by him whom I protest to loueThat I will worke against him. Therefore your oathesAre words and poore conditions, but vnseal'dAt lest in my opinion.
Ber. Change it, change it:Be not so holy cruell: Loue is holie,And my integritie ne're knew the craftsThat 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 euerMy 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 powerTo 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 wisedomeBrings 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 putAnother Ring, that what in time proceeds,May token to the future, our past deeds.Adieu till then, then faile not: you haue wonneA 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 menHaue the like oathes: He had sworne to marrie meWhen his wife's dead: therfore Ile lye with himWhen 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,Exit.To cosen him that would vniustly winne.
Enter the two French Captaines, and some two or threeSouldiours.
Cap.G. You haue not giuen him his mothers letter.
Cap.E. I haue deliu'red it an houre since, there is somthing 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 euerlastingdispleasure of the King, who had euen tun'd his bountyto sing happinesse to him. I will tell you a thing, butyou shall let it dwell darkly with you.
Cap.G. When you haue spoken it 'tis dead, and I amthe graue of it.
Cap.E. Hee hath peruerted a young Gentlewomanheere in Florence, of a most chaste renown, & this nighthe fleshes his will in the spoyle of her honour: hee hathgiuen her his monumentall Ring, and thinkes himselfemade in the vnchaste composition.
Cap.G. Now God delay our rebellion as we are ourselues, what things are we.
Cap.E. Meerely our owne traitours. And as in thecommon course of all treasons, we still see them reuealethemselues, till they attaine to their abhorr'd ends: sohe 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 hauehis company to night?
Cap.E. Not till after midnight: for hee is dieted tohis houre.
Cap.G. That approaches apace: I would gladly hauehim see his company anathomiz'd, that hee might take a measure of his owne iudgements, wherein so curiouslyhe 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 hetrauaile 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 greatdeale of his act.
Cap.G. Sir, his wife some two months since fleddefrom 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 hergreefe: in fine, made a groane of her last breath, & nowshe 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 herdeath: her death it selfe, which could not be her officeto say, is come: was faithfully confirm'd by the Rectorof the place.
Cap.E. Hath the Count all this intelligence?
Cap.G. I, and the particular confirmations, pointfrom 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, weedrowne our gaine in teares, the great dignitie that hisvalour 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, ifour faults whipt them not, and our crimes would dispaire 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 heehath taken a solemne leaue: his Lordshippe will nextmorning 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, amoneths length a peece, by an abstract of successe: Ihaue congied with the Duke, done my adieu with hisneerest; 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 hauenot ended yet.
Cap.E. If the businesse bee of any difficulty, and thismorning your departure hence, it requires hast of yourLordship.
Ber. I meane the businesse is not ended, as fearingto heare of it hereafter: but shall we haue this dialoguebetweene the Foole and the Soldiour. Come, bringforth this counterfet module, ha's deceiu'd mee, like adouble-meaning Prophesier.
Cap.E. Bring him forth, ha's sate i'th stockes all nightpoore 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: Thestockes carrie him. But to answer you as you would bevnderstood, hee weepes like a wench that had shed hermilke, he hath confest himselfe to Morgan, whom heesupposes to be a Friar, frõ the time of his remembranceto 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 readto his face, if your Lordshippe be in't, as I beleeue youare, you must haue the patience to heare it.
Enter Parolles with his Interpreter.
Ber. A plague vpon him, muffeld; he can say nothingof me: hush, hush.
Cap.G. Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa.
Inter. He calles for the tortures, what will you saywithout 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 Generallbids 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 Dukeis 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 andcredit, and as I hope to liue.
Int. Shall I set downe your answer so?
Par. Do, Ile take the Sacrament on't, how & whichway 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 MounsieurParrolles the gallant militarist, that was his owne phrasethat had the whole theoricke of warre in the knot of hisscarfe, and the practise in the chape of his dagger.
Cap.E. I will neuer trust a man againe, for keepinghis sword cleane, nor beleeue he can haue euerie thingin 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 hedeliuers 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, theRogues are maruailous poore.
Interp. Demaund of him of what strength they are afoot. What say you to that?
Par. By my troth sir, if I were to liue this presenthoure, I will tell true. Let me see, Spurio a hundred & fiftie, Sebastian so many, Corambus so many, Iaques somany: Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowicke, and Gratij, two hundred fiftie each: Mine owne Company, Chitopher, Vaumond,Bentij, two hundred fiftie each: so that the musterfile, rotten and sound, vppon my life amounts not to fifteene thousand pole, halfe of the which, dare not shakethe 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. Demandof him my condition: and what credite I haue with theDuke.
Int. Well that's set downe: you shall demaund ofhim, whether one Captaine Dumaine bee i'th Campe, aFrenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, whathis valour, honestie, and expertnesse in warres: or whether he thinkes it were not possible with well-waighingsummes of gold to corrupt him to a reuolt. What say youto this? What do you know of it?
Par. I beseech you let me answer to the particular ofthe 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 foolwith childe, a dumbe innocent that could not say him nay.
Ber. Nay, by your leaue hold your hands, though Iknow 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.
Cap.G. Nay looke not so vpon me: we shall heare ofyour Lord anon.
Int. What is his reputation with the Duke?
Par. The Duke knowes him for no other, but a pooreOfficer of mine, and writ to mee this other day, to turnehim 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 myTent.
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, totake heede of the allurement of one Count Rossillion, afoolish idle boy: but for all that very ruttish. I pray yousir put it vp againe.
Int. Nay, Ile reade it first by your fauour.
Par. My meaning in't I protest was very honest in thebehalfe of the maid: for I knew the young Count to be adangerous 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 thisrime in's forehead.
Cap.E. This is your deuoted friend sir, the manifoldLinguist, and the army-potent souldier.
Ber. I could endure any thing before but a Cat, andnow he's a Cat to me.
Int. I perceiue sir by your Generals lookes, wee shallbe faine to hang you.
Par. My life sir in any case: Not that I am afraide todye, but that my offences beeing many, I would repentout 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 confessefreely: therefore once more to this Captaine Dumaine:you haue answer'd to his reputation with the Duke, andto his valour. What is his honestie?
Par. He will steale sir an Egge out of a Cloister: forrapes and rauishments he paralels Nessus. Hee professesnot keeping of oaths, in breaking em he is stronger thenHercules. He will lye sir, with such volubilitie, that youwould thinke truth were a foole: drunkennesse is his bestvertue, for he will be swine-drunke, and in his sleepe hedoes little harme, saue to his bed-cloathes about him:but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. Ihaue but little more to say sir of his honesty, he ha's euerie thing that an honest man should not haue; what anhonest man should haue, he has nothing.
Cap.G. I begin to loue him for this.
Ber. For this description of thine honestie? A poxvpon 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 hissouldiership I know not, except in that Country, he hadthe honour to be the Officer at a place there called Mile-end,to instruct for the doubling of files. I would doe theman what honour I can, but of this I am not certaine.
Cap.G. He hath out-villain'd villanie so farre, that theraritie redeemes him.
Ber. A pox on him, he's a Cat still.
Int. His qualities being at this poore price, I needenot to aske you, if Gold will corrupt him to reuolt.
Par. Sir, for a Cardceue he will sell the fee-simple ofhis saluation, the inheritance of it, and cut th' intaile fromall 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 sogreat as the first in goodnesse, but greater a great deale ineuill. He excels his Brother for a coward, yet his Brotheris 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 betraythe 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 of that lasciuious yong boy the Count, haue I run into this danger: yet who would haue suspected an ambush where I was taken?
Int. There is no remedy sir, but you must dye: theGenerall sayes, you that haue so traitorously discouerdthe secrets of your army, and made such pestifferous reports of men very nobly held, can serue the world forno 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 LordLafew? I am for France.
Cap.G. Good Captaine will you giue me a Copy ofthe sonnet you writ to Diana in behalfe of the CountRossillion, and I were not a verie Coward, I'de compellExeunt.it of you, but far you well.
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 butwomen were that had receiued so much shame, youmight begin an impudent Nation. Fare yee well sir, Iam for France too, we shall speake of you there. ExitPar. 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 softAs Captaine shall. Simply the thing I amShall make me liue: who knowes himselfe a braggartLet him feare this; for it will come to passe,That euery braggart shall be found an Asse.Rust sword, coole blushes, and Parrolles liueSafest in shame: being fool'd, by fool'rie thriue;There's place and meanes for euery man aliue.Exit.Ile after them.
Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana.
Hel. That you may well perceiue I haue not wrong'd you,One of the greatest in the Christian worldShall be my suretie: for whose throne 'tis needfullEre I can perfect mine intents, to kneele.Time was, I did him a desired officeDeere almost as his life, which gratitudeThrough flintie Tartars bosome would peepe forth,And answer thankes. I duly am inform'd,His grace is at Marcellæ, to which placeWe haue conuenient conuoy: you must knowI 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 trustYour busines was more welcome.
Hel. Nor your MistrisEuer a friend, whose thoughts more truly labourTo recompence your loue: Doubt not but heauenHath brought me vp to be your daughters dower,As it hath fated her to be my motiueAnd 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 thoughtsDefiles the pitchy night, so lust doth playWith what it loathes, for that which is away,But more of this heereafter: you Diana,Vnder my poore instructions yet must sufferSomething in my behalfe.
Dia. Let death and honestieGo with your impositions, I am yoursVpon 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;Exeunt.What ere the course, the end is the renowne.
Enter Clowne, old Lady, and Lafew.
Laf. No, no, no, your sonne was misled with a snipttaffata fellow there, whose villanous saffron wold hauemade all the vnbak'd and dowy youth of a nation in hiscolour: your daughter-in-law had beene aliue at thishoure, and your sonne heere at home, more aduanc'dby the King, then by that red-tail'd humble Bee I speak of.
La. I would I had not knowne him, it was the deathof the most vertuous gentlewoman, that euer Naturehad praise for creating. If she had pertaken of my fleshand cost mee the deerest groanes of a mother, I couldnot haue owed her a more rooted loue.
Laf. Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. Weemay picke a thousand sallets ere wee light on such another hearbe.
Clo. Indeed sir she was the sweete Margerom of thesallet, 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 notmuch skill in grace.
Laf. Whether doest thou professe thy selfe, a knaueor 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 doeher seruice.
Laf. I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knaueand foole.
Clo. At your seruice.
Laf. No, no, no.
Clo. Why sir, if I cannot serue you, I can serue asgreat 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 thisto suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st off, seruehim still.
Clo. I am a woodland fellow sir, that alwaies loueda great fire, and the master I speak of euer keeps a goodfire, but sure he is the Prince of the world, let his Nobilitie remaine in's Court. I am for the house with thenarrow gate, which I take to be too little for pompe toenter: some that humble themselues may, but the manie will be too chill and tender, and theyle bee for theflowrie 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 outwith thee. Go thy wayes, let my horses be wel look'dtoo, without any trickes.
Clo. If I put any trickes vpon em sir, they shall beeIades trickes, which are their owne right by the law ofexitNature.
Laf. A shrewd knaue and an vnhappie.
Lady. So a is. My Lord that's gone made himselfemuch sport out of him, by his authoritie hee remainesheere, 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 aboutto tell you, since I heard of the good Ladies death, andthat my Lord your sonne was vpon his returne home. Imoued the King my master to speake in the behalfe ofmy daughter, which in the minoritie of them both, hisMaiestie out of a selfe gracious remembrance did firstpropose, his Highnesse hath promis'd me to doe it, andto stoppe vp the displeasure he hath conceiued againstyour sonne, there is no fitter matter. How do's yourLadyship like it?
La. With verie much content my Lord, and I wishit happily effected.
Laf. His Highnesse comes post from Marcellus, of asable bodie as when he number'd thirty, a will be heereto morrow, or I am deceiu'd by him that in such intelligence hath seldome fail'd.
La. It reioyces me, that I hope I shall see him ere Idie. I haue letters that my sonne will be heere to night:I shall beseech your Lordship to remaine with mee, tillthey meete together.
Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what manners Imight safely be admitted.
Lad. You neede but pleade your honourable priuiledge.
Laf. Ladie, of that I haue made a bold charter, butI thanke my God, it holds yet.
Enter Clowne.
Clo. O Madam, yonders my Lord your sonne witha patch of veluet on's face, whether there bee a scar vnder'tor no, the Veluet knowes, but 'tis a goodly patchof Veluet, his left cheeke is a cheeke of two pile and ahalfe, 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 seeyour sonne I pray you, I long to talkeWith the yong noble souldier.
Clowne. 'Faith there's a dozen of em, with delicatefine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow theExeunthead, and nod at euerie man.