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Speeches (Lines) for Parolles
in "All's Well That Ends Well"

Total: 141

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Helena. O, were that all! I think not on my father;
And these great tears grace his remembrance more
Than those I shed for him. What was he like?
I have forgot him: my imagination
Carries no favour in't but Bertram's.
I am undone: there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one
That I should love a bright particular star
And think to wed it, he is so above me:
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
The ambition in my love thus plagues itself:
The hind that would be mated by the lion
Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague,
To see him every hour; to sit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table; heart too capable
Of every line and trick of his sweet favour:
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here?
One that goes with him: I love him for his sake;
And yet I know him a notorious liar,
Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;
Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him,
That they take place, when virtue's steely bones
Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see
Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.

Parolles. Save you, fair queen!



Helena. And you, monarch!

Parolles. No.



Helena. And no.

Parolles. Are you meditating on virginity?



Helena. Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me
ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how
may we barricado it against him?

Parolles. Keep him out.



Helena. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant,
in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some
warlike resistance.

Parolles. There is none: man, sitting down before you, will
undermine you and blow you up.



Helena. Bless our poor virginity from underminers and
blowers up! Is there no military policy, how
virgins might blow up men?

Parolles. Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be
blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with
the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It
is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to
preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational
increase and there was never virgin got till
virginity was first lost. That you were made of is
metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost
may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is
ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't!



Helena. I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin.

Parolles. There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the
rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity,
is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible
disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin:
virginity murders itself and should be buried in
highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate
offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites,
much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very
paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach.
Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of
self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the
canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose
by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make
itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the
principal itself not much the worse: away with 't!



Helena. How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?

Parolles. Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it
likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with
lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't
while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request.
Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out
of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just
like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not
now. Your date is better in your pie and your
porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity,
your old virginity, is like one of our French
withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry,
'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better;
marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it?



Helena. Not my virginity yet [—]
There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother and a mistress and a friend,
A phoenix, captain and an enemy,
A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;
His humble ambition, proud humility,
His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he—
I know not what he shall. God send him well!
The court's a learning place, and he is one—

Parolles. What one, i' faith?



Helena. That I wish well. 'Tis pity—

Parolles. What's pity?



(stage directions). [Exit]

Parolles. Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I
will think of thee at court.



Helena. Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.

Parolles. Under Mars, I.



Helena. I especially think, under Mars.

Parolles. Why under Mars?



Helena. The wars have so kept you under that you must needs
be born under Mars.

Parolles. When he was predominant.



Helena. When he was retrograde, I think, rather.

Parolles. Why think you so?



Helena. You go so much backward when you fight.

Parolles. That's for advantage.



Helena. So is running away, when fear proposes the safety;
but the composition that your valour and fear makes
in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.

Parolles. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee
acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the
which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize
thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's
counsel and understand what advice shall thrust upon
thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and
thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When
thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast
none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband,
and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell.



First Lord. O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!

Parolles. 'Tis not his fault, the spark.



Second Lord. O, 'tis brave wars!

Parolles. Most admirable: I have seen those wars.



Bertram. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with
'Too young' and 'the next year' and 'tis too early.'

Parolles. An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely.



First Lord. There's honour in the theft.

Parolles. Commit it, count.



Second Lord. Sweet Monsieur Parolles!

Parolles. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good
sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall
find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain
Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here
on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword
entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his
reports for me.



(stage directions). [Exeunt Lords]

Parolles. Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do?



(stage directions). [Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire]

Parolles. [To BERTRAM] Use a more spacious ceremony to the
noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the
list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to
them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the
time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and
move under the influence of the most received star;
and though the devil lead the measure, such are to
be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell.



Bertram. And I will do so.

Parolles. Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men.



Lafeu. They say miracles are past; and we have our
philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar,
things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that
we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves
into seeming knowledge, when we should submit
ourselves to an unknown fear.

Parolles. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath
shot out in our latter times.



Lafeu. To be relinquish'd of the artists,—

Parolles. So I say.



Lafeu. Both of Galen and Paracelsus.

Parolles. So I say.



Lafeu. Of all the learned and authentic fellows,—

Parolles. Right; so I say.



Lafeu. That gave him out incurable,—

Parolles. Why, there 'tis; so say I too.



Lafeu. Not to be helped,—

Parolles. Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a—



Lafeu. Uncertain life, and sure death.

Parolles. Just, you say well; so would I have said.



Lafeu. I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.

Parolles. It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you
shall read it in—what do you call there?



Lafeu. A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.

Parolles. That's it; I would have said the very same.



Lafeu. Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me,
I speak in respect—

Parolles. Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the
brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most
facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the—



Lafeu. Very hand of heaven.

Parolles. Ay, so I say.



Lafeu. In a most weak—
and debile minister, great power, great
transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a
further use to be made than alone the recovery of
the king, as to be—
generally thankful.

Parolles. I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.
[Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and]
PAROLLES retire]



Lafeu. Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the
better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's
able to lead her a coranto.

Parolles. Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen?



Lafeu. [Advancing] Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you.

Parolles. Your pleasure, sir?



Lafeu. Your lord and master did well to make his

Parolles. Recantation! My lord! my master!



Lafeu. Ay; is it not a language I speak?

Parolles. A most harsh one, and not to be understood without
bloody succeeding. My master!



Lafeu. Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?

Parolles. To any count, to all counts, to what is man.



Lafeu. To what is count's man: count's master is of
another style.

Parolles. You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old.



Lafeu. I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which
title age cannot bring thee.

Parolles. What I dare too well do, I dare not do.



Lafeu. I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty
wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy
travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs and the
bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from
believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I
have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care
not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and
that thou't scarce worth.

Parolles. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,—



Lafeu. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou
hasten thy trial; which if—Lord have mercy on thee
for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee
well: thy casement I need not open, for I look
through thee. Give me thy hand.

Parolles. My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.



Lafeu. Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.

Parolles. I have not, my lord, deserved it.



Lafeu. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not
bate thee a scruple.

Parolles. Well, I shall be wiser.



Lafeu. Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at
a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound
in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is
to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold
my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge,
that I may say in the default, he is a man I know.

Parolles. My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.



(stage directions). [Exit]

Parolles. Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off
me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must
be patient; there is no fettering of authority.
I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with
any convenience, an he were double and double a
lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I
would of—I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again.



Lafeu. Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news
for you: you have a new mistress.

Parolles. I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make
some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good
lord: whom I serve above is my master.



Lafeu. Who? God?

Parolles. Ay, sir.



Lafeu. The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou
garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of
sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set
thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine
honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat
thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and
every man should beat thee: I think thou wast
created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.

Parolles. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.



(stage directions). [Exit]

Parolles. Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good;
let it be concealed awhile.



Bertram. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!

Parolles. What's the matter, sweet-heart?



Bertram. Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,
I will not bed her.

Parolles. What, what, sweet-heart?



Bertram. O my Parolles, they have married me!
I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.

Parolles. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!



Bertram. There's letters from my mother: what the import is,
I know not yet.

Parolles. Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars!
He wears his honour in a box unseen,
That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home,
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions
France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades;
Therefore, to the war!



Bertram. It shall be so: I'll send her to my house,
Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
And wherefore I am fled; write to the king
That which I durst not speak; his present gift
Shall furnish me to those Italian fields,
Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife
To the dark house and the detested wife.

Parolles. Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure?



Bertram. Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.
I'll send her straight away: to-morrow
I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.

Parolles. Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard:
A young man married is a man that's marr'd:
Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go:
The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so.



(stage directions). [Enter PAROLLES]

Parolles. Bless you, my fortunate lady!



Helena. I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own
good fortunes.

Parolles. You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them
on, have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady?



Clown. So that you had her wrinkles and I her money,
I would she did as you say.

Parolles. Why, I say nothing.



Clown. Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's
tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say
nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have
nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which
is within a very little of nothing.

Parolles. Away! thou'rt a knave.



Clown. You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a
knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had
been truth, sir.

Parolles. Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee.



Clown. Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you
taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable;
and much fool may you find in you, even to the
world's pleasure and the increase of laughter.

Parolles. A good knave, i' faith, and well fed.
Madam, my lord will go away to-night;
A very serious business calls on him.
The great prerogative and rite of love,
Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge;
But puts it off to a compell'd restraint;
Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets,
Which they distil now in the curbed time,
To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy
And pleasure drown the brim.



Helena. What's his will else?

Parolles. That you will take your instant leave o' the king
And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
Strengthen'd with what apology you think
May make it probable need.



Helena. What more commands he?

Parolles. That, having this obtain'd, you presently
Attend his further pleasure.



Helena. In every thing I wait upon his will.

Parolles. I shall report it so.



(stage directions). [Enter PAROLLES]

Parolles. [To BERTRAM] These things shall be done, sir.



Lafeu. Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?

Parolles. Sir?



Bertram. [Aside to PAROLLES] Is she gone to the king?

Parolles. She is.



Bertram. Will she away to-night?

Parolles. As you'll have her.



Bertram. Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur?

Parolles. I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's



(stage directions). [Exit]

Parolles. An idle lord. I swear.



Bertram. I think so.

Parolles. Why, do you not know him?



Bertram. Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell.
Go thou toward home; where I will never come
Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.
Away, and for our flight.

Parolles. Bravely, coragio!



Helena. Perchance he's hurt i' the battle.

Parolles. Lose our drum! well.



First Lord. A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum.

Parolles. 'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost!
There was excellent command,—to charge in with our
horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers!



Bertram. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some
dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is
not to be recovered.

Parolles. It might have been recovered.



Bertram. It might; but it is not now.

Parolles. It is to be recovered: but that the merit of
service is seldom attributed to the true and exact
performer, I would have that drum or another, or
'hic jacet.'



Bertram. Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you
think your mystery in stratagem can bring this
instrument of honour again into his native quarter,
be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will
grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you
speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it.
and extend to you what further becomes his
greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your

Parolles. By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it.



Bertram. But you must not now slumber in it.

Parolles. I'll about it this evening: and I will presently
pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my
certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation;
and by midnight look to hear further from me.



Bertram. May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it?

Parolles. I know not what the success will be, my lord; but
the attempt I vow.



Bertram. I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of
thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell.

Parolles. I love not many words.



(stage directions). [Enter PAROLLES]

Parolles. Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be
time enough to go home. What shall I say I have
done? It must be a very plausive invention that
carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces
have of late knocked too often at my door. I find
my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the
fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not
daring the reports of my tongue.



Second Lord. This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue
was guilty of.

Parolles. What the devil should move me to undertake the
recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the
impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I
must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in
exploit: yet slight ones will not carry it; they
will say, 'Came you off with so little?' and great
ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the
instance? Tongue, I must put you into a
butter-woman's mouth and buy myself another of
Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils.



Second Lord. Is it possible he should know what he is, and be
that he is?

Parolles. I would the cutting of my garments would serve the
turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.



Second Lord. We cannot afford you so.

Parolles. Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in



Second Lord. 'Twould not do.

Parolles. Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.



Second Lord. Hardly serve.

Parolles. Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel.



Second Lord. How deep?

Parolles. Thirty fathom.



Second Lord. Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed.

Parolles. I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear
I recovered it.



Second Lord. You shall hear one anon.

Parolles. A drum now of the enemy's,—



All. Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo.

Parolles. O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes.



First Soldier. Boskos thromuldo boskos.

Parolles. I know you are the Muskos' regiment:
And I shall lose my life for want of language;
If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch,
Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll
Discover that which shall undo the Florentine.



First Soldier. Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak
thy tongue. Kerely bonto, sir, betake thee to thy
faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom.

Parolles. O!



First Soldier. The general is content to spare thee yet;
And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on
To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform
Something to save thy life.

Parolles. O, let me live!
And all the secrets of our camp I'll show,
Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that
Which you will wonder at.



First Soldier. But wilt thou faithfully?

Parolles. If I do not, damn me.



First Soldier. He calls for the tortures: what will you say
without 'em?

Parolles. I will confess what I know without constraint: if
ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.



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. [Reads] '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 will.



First Soldier. Well, that's set down.

Parolles. Five or six thousand horse, I said,— I will say
true,—or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth.



Bertram. But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he
delivers it.

Parolles. Poor rogues, I pray you, say.



First Soldier. Well, that's set down.

Parolles. I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the
rogues are marvellous poor.



First Soldier. [Reads] 'Demand of him, of what strength they are
a-foot.' What say you to that?

Parolles. By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present
hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a
hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so
many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick,
and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own
company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and
fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and
sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand
poll; half of the which dare not shake snow from off
their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces.



First Soldier. Well, that's set down.
'You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain
be i' the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is
with the duke; what his valour, honesty, and
expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not
possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to
corrupt him to revolt.' What say you to this? what
do you know of it?

Parolles. I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of
the inter'gatories: demand them singly.



First Soldier. Do you know this Captain Dumain?

Parolles. I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris,
from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's
fool with child,—a dumb innocent, that could not
say him nay.



First Soldier. Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp?

Parolles. Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.



First Soldier. What is his reputation with the duke?

Parolles. The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer
of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him
out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket.



First Soldier. Marry, we'll search.

Parolles. In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there,
or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters
in my tent.



First Soldier. Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you?

Parolles. I do not know if it be it or no.



First Soldier. [Reads] 'Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'—

Parolles. That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an
advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one
Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count
Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very
ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again.



First Soldier. Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour.

Parolles. My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the
behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be
a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to
virginity and devours up all the fry it finds.



First Soldier. I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be
fain to hang you.

Parolles. My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to
die; but that, my offences being many, I would
repent out the remainder of nature: let me live,
sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live.



First Soldier. We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely;
therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you
have answered to his reputation with the duke and to
his valour: what is his honesty?

Parolles. He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for
rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he
professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he
is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with
such volubility, that you would think truth were a
fool: drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will
be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little
harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they
know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but
little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has
every thing that an honest man should not have; what
an honest man should have, he has nothing.



First Soldier. What say you to his expertness in war?

Parolles. Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English
tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of
his soldiership 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 do the man what honour I can, but of
this I am not certain.



First Soldier. His qualities being at this poor price, I need not
to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt.

Parolles. Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple
of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the
entail from all remainders, and a perpetual
succession for it perpetually.



First Soldier. What's he?

Parolles. E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so
great as the first in goodness, but greater a great
deal in evil: he excels his brother for a coward,
yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is:
in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming
on he has the cramp.



First Soldier. If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray
the Florentine?

Parolles. Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon.



First Soldier. I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure.

Parolles. [Aside] I'll no more drumming; a plague of all
drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to
beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy
the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who
would have suspected an ambush where I was taken?



First Soldier. There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the
general says, you that have so traitorously
discovered the secrets of your army and made such
pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can
serve the world for no honest use; therefore you
must die. Come, headsman, off with his head.

Parolles. O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death!



First Soldier. You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that
has a knot on't yet

Parolles. Who cannot be crushed with a plot?



(stage directions). [Exit with Soldiers]

Parolles. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,
'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more;
But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft
As captain shall: simply the thing I am
Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,
Let him fear this, for it will come to pass
that every braggart shall be found an ass.
Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live
Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive!
There's place and means for every man alive.
I'll after them.



(stage directions). [Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following]

Parolles. Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this
letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to
you, when I have held familiarity with fresher
clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's
mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong



Clown. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it
smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will
henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering.
Prithee, allow the wind.

Parolles. Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake
but by a metaphor.



Clown. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my
nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get
thee further.

Parolles. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.



(stage directions). [Exit]

Parolles. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly



Lafeu. And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to
pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the
knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who
of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves
thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for
you: let the justices make you and fortune friends:
I am for other business.

Parolles. I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.



Lafeu. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't;
save your word.

Parolles. My name, my good lord, is Parolles.



Lafeu. You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion!
give me your hand. How does your drum?

Parolles. O my good lord, you were the first that found me!



Lafeu. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.

Parolles. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace,
for you did bring me out.



Lafeu. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once
both the office of God and the devil? One brings
thee in grace and the other brings thee out.
[Trumpets sound]
The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah,
inquire further after me; I had talk of you last
night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall
eat; go to, follow.

Parolles. I praise God for you.



King of France. Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you,
Not fearing the displeasure of your master,
Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off,
By him and by this woman here what know you?

Parolles. So please your majesty, my master hath been an
honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him,
which gentlemen have.



King of France. Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman?

Parolles. Faith, sir, he did love her; but how?



King of France. How, I pray you?

Parolles. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman.



King of France. How is that?

Parolles. He loved her, sir, and loved her not.



King of France. As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an
equivocal companion is this!

Parolles. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.



Diana. Do you know he promised me marriage?

Parolles. Faith, I know more than I'll speak.



King of France. But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest?

Parolles. Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them,
as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for
indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and
of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I
was in that credit with them at that time that I
knew of their going to bed, and of other motions,
as promising her marriage, and things which would
derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not
speak what I know.

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