Act IV, Scene 3

The Florentine camp.

[Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers]

• First Lord. You have not given him his mother's letter?

• Second Lord. I have delivered it an hour since: there is
  something in't that stings his nature; for on the 2095
  reading it he changed almost into another man.

• First Lord. He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking
  off so good a wife and so sweet a lady.

• Second Lord. Especially he hath incurred the everlasting
  displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his 2100
  bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a
  thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you.

• First Lord. When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the
  grave of it.

• Second Lord. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in 2105
  Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he
  fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath
  given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself
  made in the unchaste composition.

• First Lord. Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, 2110
  what things are we!

• Second Lord. Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course
  of all treasons, we still see them reveal
  themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends,
  so he that in this action contrives against his own 2115
  nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself.

• First Lord. Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of
  our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his
  company to-night?

• Second Lord. Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. 2120

• First Lord. That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see
  his company anatomized, that he might take a measure
  of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had
  set this counterfeit.

• Second Lord. We will not meddle with him till he come; for his 2125
  presence must be the whip of the other.

• First Lord. In the mean time, what hear you of these wars?

• Second Lord. I hear there is an overture of peace.

• First Lord. Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.

• Second Lord. What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel 2130
  higher, or return again into France?

• First Lord. I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether
  of his council.

• Second Lord. Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal
  of his act. 2135

• First Lord. Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his
  house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques
  le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere
  sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the
  tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her 2140
  grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and
  now she sings in heaven.

• Second Lord. How is this justified?

• First Lord. The stronger part of it by her own letters, which
  makes her story true, even to the point of her 2145
  death: her death itself, which could not be her
  office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by
  the rector of the place.

• Second Lord. Hath the count all this intelligence?

• First Lord. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from 2150
  point, so to the full arming of the verity.

• Second Lord. I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this.

• First Lord. How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses!

• Second Lord. And how mightily some other times we drown our gain
  in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath 2155
  here acquired for him shall at home be encountered
  with a shame as ample.

• First Lord. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and
  ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our
  faults whipped them not; and our crimes would 2160
  despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues.
  [Enter a Messenger]
  How now! where's your master?

• Servant. He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath
  taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next 2165
  morning for France. The duke hath offered him
  letters of commendations to the king.

• Second Lord. They shall be no more than needful there, if they
  were more than they can commend.

• First Lord. They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. 2170
  Here's his lordship now.
  [Enter BERTRAM]
  How now, my lord! is't not after midnight?

• Bertram. I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a
  month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: 2175
  I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his
  nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my
  lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy;
  and between these main parcels of dispatch effected
  many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but 2180
  that I have not ended yet.

• Second Lord. If the business be of any difficulty, and this
  morning your departure hence, it requires haste of
  your lordship.

• Bertram. I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to 2185
  hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this
  dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come,
  bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived
  me, like a double-meaning prophesier.

• Second Lord. Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, 2190
  poor gallant knave.

• Bertram. No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping
  his spurs so long. How does he carry himself?

• Second Lord. I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry
  him. But to answer you as you would be understood; 2195
  he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he
  hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes
  to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to
  this very instant disaster of his setting i' the
  stocks: and what think you he hath confessed? 2200

• Bertram. Nothing of me, has a'?

• Second Lord. His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his
  face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you
  are, you must have the patience to hear it.

[Enter PAROLLES guarded, and First Soldier]

• Bertram. A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of
  me: hush, hush!

• First Lord. Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa

• First Soldier. He calls for the tortures: what will you say
  without 'em? 2210

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

• First Soldier. Bosko chimurcho.

• First Lord. Boblibindo chicurmurco.

• First Soldier. You are a merciful general. Our general bids you 2215
  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 2220
  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. 2225

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

• First Lord. You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur
  Parolles, the gallant militarist,—that was his own
  phrase,—that had the whole theoric of war in the
  knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of 2230
  his dagger.

• Second Lord. I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword
  clean. nor believe he can have every thing in him
  by wearing his apparel neatly.

• First Soldier. Well, that's set down. 2235

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

• First Lord. He's very near the truth in this.

• Bertram. But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he
  delivers it. 2240

• 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 2245
  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, 2250
  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 2255
  their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces.

• Bertram. What shall be done to him?

• First Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my
  condition, and what credit I have with the duke.

• First Soldier. Well, that's set down. 2260
  [Reads]
  '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 2265
  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. 2270

• 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. 2275

• Bertram. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know
  his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.

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

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

• First Lord. Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your 2280
  lordship anon.

• 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. 2285

• 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? 2290

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

• Bertram. Our interpreter does it well.

• First Lord. Excellently.

• 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 2295
  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. 2300

• 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.

• Bertram. Damnable both-sides rogue! 2305

• First Soldier. [Reads] 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;
  After he scores, he never pays the score:
  Half won is match well made; match, and well make it;
  He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before;
  And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this, 2310
  Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss:
  For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it,
  Who pays before, but not when he does owe it.
  Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear,
  PAROLLES.' 2315

• Bertram. He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme
  in's forehead.

• Second Lord. This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold
  linguist and the armipotent soldier.

• Bertram. I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now 2320
  he's a cat to me.

• 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 2325
  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 2330
  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 2335
  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 2340
  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 Lord. I begin to love him for this.

• Bertram. For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon 2345
  him for me, he's more and more a cat.

• 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 2350
  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 Lord. He hath out-villained villany so far, that the 2355
  rarity redeems him.

• Bertram. A pox on him, he's a cat still.

• 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 2360
  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 his brother, the other Captain Dumain?

• Second Lord. Why does be ask him of me? 2365

• 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: 2370
  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. 2375

• 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 2380
  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 2385
  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 Lord. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends.
  [Unblinding him] 2390
  So, look about you: know you any here?

• Bertram. Good morrow, noble captain.

• Second Lord. God bless you, Captain Parolles.

• First Lord. God save you, noble captain.

• Second Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? 2395
  I am for France.

• First Lord. Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet
  you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon?
  an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you:
  but fare you well. 2400

[Exeunt BERTRAM and Lords]

• 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?

• First Soldier. If you could find out a country where but women were 2405
  that had received so much shame, you might begin an
  impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France
  too: we shall speak of you there.

[Exit with Soldiers]

• Parolles. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, 2410
  '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 2415
  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. 2420

[Exit]