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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

Page 337

by William Shakespeare


  PAROLES I love not many words. Exit

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE No more than a fish loves water. (To Bertram) Is not this a strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems to undertake this business, which he knows is not to be done? Damns himself to do, and dares better be damned than to do’t.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE (to Bertram) You do not know him, my lord, as we do. Certain it is that he will steal himself into a man’s favour, and for a week escape a great deal of discoveries, but when you find him out, you have him ever after.

  BERTRAM) Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of this that so seriously he does address himself unto?

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE None in the world, but return with an invention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies. But we have almost embosked him. You shall see his fall tonight; for indeed he is not for your lordship’s respect.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE (to Bertram) We’ll make you some sport with the fox ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old Lord Lafeu. When his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him, which you shall see this very night. 106

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE

  I must go look my twigs. He shall be caught.

  BERTRAM

  Your brother, he shall go along with me.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE As’t please your lordship. I’ll leave you. Exit

  BERTRAM

  Now will I lead you to the house, and show you 111

  The lass I spoke of.

  ⌈FIRST⌉ LORD DUMAINE But you say she’s honest.

  BERTRAM

  That’s all the fault. I spoke with her but once

  And found her wondrous cold, but I sent to her

  By this same coxcomb that we have i’th’ wind 115

  Tokens and letters, which she did re-send,

  And this is all I have done. She’s a fair creature.

  Will you go see her?

  ⌈FIRST⌉ LORD DUMAINE With all my heart, my lord.

  Exeunt

  3.7 Enter Helen and the Widow

  HELEN

  If you misdoubt me that I am not she,

  I know not how I shall assure you further

  But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.

  WIDOW

  Though my estate be fall’n, I was well born,

  Nothing acquainted with these businesses,

  And would not put my reputation now

  In any staining act.

  HELEN

  Nor would I wish you.

  First give me trust the Count he is my husband,

  And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken

  Is so from word to word, and then you cannot,

  By the good aid that I of you shall borrow,

  Err in bestowing it.

  WIDOW

  I should believe you,

  For you have showed me that which well approves

  You’re great in fortune.

  HELEN

  Take this purse of gold,

  And let me buy your friendly help thus far,

  Which I will over-pay, and pay again

  When I have found it. The Count he woos your

  daughter,

  Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,

  Resolved to carry her. Let her in fine consent,

  As we’ll direct her how ‘tis best to bear it.

  Now his important blood will naught deny

  That she’ll demand. A ring the County wears,

  That downward hath succeeded in his house

  From son to son some four or five descents

  Since the first father wore it. This ring he holds

  In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire

  To buy his will it would not seem too dear,

  Howe’er repented after.

  WIDOW

  Now I see the bottom of your purpose.

  HELEN

  You see it lawful then. It is no more

  But that your daughter ere she seems as won

  Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter;

  In fine, delivers me to fill the time,

  Herself most chastely absent. After,

  To marry her I’ll add three thousand crowns

  To what is passed already.

  WIDOW

  I have yielded.

  Instruct my daughter how she shall persever,

  That time and place with this deceit so lawful

  May prove coherent. Every night he comes

  With musics of all sorts, and songs composed

  To her unworthiness. It nothing steads us

  To chide him from our eaves, for he persists

  As if his life lay on’t.

  HELEN

  Why then tonight

  Let us essay our plot, which if it speed

  Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed

  And lawful meaning in a wicked act,

  Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact.

  But let’s about it. Exeunt

  4.1 Enter ⌈Second Lord Dumaine⌉, with five or six other soldiers, in ambush

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE He can come no other way but by this hedge corner. When you sally upon him, speak what terrible language you will. Though you understand it not yourselves, no matter, for we must not seem to understand him, unless some one among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter. 6

  INTERPRETER Good captain, let me be th’interpreter.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not thy voice?

  INTERPRETER No, sir, I warrant you.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again?

  INTERPRETER E’en such as you speak to me.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE He must think us some band of strangers i’th’ adversary’s entertainment. Now he hath a smack of all neighbouring languages, therefore we must every one be a man of his own fancy. Not to know what we speak one to another, so we seem to know, is to know straight our purpose: choughs’ language, gabble enough and good enough. As for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! Here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges.

  They hide. Enter Paroles. ⌈Clock strikes⌉

  PAROLES 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. 31

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE (aside) This is the first truth that e’er thine own tongue was guilty of.

  PAROLES 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 mute, if you prattle me into these perils.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE (aside) Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?

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

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE (aside) We cannot afford you so.

  PAROLES Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in stratagem.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE (aside) ’Twould not do.

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

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE (aside) Hardly serve.

  PAROLES Though I swore I leapt from the window of the citadel? 55 ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE (aside) How deep?

  PAROLES Thirty fathom.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE (aside) Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed.

  PAROLES I would I had
any drum of the enemy’s. I would swear I recovered it.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE (aside) You shall hear one anon.

  PAROLES A drum now of the enemy’s—Alarum within. ⌈The ambush rushes forth⌉

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.

  ⌈SOLDIERS⌉ (severally) Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.

  ⌈They seize and blindfold him⌉

  PAROLES

  O ransom, ransom, do not hide mine eyes.

  INTERPRETER Boskos thromuldo boskos.

  PAROLES

  I know you are the Moscows 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.

  INTERPRETER Boskos vauvado.—

  I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue.—

  Kerelybonto.—Sir,

  Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards

  Are at thy bosom.

  PAROLES

  O!

  INTERPRETER

  O pray, pray, pray!—

  Manka revania dulche? 80

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE

  Oscorbidulchos volivorco.

  INTERPRETER

  The general is content to spare thee yet,

  And, hoodwinked as thou art, will lead thee on

  To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst inform

  Something to save thy life.

  PAROLES

  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.

  INTERPRETER

  But wilt thou faithfully?

  PAROLES

  If I do not, damn me.

  INTERPRETER

  Acordo linta.—

  Come on, thou art granted space. 90

  Exeunt all but ⌈Second⌉ Lord Dumaine and a Soldier

  A short alarum within

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE

  Go tell the Count Roussillon and my brother

  We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him

  muffled

  Till we do hear from them.

  SOLDIER

  Captain, I will.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE

  A will betray us all unto ourselves.

  Inform on that.

  SOLDIER

  So I will, sir.

  ⌈SECOND⌉ LORD DUMAINE

  Till then I’ll keep him dark and safely locked.

  Exeunt severally

  4.2 Enter Bertram and the maid called Diana

  BERTRAM

  They told me that your name was Fontibel.

  DIANA

  No, my good lord, Diana.

  BERTRAM

  Titled goddess,

  And worth it, with addition. But, fair soul,

  In your fine frame hath love no quality?

  If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,

  You are no maiden but a monument.

  When you are dead you should be such a one

  As you are now, for you are cold and stern,

  And now you should be as your mother was

  When your sweet self was got.

  DIANA She then was honest.

  BERTRAM So should you be.

  DIANA

  No.

  My mother did but duty; such, my lord,

  As you owe to your wife.

  BERTRAM)

  No more o’ that.

  I prithee do not strive against my vows.

  I was compelled to her, but I love thee

  By love’s own sweet constraint, and will for ever

  Do thee all rights of service.

  DIANA

  Ay, so you serve us

  Till we serve you. But when you have our roses,

  You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,

  And mock us with our bareness.

  BERTRAM)

  How have I sworn!

  DIANA

  ‘Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,

  But the plain single vow that is vowed true.

  What is not holy, that we swear not by,

  But take the high’st to witness; then pray you, tell me,

  If I should swear by Jove’s great attributes

  I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths

  When I did love you ill? This has no holding,

  To swear by him whom I protest to love

  That I will work against him. Therefore your oaths

  Are words and poor conditions but unsealed,

  At least in my opinion.

  BERTRAM)

  Change it, change it.

  Be not so holy-cruel. Love is holy,

  And my integrity ne’er knew the crafts

  That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,

  But give thyself unto my sick desires,

  Who then recovers. Say thou art mine, and ever

  My love as it begins shall so persever.

  DIANA

  I see that men make toys e’en such a surance

  That we’ll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.

  BERTRAM

  I’ll lend it thee, my dear, but have no power

  To give it from me.

  DIANA

  Will you not, my lord?

  BERTRAM

  It is an honour ‘longing to our house,

  Bequeathed down from many ancestors,

  Which were the greatest obloquy i’th’ world

  In me to lose.

  DIANA

  Mine honour’s such a ring.

  My chastity’s the jewel of our house,

  Bequeathed down from many ancestors,

  Which were the greatest obloquy i’th’ world

  In me to lose. Thus your own proper wisdom

  Brings in the champion Honour on my part

  Against your vain assault.

  BERTRAM)

  Here, take my ring.

  My house, mine honour, yea my life be thine,

  And I’ll be bid by thee.

  DIANA

  When midnight comes, knock at my chamber window.

  I’ll order take my mother shall not hear.

  Now will I charge you in the bond of truth,

  When you have conquered my yet maiden bed,

  Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me—

  My reasons are most strong, and you shall know them

  When back again this ring shall be delivered—

  And on your finger in the night I’ll put

  Another ring that, what in time proceeds,

  May token to the future our past deeds.

  Adieu till then; then, fail not. You have won

  A wife of me, though there my hope be done.

  BERTRAM

  A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.

  DIANA

  For which live long to thank both heaven and me.

  You may so in the end. ⌈Exit Bertram⌉

  My mother told me just how he would woo,

  As if she sat in’s heart. She says all men

  Have the like oaths. He had sworn to marry me

  When his wife’s dead; therefore I’ll lie with him

  When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,

  Marry that will; I live and die a maid.

  Only, in this disguise I think’t no sin

  To cozen him that would unjustly win. Exit

  4.3 Enter the two Captains Dumaine and some two or three soldiers

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE You have not given him his mother’s letter?

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE I have delivered it an hour since. There is something in’t that stings his nature, for on the reading it he changed almost into another man.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking off
so good a wife and so sweet a lady.

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE Especially he hath incurred the everlasting displeasure of the King, who had even tuned his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE When you have spoken it ’tis dead, and I am the grave of it.

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence of a most chaste renown, and this night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour. He hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE Now God delay our rebellion! As we are ourselves, what things are we.

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE 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 nobility, in his proper stream o’erflows himself.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company tonight?

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE Not till after midnight, for he is dieted to his hour.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE That approaches apace. I would gladly have him see his company anatomized, that he might take a measure of his own judgements, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit.

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE We will not meddle with him till he come, for his presence must be the whip of the other.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE In the mean time, what hear you of these wars?

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE I hear there is an overture of peace.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE What will Count Roussillon do then? Will he travel higher, or return again into France?

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE I perceive by this demand you are not altogether of his council.

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal of his act.

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE 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 grief: in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven.

  SECOND LORD DUMAINE How is this justified?

  FIRST LORD DUMAINE The stronger part of it by her own letters, which makes her story true even to the point of her death. Her death itself, which could not be her office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by the rector of the place.

 

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