1 Ld. I have told your Lordship already: The Stocks carry him. But to answer you as you would be underftood, he weeps like a Wench that had fhed her Milk, he hath confeft himself to Morgan, whom he fuppofes to be a Friar, from the time of his very Remembrance to this very inftant Difafter of his fetting i'th' Stocks; and what think you he hath confeft?

་

Ber. Nothing of me, has a?

2 Ld. His Confeffion is taken, and it fhall be read to his Face; if your Lordship be in't, as I believe you are, you muft have the Patience to hear it,

Enter Parolles with his Interpreter.

Ber. A Plague upon him, muffled! he can fay nothing of me; hufh.

1 Ld. Hoodman comes: Portotartaroffa.

Int. He calls for the Tortures; what, will you fay without 'em?

Par. I will confefs what I know, without constraint; If ye pinch me like a Pafty, I can fay no more.

Int. Bosko Chimurcho.

I Ld. Biblibindo Chicurmurco.

Int. You are a merciful General: Our General bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a Note.

Par. And truly, as I hope to live.

Int. Firft demand of him, how many Horse the Duke is ftrong. What fay you to that?

Par. Five or fix Thousand, but very weak and unferviceable; the Troops are all fcatter'd, and the Commanders very poor Rogues, upon my Reputation and Credit, and as I hope to live.

Int. Shall I fet down your Anfwer fo?

Par. Do, I'll take the Sacrament on't, how and which way you will: All's one to me.

Ber. What a paft-faving Slave is this?

1 Ld. Y'are deceiv'd, my Lord, this is Monfieur Parolles, the gallant Militarift, that was his own Phrafe, that had the whole Theory of War in the Knot of his Scarf, and the Practice in the Chap of his Dagger.

2 Ld. I will never truft a Man again for keeping his Sword clean, nor believe he can have every thing in him, by wearing his Apparel neatly.

Int. Well, that's fet down.

Par. Five or fix thousand Horfe I faid, I will fay true, or thereabouts fet down, for I'll fpeak truth.

I Ld. He's very near the truth in this.

Ber. But I con him no thanks for't in the Nature he delivers it.

Par. Poor Rogues, I pray you fay.

Int. Well, that's fet down.

Par. I humbly thank you, Sir, a Truth's a Truth, the Rogues are marvellous poor.

Int. Demand of him of what Strength they are a Foot. What fay you to that?

Par. By my Troth, Sir, if I were to live this present Hour I will tell true. Let me fee, Spurio a hundred and fifty, Sebastian fo many, Corambus fo many, Jaques fo many; Guiltian, Cofmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred each; mine own Company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and fifty each, fo that the Mufter-file, rotten and found, upon my Life amounts not to fifteen thousand Pole, half of the which dare not shake the Snow from off their Coffacks, left they fhake themfelves to Pieces.

Ber. What fhall be done to him?

I

1 Ld. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my Conditions, and what Credit I have with the Duke.

Int. Well, that's fet down. You fhall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain be i'th' Camp, a Frenchman; what his Reputation is with the Duke, what his Valour, Honefty, and Expertnefs in War; or whether he thinks it were not poffible with well weighing Sums of Gold to corrupt him to revolt. What fay you to this? What do you know of it?

Par. I beseech you let me anfwer to the particular of the Interrogatories. Demand them fingly.

Int. Do you know Captain Dumain?

Par. I know him, he was a Botcher's Prentice in Paris, from whence he was whipt for getting the Sheriff's Fool with Child, dumb Innocent, that could not fay him nay. Ber. Nay, by your leave hold your Hands, tho' I know his Brains are forfeit to the next Tile that falls.

Int. Well, is this Captain in the Duke of Florence's Camp?

Par.

Par. Upon my Knowledge he is, and lowfie.

I Ld. Nay, look not fo upon me, we fhall hear of Lord anon.

Int. What is his Reputation with the Duke?

you

Par. The Duke knows him for no other, but a poor Officer of mine, and writ to me the other Day to turn him out o'th' Band. I think I have his Letter in my Pocket.

Int. Marry we'll fearch.

Par. 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.

Int. Here 'tis, here's a Paper, fhall I read it to you?
Par. I do not know if it be it or no.

Ber. Our Interpreter do's it well.

1 Ld. Excellently.

Int. Dian, the Count's a Fool, and full of Gold.

Par. 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 Roffillion, a foolish idle Boy, but for all that very ruttifh. I pray you, Sir, put it up again.

Int. Nay, I'll read it firft, by your favour.

Par. My meaning in't, I proteft, was very honeft in the behalf of the Maid; for I knew the young Count to be a dangerous and lafcivious Boy, who is a Whale to Virginity, and devours up all the Fry it finds. Ber. Damnable! both fides Rogue.

Inter. Reads the Letter.

When he wears Oaths, bid him drop Gold, and take it.
After he fcores, 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 fay a Soldier (Dian) told thee this:
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 vow'd to thee in thine Ear,

PAROLLES.

Ber.

Ber. He fhall be whipt through the Army with this Rime in his Forehead.

2 Ld. This is your devoted Friend, Sir, the manifold Linguift, and the Army-potent Soldier.

Ber. I could endure any thing before, but a Cat, and he's a Cat to me.

Int. I perceive, Sir, by the General's Looks, we shall be fain to hang you.

Par. My Life, Sir, in any cafe; 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'th' Stocks, any where, fo I may live.

Int. We'll fee what may be done, fo you confefs freely; therefore once more to this Captain Dumain: You have anfwer'd to his Reputation with the Duke, and to his Valour. What is his Honefty?

Par. He will fteal, Sir, an Egg out of a Cloifter: For Rapes and Ravishments he parallels Neffus. He profeffes not keeping of Oaths; breaking them he is ftronger than Hercules. He will lie, Sir, with fuch 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, fave to his Bed-cloaths about him; but they know his Conditions, and lay him in Straw. I have but little more to fay, Sir, of his Honefty, he has every thing that an honeft Man fhould not have; what an honeft Man fhould have, he has nothing.

I Ld. I begin to love him for this.

Ber. For this Defcription of thing Honefty? A Pox upon him for me, he's more and more a Cat.

Int. What fay you to his Expertness in War.

Par. Faith, Sir, h'as 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 call'd Mile-end, to inftruct for the doubling of Files. I would do the Man what Honour I can, but of this I am not certain.

I Ld. He hath out-villan'd Villany fo far, that the Rarity redeems him.

Ber. A Pox on him, he's a Cat ftill.

Int. His Qualities being at this poor Price, I need not to ask you, if Gold will corrupt him to revolt.

Par.

Par. Sir, for a Cardecue he will fell the Fee-fimple of his Salvation, the Inheritance of it, and cut th' Intail from all Remainders, and perpetual Succeffion for it perpetually.

Int. What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain? 2 Ld. Why do's he ask him of me?

Int. What's he?

Par. E'en a Crow o'th' fame Neft; not altogether fo great as the first in Goodness, but greater a great deal in Evil. He excells his Brother for a Coward, yet his Brother is reputed one of the best that is. In a Retreat he out-runs any Lackey; marry in coming on he has the Cramp.

Int. If your Life be faved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine?

Par. Ay, and the Captain of his Horfe, Count Roffillion. Int. I'll whisper with the General, and know his Pleafure.

Par. I'll no more drumming, a Plague of all Drums, only to feem to deserve well, and to beguile the Suppofition of that lafcivious young Boy the Count, have I run into Danger; yet who would have fuspected an Ambush where I was taken?

Int. There is no Remedy, Sir, but you must die; the General fays, you that have fo traiterously discovered the Secrets of your Army, and made fuch peftiferous Reports of Men very nobly held, can ferve the World for no ho neft Use; therefore you muft die. Come, Heads-man, off with his Head.

Par. O Lord, Sir, let me live, or let me fee my Death.
Int. That fhall you, and take your leave of all your
Friends:
[Unblinding him.

So look about you; know you any here?
Count. Good Morrow, noble Captain.
2 Ld. God bless you, Captain Parolles.
I 1 Ld. God fave you, noble Captain.

2 Ld. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? I am for France.

1 Ld. Good Captain, will you give me a Copy of that fame Sonnet you writ to Diana in Behalf of the Count Roffillion, and I were not a very Coward, I'd compel it of you; but fare you well.

[Exeunt.

Int.