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 whipt for getting the shrieve's fool with child-a
dumb
innocent that could not say him nay.
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.
SECOND LORD. Nay, look not so upon me; we shall hear of your
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' th' 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.
BERTRAM. Our
interpreter does it well.
SECOND 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
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
behalfof 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!
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:
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.'
BERTRAM. He shall be whipt through the army with this rhyme in's
forehead.
FIRST LORD. This is your
devoted friend, sir, the manifold
linguist, and the amnipotent soldier.
BERTRAM. I could
endure anything before but a cat, and now he's a
cat to me.
FIRST SOLDIER. I
perceive, sir, by our 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' th'
stocks, or
anywhere, 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 answer'd 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 bedclothes 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 everything
that an honest man should not have; what an honest man should
have he has nothing.
SECOND LORD. I begin to love him for this.
BERTRAM. For this
description of thine
honesty? A pox upon him! For
me, he's more and more a cat.
FIRST SOLDIER. What say you to his expertness in war?
PAROLLES. Faith, sir, has led the drum before the English
tragedians-to belie him I will not-and more of his soldier-ship
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.
SECOND LORD. He hath out-villain'd villainy so far that the 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 cardecue he will sell the fee-simple of his
salvation, the
inheritance of it; and cut th'
entail from all
remainders and a
perpetualsuccession for it
perpetually.
FIRST SOLDIER. What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain?
FIRST LORD. Why does he ask him of me?
FIRST SOLDIER. What's he?
PAROLLES. E'en a crow o' th' 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 discover'd 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, of with his head.
PAROLLES. O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death!
FIRST SOLDIER. That shall you, and take your leave of all your
friends. [Unmuffling him] So look about you; know you any here?
BERTRAM. Good
morrow, noble Captain.
FIRST LORD. God bless you, Captain Parolles.
SECOND LORD. God save you, noble Captain.
FIRST LORD. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? I am
for France.
SECOND 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'd compel it of you; but fare you well.
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 crush'd with a plot?
FIRST SOLDIER. If you could find out a country where but women were
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,
'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 fool'ry thrive.
There's place and means for every man alive.
I'll after them. Exit
ACT4|SC4
ACT IV SCENE 4.
The WIDOW'S house
Enter HELENA, WIDOW, and DIANA
HELENA. That you may well
perceive I have not wrong'd you!
One of the greatest in the Christian world
Shall be my surety; fore whose
throne 'tis needful,
Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel.
Time was I did him a desired office,
Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,
And answer 'Thanks.' I duly am inform'd
His Grace is at Marseilles, to which place
We have
convenient convoy. You must know
I am
supposed dead. The army breaking,
My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding,
And by the leave of my good lord the King,
We'll be before our welcome.
WIDOW. Gentle madam,
You never had a servant to whose trust
Your business was more welcome.
HELENA. Nor you, mistress,
Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour
To
recompense your love. Doubt not but heaven
Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
As it hath fated her to be my motive
And
helper to a husband. But, O strange men!
That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
When saucy
trusting of the cozen'd thoughts
Defiles the pitchy night. So lust doth play
With what it loathes, for that which is away.
But more of this
hereafter. You, Diana,
Under my poor
instructions yet must suffer
Something in my
behalf.
DIANA. Let death and
honestyGo with your impositions, I am yours
Upon your will to suffer.
HELENA. Yet, I pray you:
But with the word the time will bring on summer,
When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns
And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our
waggon is prepar'd, and time revives us.
All's Well that Ends Well. Still the fine's the crown.
Whate'er the course, the end is the
renown. Exeunt
ACT4|SC5
ACT IV SCENE 5.
Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace
Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and CLOWN
LAFEU. No, no, no, son was misled with a snipt-taffeta fellow
there, whose villainous saffron would have made all the unbak'd
and doughy youth of a nation in his colour. Your daughter-in-law
had been alive at this hour, and your son here at home, more
advanc'd by the King than by that red-tail'd humble-bee I speak
of.
COUNTESS. I would I had not known him. It was the death of the most
virtuous
gentlewoman that ever nature had praise for creating. If
she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a