Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact:
But let's about it.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Without the Florentine Camp.

Enter first French Lord, with five or six Soldiers in ambush,

1 Lord. 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.

1 Sold. Good captain, let me be the interpreter.

1 Lord. Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? 1 Sold. No, Sir, I warrant you.

1 Lord. But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again? 1 Sold. Even such as you speak to me.

1 Lord. He must think us some band of strangers i' the 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: chough's 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.

Enter PAROLles.

Par. 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 fool-hardy; but my heart hath the fear of Mars before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of my tongue.

1 Lord. [Aside.] This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue was guilty of.

Par. 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.

1 Lord. [Aside.] Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is?

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

1 Lord. [Aside.] We cannot afford you so.

Par. Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in stratagem. 1 Lord. [Aside.] 'Twould not do.

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

1 Lord. [Aside.] Hardly serve.

Par. Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel1 Lord. [Aside] How deep?

Par. Thirty fathom.

1 Lord. [Aside.] Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed.

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

1 Lord. [Aside.] You shall hear one anon.
Par. A drum, now, of the enemy's!

I Lord. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.
All. Cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.

[Alarum within.

[They seize and blindfold him. Par. O, ransom, ransom !-Do not hide mine eyes.' 1 Sold. Boskos thromuldo boskos.

Par. 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 will discover that which shall undo

The Florentine.

I Sold.

Par.

I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue :-
Kerelybonto:-Sir,

Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards
Are at thy bosom.

I Sold.

Manka revania dulche.

O!

O, pray, pray, pray !—

Oscorbi dulchos volivorco.

I Lord.
1 Sold. 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.

And all the secrets of our camp I'll show,

Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that

[Exit, with PAROLLES guarded.

1 Lord. Go, tell the count Rousillon, and my brother, We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled Till we do hear from them.

2 Sold.

Captain, I will..

1 Lord. He will betray us all unto ourselves :Inform on that.

1 Lord. Till then, I'll keep him dark, and safely lock'd.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-FLORENCE. A Room in the Widow's House.

Enter BERTRAM and DIANA.

Ber. They told me that your name was Fontibell.

Dia. No, my good lord, Diana.

Ber.

And worth it, with addition!

Titled goddess!

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.

Dia. She then was honest.

I pr'ythee, do not strive against my vows:

I was compell'd to her; but I love thee

By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever
Do thee all rights of service.

Dia.

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.

Ber.

How have I sworn!

Dia. 'Tis not the many oaths that make the truth,

But the plain single vow, that is vow'd true.

What is not holy, that we swear not by,

But take the Highest to witness: then, pray you, tell me,

If I should swear by Jove's great attributes,

I lov'd 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 unseal'd,—
At least, in my opinion.

Ber.

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 recover: say thou art mine, and ever

My love, as it begins, shall so perséver.

Dia. I see that men make hopes, in such a case,
That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.
Ber. I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power
To give it from me.

Dia.

Will you not, my lord? Ber. It is an honour 'longing to our house, Bequeathed down from many ancestors; Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world In me to lose.

Dia.

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' the world In me to lose thus your own proper wisdom Brings in the champion, honour, on my part, Against your vain assault.

Ber.

Here, take my ring:

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

And I'll be bid by thee.

Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window:

I'll order take my mother shall not hear.

Now will I charge you in the band of truth,

When you have conquer'd 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 deliver'd :
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.

Ber. A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.

Dia. For which live long to thank both heaven and me!
You may so in the end.--

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.

SCENE III.-The Florentine Camp.

Enter the two French Lords, and two or three Soldiers.

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

[Exit.

[Exit.

2 Lord. 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.

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

2 Lord. 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.

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

of

2 Lord. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence,

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.

I Lord. Now, God delay our rebellion as we are ourselves, what things are we!

2 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 nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself.