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In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire,
Wid. Now I fee the bottom of your purpose.
Herself most chaftly absent: after this,
To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns
Wid. I have yielded:
Inftruct my daughter how the fhall perfevere,
Hel. Why then, to night
Let us affay our plot; which if it fpeed,
SCENE, Part of the French Camp in Florence.
Enter one of the French Lords, with five or fix
Soldiers in ambush.
E can come no other way but by this hedge-corner; when you fally upon him, speak what terrible language you will; though you understand it not your felves, no matter; for we muft not seem to understand him, unless fome one amongst us, whom we muft produce for an interpreter.
Sol. Good captain, let me be th' interpreter.
Lord. Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice?
Sol. No, Sir, I warrant you.
Lord. But what linfie-woolfie haft thou to speak to us again?
Sol. Ev'n fuch as you speak to me.
Lord. He must think us fome band of ftrangers i'th' adverfaries' 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, fo 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 politick. But couch, hoa! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a fleep, and then to return and fwear the lies he forges.
Par. Ten o'clock; within these three hours 'twill be time enough to go home. What shall I fay, I have
done? it must be a very plaufive invention that carries it. They begin to fmoak me, and difgraces have of late knock'd 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.
Lord. This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue was guilty of. [Afide. Par. What the devil fhould move me to undertake the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the impoffibility, and knowing I had no fuch purpofe? I muft give my felf fome hurts, and fay, I got them in exploit; yet flight ones will not carry it. They will fay, came you off with fo little? and great ones I dare not give; wherefore what's the inftance? Tongue, I muft put you into a butter-woman's mouth, and buy my felf another of Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into thefe perils.
Lord. Is it poffible, he should know what he is, and be that he is?
[Afide. Par. I would, the cutting of my garments would ferve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish (word. Lord. We cannot afford you fo.
[Afide. Par. Or the baring of my beard, and to say, it was
Lord. 'Twould not do.
Par. Or to drown my cloaths, and fay, I was ftript.
Lord, Hardly ferve.
Par. Though I fwore, I leap'd from the window of
Lord. How deep?
Par. Thirty fathom.
Lord. Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed.
Par. I would, I had any drum of the enemies; I would fwear, I recover'd it.
Lord. You fhall hear one anon.
Par. A drum now of the enemies! [Alarum within.
Par. Oh! ransom, ranfom:-do not hide mine eyes. [They feize him and blindfold him.
Inter. Boskos thromuldo boskos..
Par. I know, you are the Muskos regiment,
I'll difcover That which fhall undo the Florentine.
Inter. Boskos vauvado; I understand thee, and can fpeak thy tongue; Kerelybonto,Sir, betake thee to thy faith, or feventeen poniards are at thy bofom.. Par. Oh!
Int. Oh, pray, pray, pray.
Lord. Ofceoribi dulchos volivorco.
Int. The General is content to fpare thee yet,
Par. Oh let me live,
And all the fecrets of our Camp I'll fhew;
Int. But wilt thou faithfully?
Come on, thou art granted space.
[Afhort alarum within. Lord. Go, tell the Count Rouillon and my brother, We've caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled
'Till we do hear from them.
Sol. Captain, I will.
Lord. He will betray us all unto our felves,
Inform 'em That.
Sol. So I will, Sir.
Lord. 'Till then I'll keep him dark and fafely lockt.
SCENE changes to the Widow's Houfe.
Enter Bertram, and Diana.
HEY told me, that your name was Fontibell.
Ber. Titled Goddess,
And worth it with addition! but, fair foul,
Dia. She then was honeft.
My Mother did but duty; fuch, my Lord,
-Ber. No more o' that!
I pr'ythee do not strive against my vows:
By love's own fweet constraint, and will for ever
Dia. Ay, fo you ferve us,
'Till we serve you; but when you have our rofes, You barely leave our thorns to prick our felves,
And mock us with our bareness.
Ber. How have I fworn!
Dia. 'Tis not the many oaths, that make the truth; But the plain fingle vow, that is vow'd true; What is not holy, that we fwear not by, But take the High'ft to witnefs: then, pray If I should fwear 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 fwear by him whom I proteft to love, That I will work against him. Therefore your oaths Are words, and poor conditions but unfeal'd;