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length apiece; by an abstract of success: I have congied with the

Duke, done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourn'd for

her; writ to my lady mother I am returning; entertain'd my

convoy; and between these main parcels of dispatch effected many

nicer needs. The last was the greatest, but that I have not ended yet.

SECOND LORD.

If the business be of any difficulty and this morning

your departure hence, it requires haste of your lordship.

BERTRAM.

I mean the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it

hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue between the Fool and

the Soldier? Come, bring forth this counterfeit module has

deceiv'd me like a double-meaning prophesier.

SECOND LORD.

Bring him forth. [Exeunt SOLDIERS] Has sat i' th'

stocks all night, poor gallant knave.

BERTRAM.

No matter; his heels have deserv'd it, in usurping his

spurs so long. How does he carry himself?

SECOND LORD.

I have told your lordship already the stocks carry

him. But to answer you as you would be understood: he weeps like

a wench that had shed her milk; he hath confess'd himself to

Morgan, whom he supposes to be a friar, from the time of his

remembrance to this very instant disaster of his setting i' th'

stocks. And what think you he hath confess'd?

BERTRAM.

Nothing of me, has 'a?

SECOND LORD.

His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his

face; if your lordship be in't, as I believe you are, you must

have the patience to hear it.

Enter PAROLLES guarded, and

FIRST SOLDIER as interpreter

BERTRAM.

A plague upon him! muffled! He can say nothing of me. SECOND LORD. Hush, hush! Hoodman comes. Portotartarossa. FIRST SOLDIER. He calls for the tortures. What will you say without 'em? PAROLLES. I will confess what I know without constraint; if ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. FIRST SOLDIER. Bosko chimurcho. SECOND LORD. Boblibindo chicurmurco. FIRST SOLDIER. YOU are a merciful general. Our General bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. PAROLLES. And truly, as I hope to live. FIRST SOLDIER. 'First demand of him how many horse the Duke is strong.' What say you to that? PAROLLES. Five or six thousand; but very weak and unserviceable. The troops are all scattered, and the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live. FIRST SOLDIER. Shall I set down your answer so? PAROLLES. Do; I'll take the sacrament on 't, how and which way you will. BERTRAM. All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! SECOND LORD. Y'are deceiv'd, my lord; this is Monsieur Parolles, the gallant militarist-that was his own phrase-that had the whole theoric of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger. FIRST LORD. I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword clean; nor believe he can have everything in him by wearing his apparel neatly. FIRST SOLDIER. Well, that's set down. PAROLLES. 'Five or six thousand horse' I said-I will say true- 'or thereabouts' set down, for I'll speak truth. SECOND LORD. He's very near the truth in this. BERTRAM. But I con him no thanks for't in the nature he delivers it. PAROLLES. 'Poor rogues' I pray you say. FIRST SOLDIER. Well, that's set down. PAROLLES. I humbly thank you, sir. A truth's a truth-the rogues are marvellous poor. FIRST SOLDIER. 'Demand of him of what strength they are a-foot.' What say you to that? PAROLLES. By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred fifty each; so that the muster-file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand poll; half of the which dare not shake the snow from off their cassocks lest they shake themselves to pieces. BERTRAM. What shall be done to him? SECOND LORD. Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my condition, and what credit I have with the Duke. FIRST SOLDIER.