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

1 Lord. We cannot afford you so.

[Aside.

Par. Or the baring of my beard+; and to say, it was in stratagem.

1 Lord. 'Twould not do.

[A side.

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

1 Lord. Hardly serve.

[Aside.

Par. Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel-

1 Lord. How deep? Par. Thirty fathom.

[A side.

1 Lord. Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. [Aside. Par. I would, I had any drum of the enemy's; I would swear, I recovered it.

1 Lord. You shall hear one anon. [A side. Par. A drum now of the enemy's! [Alarum within. 1 Lord. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. All. Cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo. Par. O! ransom, ransom : — Do not hide mine [They seize him and blindfold him.

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

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

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

Par.

Oh !

i. c. the shaving of my beard.

1 Sold.

Manka revania dulche.

1 Lord.

O, pray, pray, pray.

Oscorbi dulchos volivorca.

1 Sold. The general is content to spare thee yet;
And, hood-wink'd as thou art, will lead thee on
To gather from thee: haply thou may'st inform
Something to save thy life.

Par.

O, let me live,
And all the secrets of our camp I'll show,

Their force, their purposes: nay, I'll speak that
Which you will wonder at.

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 'em 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.

Titled goddess;

And worth it, with addition! 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.

Ber.

Dia.

So should you be.

No:

My mother, did but duty; such, my lord,
As you owe to your wife.

Ber.

No more of that!

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",

7 What is not holy, that we swear not by,] The sense is-We never swear by what is not holy, but swear by, or take to witness, the Highest, the Divinity. The tenor of the reasoning contained in the following lines perfectly corresponds with this: If I should swear by Jove's great attributes, that I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, when you found by experience that I loved you ill, and was endeavouring to gain credit with you in order to seduce you to your ruin? No, surely; but you would conclude that I had no faith either in Jove or his attributes, and that my oaths were mere words of course. For that oath can certainly have no tie upon us, which we swear by him we profess to love and honour when at the same time we give the strongest proof of our disbelief in him, by pursuing a course which we know will offend and dishonour him. HEATH.

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 affairs,
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:

8 I see, that men make hopes, in such affairs,] i. e. I perceive that while our lovers are making professions of love, they entertain hopes that we shall be betrayed by our passions to yield to their desires. Mr. Malone reads, "in such a scene."

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.

[Exit. 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 his 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'll 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.

[Exit.

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

9 Since Frenchmen are so braid,] i. e. crafty or deceitful.