DIA. Ay, fo you serve us, "Till we ferve you: but when you have our roses, You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves, And mock us with our barenefs. 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, my oaths, When I did love you ill? this has no holding, To fwear by him whom I proteft to love, tell me, That I will work against him: Therefore, your oaths BER. Change it, change it; Be not fo holy-cruel: love is holy; And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts, That you do charge men with: Stand no more off, Who then recovers: fay, thou art mine, and ever DIA. I fee, that men make hopes in fuch affairs, 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. 21 defires, 24 make rope's in fuch a scarre, DIA. Mine honour's fuch a ring: BER. Here, take my ring: My house, mine honour, yea, my life be thine, [window; DIA. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber I'll order take, my mother shall not hear. Now will I charge you in the band of truth, My reasons are moft ftrong; and you fhall know them, Adieu, 'till then; then, fail not: You have won DIA. For which live long to thank both heaven and You may fo in the end. My mother told me juft how he would woo, As if the fat in his heart; she says, all men Have the like oaths: he had fworn to marry me, 31 Since Frenchmen are [me! Only, in this difguise, I think't no fin To cozen him, that would unjustly win. SCENE III. The Florentine Camp. [Exit. Enter the two Lords; Soldiers, behind, attending. 1. L. You have not given him his mother's letter? 2. L. I have deliver'd it an hour fince: there is fomething in't, that ftings his nature; for, on the reading it, he chang'd almost into another man. 1. L. He has much worthy blame lay'd upon him, for fhaking off fo good a wife, and fo fweet a lady. 2. L. Efpecially, he hath incurred the everlasting difpleasure of the king, who had even tun'd his bounty to fing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but you fhall let it dwell darkly with you. the 1. L. When you have fpoken it, 'tis dead, and I am grave of it. 2. L. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence, of a most chaft 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 unchaft composition. 1. L. Now God delay our rebellion; as we are ourfelves, what things are we! 2. L. Meerly our own traitors. And as in the common course of all treasons, we ftill fee them reveal themfelves, ere they attain to their abhorr'd ends; so he, that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in proper ftream o'er-flows himself. his 1. L. Is it not most damnable in us, to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We fhall not then have his company to-night? 27 till they 30 meant damnable 2, L. Not 'till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. 1. L. That approaches apace: I would gladly have him fee his companion anatomiz'd; that he might take a measure of his own judgment, wherein fo curiously he had fet this counterfeit. 2. L. We will not meddle with him, till he come; for his presence must be the whip of the other. 1. L. In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? 2. L. I hear, there is an overture of peace. 1. L. Nay, I affure you, a peace concluded. 2. L. What will count Refillion do then? will he travel higher, or return again into France? 1. L. I perceive by this demand, you are not altogether of his council. 2. L. Let it be forbid, fir! fo fhould I be a great deal of his act. 1. L. Sir, his wife, fome two months fince, fled from his houfe; her pretence, a pilgrimage to faint Jaques le grand; which holy undertaking, with moft auftere fanctimony fhe accomplish'd: and, there residing, through the tenderness of her nature, became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now the fings in heaven. 2. L. How is this juftify'd? 1. L. The ftronger part of it, by her own letters; which makes her ftory true, even to the point of her death her death itfelf, which could not be her office to fay, is come, was faithfully confirm'd by the rector of the place. : 2. L. Hath the count all this intelligence? 1. L. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point for 4 company 5 judgments, 19 pretence is a point, to the full arming of the verity. 2. L. I am heartily forry, that he'll be glad of this. 1. L. How mightily, fometimes, we make us comforts of our loffes! 2. L. And how mightily, fome other times, we drown our gain in tears! the great dignity, that his valour hath here acquir'd for him, fhall at home be encounter'd with a fhame as ample. 1. L. The web of our life is of a mingl'd yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our faults whip'd them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherish'd by our virtues. Enter a Servant. How now! where's your master? Ser. He met the duke in the street, fir, of whom he hath taken a folemn leave; his lordship will next morning for France. The duke hath offer'd him letters of commendations to the king. 2. L. They shall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can commend. Enter BERTRAM. 1. L. They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness: Here's his lordship now. How now, my lord? is't not after midnight? BER. I have to-night difpatch'd fixteen busineffes, a month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: I have conge'd with the duke, done my adieu with his nearest; bury'd a wife, mourn'd for her; writ to my lady mother, I am returning; entertain'd my convoy ; and, between these main parcels of difpatch, effected many nicer needs: the last was the greateft, but that Į have not ended yet. I point from point 22 Ber. They 30 affected |