a month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my lady mother I am returning; entertained 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. If the business be of any difficulty, and this morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your lordship. 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, he has deceived me, like a double-meaning prophesier. Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, poor gallant knave. No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? 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 confessed 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' the stocks: and what think you he hath confessed? Nothing of me, has a'? 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. A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of me: hush, hush! Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa He calls for the tortures: what will you say without 'em? I will confess what I know without constraint: if ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. Bosko chimurcho. Boblibindo chicurmurco. You are a merciful general. Our general bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. And truly, as I hope to live. 'First demand of him how many horse the duke is strong.' What say you to that? 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. Shall I set down your answer so? Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will. All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur Paroles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of his dagger. I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword clean.