You have not given him his mother’s letter?
Haven't you given him his mother's letter?
Did you ever give him his mother's letter?
did u give him his moms letter
I have deliv’red it an hour since; there is something in’t that stings
his nature; for on the reading it, he chang’d almost into another man.
I delivered it an hour ago; there's something in it that wounds his heart; when he read it, he changed into almost a different person.
I gave it to him an hour ago, and man, whatever's in that letter really got to him—he read it and basically turned into someone else.
gave it to him an hour ago something in there destroyed him read it and became a different person
He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking off so good a wife
and so sweet a lady.
He deserves plenty of blame for abandoning such a good wife and such a sweet lady.
He's got a lot to answer for—throwing away such a good woman, such a sweet lady.
he deserves blame for leaving such a good wife such a sweet lady
Especially he hath incurred the everlasting displeasure of the king,
who had even tun’d his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you
a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you.
Especially he's angered the king beyond forgiveness, who had actually set up his gifts to reward Bertram's success. I'll tell you something, but you have to keep it completely secret.
He's really messed with the king—the king had basically arranged his whole estate to make him happy. There's something I want to tell you, but you can't breathe a word.
he angered the king beyond repair king set up everything for him cant tell u but its bad
When you have spoken it, ’tis dead, and I am the grave of it.
Once you've told me, it's forgotten, and I'm the grave where it stays buried.
Once you say it, it's dead—I'm the grave of it.
tell me its dead im the grave
He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence, of a most
chaste 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 unchaste composition.
He's seduced a young gentlewoman here in Florence, very famous for her virtue, and tonight he's going to take her virginity; he's given her his ring—a family heirloom—and thinks he's earned the right to be with her.
He's seduced this beautiful, virtuous young woman here in Florence, and tonight he's going to go through with it. He gave her this fancy ring—makes him think he's got the right to sleep with her.
seduced a young woman very pure and good tonight hes taking her gave her his precious ring
Now, God delay our rebellion! As we are ourselves, what things are we!
May God slow our collapse! Given what we are, what kind of creatures are we?
God, hold back our ruin! We're a sorry bunch when you think about it.
god delay our fall what kind of creatures are we
Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of all treasons,
we still see them reveal themselves till they attain to their abhorr’d
ends; so he that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in
his proper stream, o’erflows himself.
We're only our own traitors. And like all betrayals, we watch them expose themselves until they reach their horrible ends; so this one, who conspires against his own honor, drowns himself in his own corruption.
We're just betraying ourselves, really. Like all traitors, he'll keep revealing more and more until he hits rock bottom. The guy's working against his own class and dignity—he's basically drowning in it.
were all just betraying ourselves traitors always expose themselves he drowns in his own stream
Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters of our unlawful
intents? We shall not then have his company tonight?
Isn't it damnable that we broadcast our illegal plans? Will we not see him tonight?
Isn't it terrible how we go around announcing our bad plans to everyone? So we're not seeing him tonight?
we advertise our sins well see him tonight tho
Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour.
Not until after midnight; that's when he's scheduled to arrive.
Nope, after midnight. That's his plan.
after midnight only thats his schedule
That approaches apace. I would gladly have him see his company
anatomized, that he might take a measure of his own judgments, wherein
so curiously he had set this counterfeit.
That time's coming soon. I'd love for him to see his friends exposed—it might give him a real look at his own judgment, which he's built so carefully around this fake friend.
That's coming up fast. I really want him to see his buddies revealed for what they are—might make him take a hard look at his own choices, especially this one phony he's relied on so much.
midnight coming soon want him to see his friends exposed might change his judgment
We will not meddle with him till he come; for his presence must be the
whip of the other.
We won't bother him until he arrives; his presence will be what drives the others to speak.
We'll leave him alone till he gets here. When he shows up, that's when the real show begins.
leave him til he comes his presence will drive the rest
In the meantime, what hear you of these wars?
Meanwhile, what's the news on these wars?
So what's going on with the fighting?
whats happening with the wars
I hear there is an overture of peace.
I hear peace is being discussed.
Looks like they might be making peace.
peace talks maybe
Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
Actually, I assure you, peace is already made.
No, trust me—peace is done.
peace is already made
What will Count Rossillon do then? Will he travel higher, or return
again into France?
So what will Count Rossillon do? Will he go somewhere else, or return to France?
So what's the Count going to do now? Look for another war, or go back to France?
whats rossillon doing go elsewhere or back to france
I perceive by this demand, you are not altogether of his council.
I can tell from your question that you're not really in his circle.
Based on that question, I'd say you're not really close to him.
youre not in his inner circle
Let it be forbid, sir! So should I be a great deal of his act.
God forbid that! If I were, I'd be responsible for his actions.
No way! If I were, I'd have to answer for everything he does.
god forbid id be blamed for all he does
Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his house. Her pretence
is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le Grand; which holy undertaking with
most austere sanctimony she accomplished; and there residing, the
tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a
groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven.
Sir, his wife left his house about two months ago. She claimed she was going on a pilgrimage to Saint James the Great; she undertook this holy journey with great piety and completed it; while there, her tender heart was broken by grief; finally, she sighed out her last breath, and now she's singing in heaven.
His wife took off from his house about two months ago. Said she was going on this pilgrimage to Saint James—really committed to it, very pious about the whole thing. While she was there, grief just ate her alive; eventually she gave up the ghost, and now she's up in heaven singing.
his wife left 2 months ago said she was on pilgrimage grief destroyed her now shes in heaven
How is this justified?
How do we know this is true?
How do we know that's real?
how do we know this
The stronger part of it by her own letters, which makes her story true,
even to the point of her death. Her death itself, which could not be
her office to say is come, was faithfully confirm’d by the rector of
the place.
Most of it comes from her own letters, which prove her story is true—even down to the moment of her death. Her death itself, which she couldn't have reported, was officially confirmed by the priest of that place.
Her letters basically confirm everything—including when she died. She obviously couldn't write and tell us she was dead, so the priest there verified it officially.
her letters prove it priest confirmed the death all verified
Hath the count all this intelligence?
Does the Count know all this?
He know all of this?
count know all this
Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, to the full
arming of the verity.
Yes, and all the specific confirmations, point by point, completely convincing him of the truth.
Yeah, and every detail has been confirmed—it's completely proven.
yep all confirmed every detail verified
I am heartily sorry that he’ll be glad of this.
I'm deeply sorry that he's going to be happy about this.
I hate it—but he's probably relieved.
hate that hes glad about her death
How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses!
How strong our habit of finding comfort in our losses!
Isn't it amazing how we can turn our worst losses into something we feel okay about?
we make comfort from loss
And how mightily some other times we drown our gain in tears! The great
dignity that his valour hath here acquir’d for him shall at home be
encountered with a shame as ample.
And how sometimes we drown our gains in tears! The great honor his courage earned him here will be met with equal shame when he gets home.
And sometimes we can turn our wins into tears! All the glory he won here with his fighting is going to be wiped out by the shame that's waiting for him back home.
we cry over our wins his glory here meeting shame at home
The conventional reading of the braggart soldier — from Plautus through Jonson to Shakespeare — is a character who is self-deceived: he genuinely believes he's brave. What makes Parolles different is that he isn't. His soliloquy in 4-1 showed us a man calculating how to maintain a fraud he knows is a fraud. And his closing speech here — 'Simply the thing I am / Shall make me live' — suggests that what the humiliation gave him wasn't self-knowledge (he already had that) but permission. Permission to stop pretending. The comedy machine that assembled this scene — fake language, fake generals, fake execution — produced something Shakespeare didn't always offer: a character who actually changes, who walks out different from how they walked in.
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our
virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes
would despair if they were not cherish’d by our virtues.
Life is made of mixed threads, both good and bad woven together; our good qualities would be arrogant without our faults to humble them; and our bad actions would despair if they weren't supported by our good qualities.
Our lives are made of both good and bad threads all mixed together. Our good side would be totally arrogant if our faults didn't keep it in check. And our bad side would fall apart if we didn't have good qualities holding it up.
life is mixed good and bad together virtues need faults crimes need virtues
How now? Where’s your master?
How are things? Where is your master?
What's going on? Where's your master?
wheres ur master
He met the duke in the street, sir; of whom he hath taken a solemn
leave: his lordship will next morning for France. The duke hath offered
him letters of commendations to the king.
He ran into the Duke on the street; he's formally said goodbye to him: his lordship is leaving for France in the morning. The Duke has offered him letters of recommendation to the King.
He met the Duke in the street and formally said goodbye. The Duke's leaving for France tomorrow morning and gave him letters of recommendation to take to the King.
met the duke said goodbye formal like leaving for france got recommendation letters
They shall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they
can commend.
Those letters will be no more useful than necessary; if anything, they're more generous than his behavior deserves.
Those letters won't do him any favors—if anything, they're more than he's earned.
letters wont help much he dont deserve them anyway
They cannot be too sweet for the king’s tartness. Here’s his lordship
now. How now, my lord, is’t not after midnight?
They can't be too kind to balance the King's harshness. Here he is now. Well, my lord, isn't it after midnight?
They can't be too nice to make up for the King's bad mood. And look who's here. So, my lord, it's past midnight?
cant be too nice king is harsh here he comes now past midnight right
I have tonight despatch’d sixteen businesses, a month’s 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, entertained my convoy, and between these main
parcels of despatch effected many nicer needs: the last was the
greatest, but that I have not ended yet.
I've finished sixteen matters tonight, each one taking a month to handle normally; by rushing through them: I've said goodbye to the Duke, paid my respects to his closest people; buried my wife, mourned for her, written to my mother that I'm returning, arranged my escort, and handled dozens of smaller tasks: the last one was the biggest, but I haven't finished that yet.
I've knocked out sixteen things tonight—stuff that normally takes a month each, just rushed through them: said goodbye to the Duke, paid respect to his people, buried my wife, mourned her, told my mom I'm coming home, set up my escort, handled a ton of other stuff. The last thing's the biggest, but I haven't finished that one.
finished 16 things tonight each one normally takes a month buries wife mourned her told mom im coming biggest thing still unfinished
If the business be of any difficulty and this morning your departure
hence, it requires haste of your lordship.
If this business is serious and you're leaving tomorrow morning, it needs your urgent attention.
If this last thing's important and you're taking off tomorrow, you better get on it.
if its serious and youre leaving tomorrow move fast
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.
I mean the business isn't finished because I'm afraid to hear how it turns out later. But can we have this confrontation between the Fool and the Soldier? Bring out this fake who's deceived me like a two-faced prophet.
I mean, I haven't finished it because I don't want it coming back to haunt me later. But let's do this: can we have this scene with the Fool and the Soldier? Bring out that phony who's been playing me like some two-faced fortune teller.
cant finish it fear what comes later bring out the fake hes deceived me
Bring him forth.
Bring him forth.
bring him forth.
Bring him forth.
Has sat i’ the stocks all night, poor gallant knave.
He's been sitting in the stocks all night, poor pathetic rogue.
He's been stuck in the stocks all night, the poor guy.
been in stocks all nite poor guy
No matter; his heels have deserv’d it, in usurping his spurs so long.
How does he carry himself?
It doesn't matter; his feet deserve it for wearing spurs he shouldn't have worn so long. How's he holding up?
Who cares—his feet had it coming for wearing those fancy spurs all this time. How's he doing?
his feet deserve it worn spurs too long whats his attitude
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?
I've already told you, my lord. The stocks are holding him. But to put it plainly: he weeps like someone crying over spilled milk. He has confessed everything to Morgan, whom he believes to be a friar, from his earliest memories right up to this moment of being locked in the stocks. And what do you think he confessed?
I already told you that, my lord. The stocks are doing their job. But to be clear: he's blubbering like someone fussing over nothing. He's confessed his whole life to Morgan, who he thinks is a priest, from everything he remembers up until he got stuck in the stocks. So what do you suppose he told him?
stocks are holding him he's crying over spilled milk confessed everything to morgan since childhood
Nothing of me, has he?
He said nothing about me, did he?
He didn't mention me at all, right?
me safe?
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.
His confession is written down and will be read to him; if you're in it—which I believe you are—you'll have to listen to it.
His confession is written down and they're going to read it to him. If you're in there—and I'm pretty sure you are—you're gonna have to hear it.
confession is written theyll read it to him youre probably in it
A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of me; hush, hush!
A curse on him! He's blindfolded, so he can say nothing about me; be quiet!
Damn it! He's got that blindfold on, so he can't say anything about me. Shut up!
hes blindfolded cant say anything about me shut up
Hoodman comes! _Portotartarossa._
Hoodman comes! _Portotartarossa._
hoodman comes! _portotartarossa._
Hoodman comes! _Portotartarossa._
He calls for the tortures. What will you say without ’em?
He's asking for torture. What will you say without it?
He's demanding the rack. What do you say without it?
he wants torture whats u saying without it
I will confess what I know without constraint. If ye pinch me like a
pasty I can say no more.
I'll confess what I know without any forcing. If you squeeze me like a pie crust, I can't say any more.
I'll tell you everything I know without the torture. Squeeze me all you want—I can't say more than I know.
ill confess without force squeeze me like pastry cant say more than i know
_Bosko chimurcho._
_Bosko chimurcho._
_bosko chimurcho._
_Bosko chimurcho._
_Boblibindo chicurmurco._
_Boblibindo chicurmurco._
_boblibindo chicurmurco._
_Boblibindo chicurmurco._
You are a merciful general. Our general bids you answer to what I shall
ask you out of a note.
You're a merciful general. Our general wants you to answer the questions I have for you from this list.
You're a pretty nice general. Our general wants you to answer these questions here.
youre merciful answer these questions
And truly, as I hope to live.
Yes, and truly, I hope to stay alive.
Yeah, honestly, I really do.
yeah truly hope to live
‘First demand of him how many horse the duke is strong.’ What say you
to that?
"First ask him how many soldiers the Duke has." What do you say to that?
"First, how many soldiers does the Duke have?" What about that?
how many soldiers does duke have
Before Bertram enters and the Parolles farce begins, the Second Lord delivers a four-line observation that has been quoted for four hundred years: 'The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.' It's a deeply Protestant-inflected moral vision — neither pure virtue nor pure vice, but entanglement. What makes it hit so hard here is that it applies perfectly to every character in the play. Helena's love is pure but her methods aren't. Bertram's valiance is real but his character isn't. Even the bed-trick, which achieves a good end through a questionable means, lives in the mingled yarn. Watch how the play keeps refusing to resolve this — the ending doesn't clean the threads, it just ties the knot.
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.
Five or six thousand; but they're very weak and useless: the troops are scattered all over, and the commanders are worthless scoundrels, on my reputation and I hope to live.
Five or six thousand, but they're weak and useless: troops are scattered everywhere, and the commanders are garbage, on my word, I swear.
5 or 6 thousand but very weak scattered everywhere commanders are trash
Shall I set down your answer so?
Should I write down your answer like that?
I'm writing that down?
got it written down
Do. I’ll take the sacrament on ’t, how and which way you will.
Yes. I'll swear to it, no matter how you ask me.
Yeah. I'll swear to God on it, whatever you want.
yeah ill swear on it
All’s one to him. What a past-saving slave is this!
It's all the same to him. What an impossible slave this is!
None of it matters to him. What a hopeless wreck!
all the same to him impossible slave
You are deceived, 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.
You're mistaken, my lord; this is Monsieur Parolles, the great military expert (his own words), who had all his war theory tied up in his scarf knot and all his practical knowledge in his dagger handle.
You're wrong, my lord—that's Monsieur Parolles, the so-called great military guy (his own words), who kept all his war knowledge in the knot of his scarf and all his practice in his dagger.
thats monsieur parolles the great militarist war theory in his scarf practice in his dagger
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.
I'm done trusting men because their swords are clean, or believing they have everything good just from wearing nice clothes.
I'm never believing anyone again just because their sword's polished or their outfit looks sharp.
never trusting clean swords again not believing nice clothes
Well, that’s set down.
Alright, that's recorded.
Fine, got it down.
thats written down
‘Five or six thousand horse’ I said—I will say true—or thereabouts, set
down,—for I’ll speak truth.
"Five or six thousand soldiers," I said—I'm telling the truth—or thereabouts, write it down,—because I'm speaking truthfully.
"Five or six thousand soldiers," I said—I'm being honest—or close to that, write it down—because I'm really telling the truth.
5 or 6 thousand im telling truth or thereabouts write it
He’s very near the truth in this.
He's very close to the truth there.
He's pretty much right on that one.
hes right about that
But I con him no thanks for’t in the nature he delivers it.
But I don't give him credit for the way he's saying it.
But I'm not impressed by how he's delivering it.
dont credit him for how he said it
Poor rogues, I pray you say.
Poor soldiers, please note.
Write down: poor soldiers.
poor soldiers note it
Well, that’s set down.
Alright, that's recorded.
Fine, I got it.
written down
I humbly thank you, sir; a truth’s a truth, the rogues are marvellous
poor.
Thank you, sir; truth is truth, and those soldiers are terribly poor.
Thank you, sir; a fact's a fact, and those guys are really broke.
thanks sir truth is truth soldiers are poor
‘Demand of him of what strength they are a-foot.’ What say you to that?
"Ask him how many soldiers they have available." What do you say to that?
"What's their foot soldier count?" Anything to say?
how many soldiers on foot
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.
I swear, sir, if I'm going to stay alive, I'll tell the truth. Let me think: Spurio, a hundred fifty, Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred fifty each; my own company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred fifty each: so the total, good and bad, comes to about fifteen thousand fighters total; half of them are so weak they'd fall apart if they shook the frost off their uniforms.
I'm telling you, on my life, I'll tell the truth. So: Spurio's got about a hundred fifty, Sebastian's got his bunch; Corambus, another bunch; Jaques, another bunch; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, and Gratii, two hundred fifty each; my company—Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii—two hundred fifty each: adding it all up, good ones and bad ones, we get about fifteen thousand men. Half of them are so worn out they'd literally fall apart if they tried to shake snow off their coats.
im telling truth spurio 150 sebastian so many etc 250 each total 15k soldiers half too weak to shake snow off
What shall be done to him?
What will happen to him?
So what do we do with him?
whats happening to him
Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my condition, and what
credit I have with the duke.
Nothing, just let him have our thanks. Ask him about my position and what influence I have with the Duke.
Nothing—just thank him. Ask about my status and how well I'm in with the Duke.
just thank him ask about my position how i stand with duke
Well, that’s set down. ‘You shall demand of him whether one Captain
Dumaine be i’ the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is with the
duke, what his valour, honesty and expertness in wars; or whether he
thinks it were not possible with well-weighing sums of gold to corrupt
him to a revolt.’ What say you to this? What do you know of it?
Alright, that's recorded. "You shall ask him whether a Captain Dumaine is in the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is with the Duke, what his courage, honesty and military skill are; or whether he thinks it's possible with large amounts of gold to bribe him to rebel." What do you say to this? What do you know about this?
Got it written. "Ask whether Captain Dumaine is in camp, a Frenchman; what the Duke thinks of him, his courage, honesty and expertise in war; or if you think you could bribe him with enough gold to turn traitor." What about that? You know anything?
captain dumaine in camp french guy whats his rep with duke courage honesty expertise could bribe him
I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of the inter’gatories.
Demand them singly.
Please, let me answer each question one at a time. Ask them separately.
Please, ask me one thing at a time.
ask one at a time
Do you know this Captain Dumaine?
Are you acquainted with Captain Dumaine?
You know this guy Dumaine?
u know captain dumaine
I know him: he was a botcher’s ’prentice in Paris, from whence he was
whipped for getting the shrieve’s fool with child, a dumb innocent that
could not say him nay.
I know him: he was a tailor's apprentice in Paris, and was whipped for getting the sheriff's foolish young woman pregnant—a helpless girl who couldn't refuse him.
Yeah, I know him: he was a tailor's helper in Paris, got whipped for knocking up the sheriff's dumb girl—some poor thing who had no way to say no.
tailors apprentice in paris whipped for getting sheriffsool pregnant help less girl
Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know his brains are
forfeit to the next tile that falls.
No, with your permission, stop. Don't strike him. Though I know his brains are so worthless they're forfeited to the next falling tile.
Stop, don't hit him. Even though I know he's so stupid his head could be taken off by a falling roof tile.
stop don't hit him he's such an idiot
Well, is this captain in the Duke of Florence’s camp?
So, is this captain serving with the Duke of Florence?
So is he with the Duke of Florence?
this guy in florence's camp
Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy.
As far as I know, he is, and he's lousy.
Far as I know, yeah, and he's pathetic.
yeah hes there and lousy
Nay, look not so upon me; we shall hear of your lordship anon.
Don't look at me that way; we'll hear more from your lordship later.
Don't give me that look. We'll talk about you in a minute.
dont look at me well talk about u later
What is his reputation with the duke?
What's his standing with the Duke?
How does the Duke see him?
whats his rep with duke
Bertram's 'abstract of success' — his account of the night's accomplishments — is one of the most quietly devastating moments in Shakespeare's comedies. He lists: farewell to the Duke, farewell to his household, 'buried a wife, mourned for her,' wrote to his mother, arranged travel, handled smaller tasks. Helena's death — the death of a woman who loved him enough to engineer a complex fraud to win him — appears between administrative items. He doesn't pause on it. He doesn't elaborate. He's already moving on. The play never gives us a scene of Bertram hearing about Helena and feeling anything, because that scene doesn't exist for him. This is the man Helena is fighting to win back. Whether the ending earns that goal is the question the play leaves unresolved.
The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer of mine, and writ to
me this other day to turn him out o’ the band. I think I have his
letter in my pocket.
The Duke knows him as nothing but a poor officer under me, and recently wrote telling me to kick him out of the unit. I think I have that letter on me.
The Duke just thinks he's a low-ranking guy under me, and he actually wrote me recently to boot him out. I've got that letter somewhere.
duke knows him as poor officer wrote to kick him out i have the letter
Marry, we’ll search.
Well, then we'll search.
Alright, let's search you for it.
ok let's search
In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there or it is upon a
file, with the duke’s other letters, in my tent.
Honestly, I'm not sure; either it's here or it's filed with the Duke's other letters in my tent.
Actually, I'm not sure; it's either on me or filed away with my other stuff in the tent.
not sure here or in my tent
Here ’tis; here’s a paper; shall I read it to you?
Here it is; there's a paper; should I read it to you?
Here's a paper; you want me to read it?
here it is should i read it
I do not know if it be it or no.
I'm not sure if that's the right one.
I don't know if that's it.
not sure if thats it
Our interpreter does it well.
Our translator is doing an excellent job.
This guy's translating great.
interpreter doing well
Excellently.
Excellently.
excellently.
Excellently.
[_Reads._] _Dian, the Count’s a fool, and full of gold._
Diana, the Count is a fool and full of wealth.
Diana, the Count is an idiot and he's loaded.
diana - count's a fool but he's rich
That is not the duke’s letter, sir; that is an advertisement to a
proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to take heed of the allurement of
one Count Rossillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very ruttish.
I pray you, sir, put it up again.
That is not the duke's letter. It's a warning to a respectable young woman in Florence, Diana, to watch out for the seductions of Count Rossillon—a foolish and lazy boy, but nevertheless extremely lustful. I ask you, put it away.
That's not the duke's letter. It's a warning to a nice young woman in Florence named Diana, telling her to watch out for Count Rossillon trying to seduce her—a stupid lazy boy, but very horny. Please put it back.
that's not the duke's letter warns diana about count who's lazy but horny
Nay, I’ll read it first by your favour.
No, I'll read it first if you don't mind.
Nah, I'll read it first.
ill read it first
My meaning in’t, I protest, was very honest in the behalf of the maid;
for I knew the young count to be a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is
a whale to virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.
I swear, I meant it entirely for the girl's protection; I knew the young Count to be a dangerous, sexually aggressive boy, who's a predator to virginity and devours every young girl he finds.
I'm telling you, I wrote that to protect her; I know this Count is dangerous and sex-obsessed, a real predator who destroys virgins and eats up every young girl he can get.
i meant it to protect her hes dangerous and horny predator to virginity devours all the girls
Damnable both sides rogue!
He's a cursed traitor coming and going!
The worst kind of scum!
cursed traitor both ways
_When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it;
After he scores, he never pays the score.
Half won is match well made; match, and well make it;
He ne’er pays after-debts, take it before.
And say a soldier, ‘Dian,’ told thee this:
Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss;
For count of this, the count’s a fool, I know it,
Who pays before, but not when he does owe it.
Thine, as he vow’d to thee in thine ear,_
When he makes you promises, tell him to hand over gold, and accept it; Once he runs up a bill, he never settles what he owes. A deal half-paid in advance is a good deal; make the deal, and make it wisely; He never pays debts afterwards, so get the money first. And tell him a soldier, Diana, gave you this advice: Grown men are the ones to get involved with; boys aren't worth kissing; Because, take note, the count is a fool, I'm sure of it, Who pays up front, but never when he actually owes. Yours, just as he swore to you, whispering in your ear,
When he starts swearing he loves you, tell him to put cash on the table, and take it. Once he's had what he wants, he never pays up. Get half up front and you've done well; strike the deal and make it a smart one. He never pays after the fact, so get paid before. And tell him a soldier warned you, Diana: Go for real men, not boys; boys aren't worth kissing. Because trust me, the count's an idiot Who'll pay in advance but never once he owes you. Yours, like he promised you in a whisper,
diana listen if he swears he loves u, make him pay first he never pays after he gets what he wants date men not boys the count is a fool fr xo (like he whispered to u)
He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme in’s forehead.
He'll be whipped through the whole army with this rhyme written on his forehead.
He's going to get whipped through the whole army with this poem on his face.
hell get whipped with rhyme on his head
This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold linguist, and the
armipotent soldier.
This is your loyal friend, sir, the master of many languages and the powerful soldier.
Meet your devoted friend here—the guy who speaks every language and fights like a warrior.
here's yr devoted friend who speaks everything & fights
I could endure anything before but a cat, and now he’s a cat to me.
I could put up with anything before except a coward, and now he has become exactly that to me.
I could handle anything before, but not a coward. And now that's exactly what he's become.
could deal w/ anything but a coward. now that's what he is
I perceive, sir, by our general’s looks we shall be fain to hang you.
I can tell, sir, from our general's expression that we will have to hang you.
By the look on the general's face, sir, I'm afraid we're going to have to hang you.
general looks like we gotta hang u
My life, sir, in any case. Not that I am afraid to die, but that, my
offences being many, I would repent out the remainder of nature. Let me
live, sir, in a dungeon, i’ the stocks, or anywhere, so I may live.
Save my life, sir, at any cost. It's not that I fear dying, but given my many offenses, I need time to repent for the rest of my life. Let me live, sir, in a dungeon, in stocks, or anywhere else, as long as I can keep living.
Please spare my life, sir. It's not that I'm afraid to die—it's that I've done so many wrong things, I need the rest of my life to repent. Just let me live, sir, anywhere—a dungeon, stocks, whatever—as long as I can keep living.
save my life. not scared of dying, but ive done so much wrong i need time to repent. let me live anywhere
We’ll see what may be done, so you confess freely. Therefore, once more
to this Captain Dumaine: you have answer’d to his reputation with the
duke, and to his valour. What is his honesty?
We will see what can be arranged if you confess freely. So, once more about Captain Dumaine: you have vouched for his reputation with the duke and his military skill. What is his honesty like?
We might be able to help if you're completely honest with us. So let's talk more about Captain Dumaine—you've already told us about his reputation with the duke and his courage. But what about his honesty?
we'll help if u confess. what about dumaine's honesty?
He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for rapes and ravishments
he parallels Nessus. He professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking
them he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie, sir, with such
volubility that you would think truth were a fool: drunkenness is his
best virtue, for he will be swine-drunk, and in his sleep he does
little harm, save to his bedclothes about him; but they know his
conditions and lay him in straw. I have but little more to say, sir, of
his honesty; he has everything that an honest man should not have; what
an honest man should have, he has nothing.
He will steal anything, sir, even from a sacred place. He is like Nessus when it comes to assault and ravishment. He does not keep oaths; when breaking them, he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie with such fluency that you would think truth was foolish. Drunkenness is his greatest virtue, because he gets so drunk he becomes harmless and just ruins his bedclothes, though they know this about him and lay him in straw. I have little else to say about his honesty, sir—he has all the qualities an honest man should not have, and none that he should.
He will steal anything, sir, even sacred things. For violence and assault, he is as bad as Nessus. He does not care about keeping promises—he breaks them like he is stronger than Hercules himself. He will lie so smoothly that you would think honesty was stupid. His best quality is getting drunk, because when he is that wasted he is harmless except to his own clothes, and they know it so they put him in straw. Honestly, sir, I have nothing else good to say about his honesty—he has got every quality an honest man should never have, and none that he should.
steals from churches. lies constantly. breaks promises. his only good quality is when he's too drunk to hurt anyone. he's got all the wrong qualities & none of the right ones
I begin to love him for this.
I am starting to respect him because of what you have said.
You know what, I am actually starting to like the guy because of this.
ngl i kinda like him now
For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon him for me, he’s more
and more a cat.
You like him because of what he just said about his honesty? Curse him as far as I am concerned—he becomes more and more a coward.
You like him because of what he said? Forget it—he is more of a coward every minute.
u like him for THAT? no way. he's such a coward
What say you to his expertness in war?
What do you say about his skill in warfare?
So what is your take on his military abilities?
what about his war skills?
Faith, sir, has led the drum before the English tragedians,—to belie
him I will not,—and more of his soldiership I know not, except in that
country he had the honour to be the officer at a place there called
Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of files. I would do the man
what honour I can, but of this I am not certain.
Truly, sir, he has led the drum before English stage actors—I won't lie about it—and I know nothing more of his real soldiership, except that in that country he had the honor of being an officer at a place called Mile-End, to teach the doubling of ranks. I would do the man what honor I can, but of this I'm not certain.
Well, sir, he's marched with a drum in front of English theater actors—I won't make that up—and that's all I know about his genuine military service. Except he was stationed at some place called Mile-End where he taught soldiers how to double their formations. I'd like to give him credit, but honestly I'm not sure.
he marched with stage actors that's all his military service maybe taught formations can't be sure
He hath out-villain’d villainy so far that the rarity redeems him.
He has been such a villain beyond ordinary villainy that his extreme badness almost makes him admirable.
He has been so ridiculously evil that he is actually kind of charming—his extreme wickedness is almost impressive.
he's so evil it's almost impressive
A pox on him! He’s a cat still.
Curse him! He is still a coward.
That curse stands—he's still nothing but a coward.
curse him. still a coward
The interrogation scene is genuinely, fully funny — and part of what makes it funny is its cruelty. Parolles isn't just exposed; he's made to describe his closest associates in the most savage terms possible while the people being described stand listening. The First Lord can barely contain himself when Parolles calls him a Paris-whipped tailor's apprentice with a disabled conquest. The Second Lord asks himself 'Why does he ask him of me?' as his own portrait unfolds. Shakespeare understood that the funniest comedies involve genuine pain — not slapstick but exposure. What prevents the scene from curdling is Parolles' closing soliloquy, which transforms humiliation into something unexpectedly dignified. The cruelty was real; so is the wisdom that comes from surviving it.
His qualities being at this poor price, I need not to ask you if gold
will corrupt him to revolt.
Given that his character is worth so little, I do not need to ask whether gold will make him betray us.
Since his character is worth nothing, I do not even need to ask if money would make him turn against us.
his character's worthless so gold will def corrupt him
Sir, for a quart d’ecu he will sell the fee-simple of his salvation,
the inheritance of it, and cut the entail from all remainders, and a
perpetual succession for it perpetually.
Sir, for just a small amount of money he will sell his salvation completely, ending any inheritance of it and cutting off any remaining claims, and keep on selling it over and over.
Sir, for a tiny amount of money he would sell his soul entirely and completely, forever and ever—nothing left to pass down, nothing at all.
for pocket change he'd sell his soul forever
What’s his brother, the other Captain Dumaine?
What is his brother like, the other Captain Dumaine?
So what about his brother, the other Captain Dumaine?
what about his brother the other captain
Why does he ask him of me?
Why does he ask Parolles about me?
What does he want to know about me from Parolles?
why is he asking about me?
What’s he?
What’s he?
what’s he?
What’s he?
E’en a crow o’ the same nest; not altogether so great as the first in
goodness, but greater a great deal in evil. He excels his brother for a
coward, yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is. In a
retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming on he has the cramp.
Just a bird from the same nest; not as good as his brother, but much worse in evil. He surpasses his brother in cowardice, even though his brother is considered one of the best around. In a retreat he runs faster than any servant, but when advancing he freezes up.
Just a bird from the same nest—not as good as his brother in character, but a lot worse when it comes to evil. He is actually more cowardly than his brother, even though his brother is supposed to be great. He is fast in retreat but gets paralyzed when it is time to charge.
same nest bird but more cowardly. runs away fast but freezes attacking
If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine?
If we save your life, will you agree to betray the Florentine army?
If we let you live, will you agree to betray the Florentines?
if we save u will u betray the florentines
Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rossillon.
Yes, and also the captain of his cavalry, Count Rossillon.
Yes, and I will even give you Count Rossillon, the cavalry commander.
yeah & the cavalry captain too
I’ll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure.
I will speak privately with the general and find out what he wants to do.
I will talk with the general in private and see what he decides.
ill check w the general
[_Aside._] I’ll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! Only to seem
to deserve well, and to beguile the supposition of that lascivious
young boy the count, have I run into this danger: yet who would have
suspected an ambush where I was taken?
No more of this military scheming; curse it all! Only trying to appear worthy and to fool that lustful young Count have I gotten into this danger. Yet who would have expected an ambush where I was captured?
I'm totally done with all this military nonsense. I only got into this mess because I wanted to look impressive and trick the Count. Who could have predicted I'd get ambushed here?
done with military schemes only did it to look good and fool the count didn't see the ambush coming
There is no remedy, sir, but you must die. The general says you that
have so traitorously discovered the secrets of your army, and made such
pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no
honest use; therefore you must die. Come, headsman, off with his head.
There is no way around it, sir, you must die. The general says that you, who have so treacherously revealed your army's secrets and made such harmful reports about men of great honor, cannot serve any honest purpose in the world; therefore you must die. Come, executioner, cut off his head.
There is no getting around it, sir—you have to die. The general says that since you have betrayed your army's secrets and spoken such damaging lies about honorable men, you are no good to the world anymore. So you have to die. Executioner, off with his head.
ur gonna die. u betrayed yr army & lied about good men. executioner cut his head off
O Lord! sir, let me live, or let me see my death.
Oh Lord, sir, please let me live, or at least let me see what is happening to me.
Oh God, sir, please let me live, or at least let me see what is going to happen.
omg let me live or at least let me see what happens
That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends.
You will, and you will say goodbye to all your friends.
Sure thing, and you get to say your final farewells too.
u can say bye to ur friends
So, look about you; know you any here?
So, look around you; do you know anyone here?
Go ahead, look around; you know anyone in this room?
look around u know anyone
Good morrow, noble captain.
Good morning, noble captain.
Morning to you, noble captain.
morning captain
God bless you, Captain Parolles.
I wish you all the best, Captain Parolles.
Take care out there, Captain.
god bless u captain
God save you, noble captain.
I hope good fortune follows you, noble captain.
Godspeed to you, noble captain.
god save u captain
Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafew? I am for France.
Captain, what message will you send to my Lord Lafew? I am heading to France.
Captain, should I give Lord Lafew any message from you? I am heading to France.
message for lord lafew? im going to france
Good Captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana
in behalf of the Count Rossillon? And I were not a very coward I’d
compel it of you; but fare you well.
Good Captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you wrote to Diana on behalf of Count Rossillon? If I were not such a coward I would force it out of you, but farewell.
Good Captain, can I get a copy of that sonnet you wrote to Diana for Count Rossillon? If I were not such a coward I would demand it, but goodbye anyway.
gimme copy of sonnet u wrote for diana. id force u but im a coward lol bye
You are undone, captain: all but your scarf; that has a knot on’t yet.
You are ruined, captain—everything is gone except your scarf, which still has a knot on it.
You are finished, captain. Everything is gone except your scarf—that one still has a knot on it.
ur done. lost everything but ur scarf
Who cannot be crushed with a plot?
Can anyone be defeated by a scheme?
Can anyone resist a plot?
no one escapes a good scheme
If you could find out a country where but women were that had received
so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir. I
am for France too; we shall speak of you there.
If you could find a country where only women lived who had experienced as much shame as you, you could start a shameless nation. Farewell, sir. I am heading to France too; we will talk about you there.
If you could find a country of women who had experienced your level of shame, you could start a nation of shameless people. Goodbye, sir. I am heading to France too—and we will be talking about you there.
if there was a country of women w/ yr shame u could start a nation lol bye going to france
Yet am I thankful. If my heart were great
’Twould burst at this. Captain I’ll be no more,
But I will eat, and drink, and sleep as soft
As captain shall. Simply the thing I am
Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,
Let him fear this; for it will come to pass
That every braggart shall be found an ass.
Rust, sword; cool, blushes; and, Parolles live
Safest in shame; being fool’d, by foolery thrive.
There’s place and means for every man alive.
I’ll after them.
Yet I am grateful. If I had a greater heart it would break from this. I will be a captain no longer, but I will eat, drink, and sleep as comfortably as a captain does. The simple creature I am shall sustain me. Let anyone who recognizes himself as a braggart beware, because every braggart will be revealed as a fool. Let my sword rust; let my blushes fade; and let Parolles live safest in shame. Being fooled, I will thrive through foolery. There is a place and a way for every person alive. I will follow after them.
But I am grateful for this. If my heart were any bigger it would shatter. I will not be a captain anymore, but I will eat, drink, and sleep just as well. The simple person I am will be enough to live on. Anyone who knows he is a braggart should fear this—because every braggart will be found out as a fool. Let my sword rust; let my embarrassment fade; let Parolles live safe in his shame. I have been fooled, but I will make a living out of foolery. There is a place and a way for everyone alive. I am going after them.
im grateful. ill eat drink sleep fine. im just a fool & thats ok. braggarts get exposed. ill thrive being foolish. ill go after them
The Reckoning
The great comic climax of the play arrives here, and it's funnier and darker than you expect. Parolles' confessions are hilarious — his portrait of the First Lord is magnificent slander — but the real payload is his soliloquy at the end, after everyone has left. Stripped of his audience, he invents a new philosophy on the spot: 'Simply the thing I am / Shall make me live.' A braggart soldier finds self-knowledge through humiliation and decides to live honestly. Meanwhile, Bertram has just cold-bloodedly itemized his night — 'buried a wife, mourned for her' in a list of admin — and received word of Helena's death without any visible grief. The comedy of Parolles throws the tragedy of Bertram into sharp relief.
If this happened today…
A startup's 'Chief Evangelist' — known for his tailored suits and keynote speeches about disruption — is captured in the parking garage by colleagues pretending to be rival consultants speaking utter corporate nonsense. Blindfolded. Within minutes he's dictating voice memos naming every team member's weaknesses, forwarding private Slack messages, and describing the CEO as 'a whale to market share who devours up all the runway it finds.' When they unmask him, his colleagues are standing there with coffee. He's silent for a moment. Then: 'Who cannot be crushed with a Zoom?' He gets in his car and drives to Lafew's house to ask for a job.