He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. When you sally upon
him, speak what terrible language you will; though you understand it
not yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to understand him,
unless someone among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter.
He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. When you sally upon him, speak what terrible language you will; though you understand it not yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to understand him, unless someone among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter.
he can come no other way but by th's hedge-corner. when you sally upon him, speak what terrible language you will; though you understand it not yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to understand him, unless someone among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter.
He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. When you...
Good captain, let me be th’ interpreter.
Good captain, let me be th’ interpreter.
good captain, let me be th’ interpreter.
Good captain, let me be th’ interpreter.
Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not thy voice?
are not acquainted with him? Knows he not your voice?
're not acquainted with him? knows he not your voice?
are not acquainted with him? Knows he not your voice?
No sir, I warrant you.
No sir, I warrant you.
no sir, i warrant you.
No sir, I warrant you.
But what linsey-woolsey has thou to speak to us again?
But what linsey-woolsey has you to speak to us again?
but what linsey-woolsey has you to speak to us again?
But what linsey-woolsey has you to speak to us again?
E’en such as you speak to me.
E’en such as you speak to me.
e’en such as you speak to me.
E’en such as you speak to me.
He must think us some band of strangers i’ the adversary’s
entertainment. Now he hath a smack of all neighbouring languages,
therefore we must every one be a man of his own fancy; not to know what
we speak one to another, so we seem to know, is to know straight our
purpose: choughs’ language, gabble enough, and good enough. As for you,
interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! Here he comes;
to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies
he forges.
He must think us some band of strangers i’ the adversary’s entertainment. Now he has a smack of all neighbouring languages, therefore we must every one be a man of his own fancy; not to know what we speak one to another, so we seem to know, is to know straight our purpose: choughs’ language, gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! Here he comes; to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges.
he must think us some band of strangers i’ the adversary’s entertainment. now he has a smack of all neighbouring languages, therefore we must every one be a man of h's own fancy; not to know what we speak one to another, so we seem to know, 's to know straight our purpose: choughs’ language, gabble enough, and good enough. as for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. but couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges.
He must think us some band of strangers i’ the adversary’s entertainment....
Ten o’clock. Within these three hours ’twill be time enough to go home.
What shall I say I have done? It must be a very plausive invention that
carries it. They begin to smoke me, and disgraces have of late knock’d
too often at my door. I find my tongue is too foolhardy, but my heart
hath the fear of Mars before it, and of his creatures, not daring the
reports of my tongue.
Ten o’clock. Within these three hours ’twill be time enough to go home. What shall I say I have done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries it. They begin to smoke me, and disgraces have of late knock’d too often at my door. I find my tongue is too foolhardy, but my heart has the fear of Mars before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of my tongue.
ten o’clock. within these three hours ’twill be time enough to go home. what shall i say i 've done? it must be a very plausive invention that carries it. they begin to smoke me, and disgraces 've of late knock’d too often at my door. i find my tongue 's too foolhardy, but my heart has the fear of mars before it, and of h's creatures, not daring the reports of my tongue.
Ten o’clock. Within these three hours ’twill be time enough to go...
The most unsettling thing about the soliloquy in this scene (4-1-010) is that Parolles is not self-deceived. Other Shakespearean braggarts — Falstaff especially — exist in a haze of performative delusion. Parolles is clear-eyed. He knows his tongue is 'too foolhardy.' He knows his heart has 'the fear of Mars.' He knows the drum mission was impossible. He knows he needs a convincing lie. This is not a man who believes his own press — it's a man who has been running a deliberate performance and is now calculating whether the fraud can still be sustained. It makes the collapse in 4-3 both more and less tragic. More: because he chose this. Less: because he'll survive it, and with something like wisdom. Watch for his speech at the end of 4-3 — the most honest thing he says in the entire play.
guilty of.
guilty of.
guilty of.
guilty of.
What the devil should move me to undertake the recovery of this drum,
being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing I had no such
purpose? I must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in exploit;
yet slight ones will not carry it. They will say “Came you off with so
little?” and great ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what’s the
instance? Tongue, I must put you into a butter-woman’s mouth, and buy
myself another of Bajazet’s mule, if you prattle me into these perils.
What the devil should move me to undertake the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in exploit; yet slight ones will not carry it. They will say “Came you off with so little?” and great ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what’s the instance? Tongue, I must put you into a butter-woman’s mouth, and buy myself another of Bajazet’s mule, if you prattle me into these perils.
what the devil should move me to undertake the recovery of th's drum, being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing i had no such purpose? i must give myself some hurts, and say i got them in exploit; yet slight ones will not carry it. they will say “came you off with so little?” and great ones i d're not give. wherefore, what’s the instance? tongue, i must put you into a butter-woman’s mouth, and buy myself another of bajazet’s mule, if you prattle me into these perils.
What the devil should move me to undertake the recovery of this...
I would the cutting of my garments would serve the turn, or the
breaking of my Spanish sword.
I would the cutting of my garments would serve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.
i would the cutting of my garments would serve the turn, or the breaking of my spanish sword.
I would the cutting of my garments would serve the turn, or...
Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in stratagem.
Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in stratagem.
or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in stratagem.
Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in...
Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.
Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.
or to drown my clothes, and say i was stripped.
Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.
The gibberish language Shakespeare invents for this scene — 'Throca movousus,' 'Boskos thromuldo,' 'Oscorbidulchos volivorco' — is not random. Editors have speculated that some syllables echo actual Slavic roots or Mediterranean trader pidgins, but the consensus is that Shakespeare was having fun inventing something that sounds just plausible enough to fool a wishful ear. For an Elizabethan audience, foreign languages were simultaneously exotic and comic — the English theatre had a tradition of mangling French, Spanish, and Italian for laughs. What makes this scene genius is that the fake language reveals a truth: Parolles' entire identity has always been built on sounding like something he's not. His capture by nonsense is perfectly appropriate.
Though I swore I leap’d from the window of the citadel,—
Though I swore I leap’d from the window of the citadel,—
though i swore i leap’d from the window of the citadel,—
Though I swore I leap’d from the window of the citadel,—
Thirty fathom.
Thirty fathom.
thirty fathom.
Thirty fathom.
I would I had any drum of the enemy’s; I would swear I recover’d it.
I would I had any drum of the enemy’s; I would swear I recover’d it.
i would i had any drum of the enemy’s; i would swear i recover’d it.
I would I had any drum of the enemy’s; I would swear...
A drum now of the enemy’s!
A drum now of the enemy’s!
a drum now of the enemy’s!
A drum now of the enemy’s!
_Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo._
_Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo._
_throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo._
_Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo._
_Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo._
_Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo._
_cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo._
_Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo._
During Parolles' soliloquy, the First Lord and soldiers are hidden, watching — and the First Lord keeps interjecting asides to the audience. When Parolles proposes jumping from a thirty-fathom window, the Lord mutters 'How deep?' When Parolles claims he'd swear to it with oaths, the Lord says 'Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed.' The Lord is doing exactly what the audience is doing: rating each implausible plan, awarding it a score for hopelessness. This meta-theatrical structure — a character within the play commenting on another character's performance within the play — is very typical of All's Well. The play is obsessed with the gap between performance and reality, and here Shakespeare literalizes it: a man monologue-ing his own fraud, with a live critic in the wings.
O, ransom, ransom! Do not hide mine eyes.
O, ransom, ransom! Do not hide mine eyes.
o, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes.
O, ransom, ransom! Do not hide mine eyes.
_Boskos thromuldo boskos._
_Boskos thromuldo boskos._
_boskos thromuldo boskos._
_Boskos thromuldo boskos._
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’ll discover that which shall undo the Florentine.
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’ll discover that which shall undo the Florentine.
i know you 're 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’ll discover that which shall undo the florentine.
I know you are the Muskos’ regiment, And I shall lose my...
_Boskos vauvado._ I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue.
_Kerelybonto._ Sir, Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards
are at thy bosom.
_Boskos vauvado._ I understand you, and can speak your tongue. _Kerelybonto._ Sir, Betake you to your faith, for seventeen poniards are at your bosom.
_boskos vauvado._ i understand you, and can speak your tongue. _kerelybonto._ sir, betake you to your faith, for seventeen poniards 're at your bosom.
_Boskos vauvado._ I understand you, and can speak your tongue. _Kerelybonto._ Sir,...
O!
O!
o!
O!
O, pray, pray, pray!
_Manka revania dulche._
O, pray, pray, pray! _Manka revania dulche._
o, pray, pray, pray! _manka revania dulche._
O, pray, pray, pray! _Manka revania dulche._
_Oscorbidulchos volivorco._
_Oscorbidulchos volivorco._
_oscorbidulchos volivorco._
_Oscorbidulchos volivorco._
The General is content to spare thee yet;
And, hoodwink’d as thou art, will lead thee on
To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst inform
Something to save thy life.
The General is content to spare you yet; And, hoodwink’d as you are, will lead you on To gather from you. perhaps you may inform Something to save your life.
the general 's content to sp're you yet; and, hoodwink’d as you are, will lead you on to gather from you. perhaps you may inform something to save your life.
The General is content to spare you yet; And, hoodwink’d as you...
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.
O, let me live, And all the secrets of our camp I’ll show, Their force, their purposes; no, I’ll speak that Which you will wonder at.
o, let me live, and all the secrets of our camp i’ll show, their force, their purposes; no, i’ll speak that which you will wonder at.
O, let me live, And all the secrets of our camp I’ll...
The drum Parolles was sent to recover wasn't just a musical instrument — military drums were command-and-control technology. In Elizabethan warfare, drum patterns signaled advances, retreats, formations. Losing a regimental drum to the enemy was a genuine disgrace, because the enemy could then give false orders to your troops in battle. It was also a potent symbol of martial honor — the drum was literally the voice of the regiment. Bertram sending Parolles to retrieve it was already a questionable assignment for a man of Parolles' actual capabilities. Parolles knowing it was impossible and volunteering anyway tells you everything about his relationship with Bertram: it's built on performance and proximity to status, not genuine service.
But wilt thou faithfully?
But will you faithfully?
but will you faithfully?
But will you faithfully?
If I do not, damn me.
If I do not, damn me.
if i do not, damn me.
If I do not, damn me.
_Acordo linta._
Come on; thou art granted space.
_Acordo linta._ Come on; you are granted space.
_acordo linta._ come on; you 're granted space.
_Acordo linta._ Come on; you are granted space.
Go tell the Count Rossillon and my brother
We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled
Till we do hear from them.
Go tell the Count Rossillon and my brother We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled Till we do hear from them.
go tell the count rossillon and my brother we 've caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled till we do hear from them.
Go tell the Count Rossillon and my brother We have caught the...
Captain, I will.
Captain, I will.
captain, i will.
Captain, I will.
’A will betray us all unto ourselves;
Inform on that.
’A will betray us all unto ourselves; Inform on that.
’a will betray us all unto ourselves; inform on that.
’A will betray us all unto ourselves; Inform on that.
So I will, sir.
So I will, sir.
so i will, sir.
So I will, sir.
Till then I’ll keep him dark, and safely lock’d.
Till then I’ll keep him dark, and safely lock’d.
till then i’ll keep him dark, and safely lock’d.
Till then I’ll keep him dark, and safely lock’d.
The Reckoning
This is the scene everyone in the audience has been waiting for: the unmasking of Parolles, the great braggart and coward. What makes it funnier and darker than you expect is how fast it happens — within three lines of capture, Parolles is offering to sell out the entire Florentine army. The First Lord's running aside commentary turns the audience into co-conspirators, relishing every word. We leave the scene feeling both the sting of comedy and something more uncomfortable: what does it mean that the man was apparently self-aware the whole time?
If this happened today…
A tech startup's 'Chief Strategy Officer' has been bluffing his way through board meetings for two years. The founders have him shadowed by consultants who speak total nonsense — a fake language composed of random syllables and conference buzzwords. He's captured in the parking garage. Within thirty seconds, still blindfolded, he's offering to forward-slash the competitor's product roadmap, cc the venture capitalist's private emails, and 'share some insights' about his own CEO. The consultants exchange glances. This is going to be a long deposition.