Mojo, The Bard, & Me

 

And I shall lose my life for want of language:

-Parolles

All’s Well That Ends Well     Act IV, Scene i, Line 68

 

To hear Parolles talk in this scene, one would think that he was modeled a bit in the shape of Falstaff. In any event, the setting is a military action and the men who have just captured Parolles, though unknown to him, are of his own regiment. They are pretending to be of a different country and they are speaking gibberish so as to trick Parolles into telling him what they want.

Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.

Villianda par corbo, cargo.

Boskos thromuldo boskos.

 Parolles responds,

I know that you are Musko’s regiment;

And I shall lose my life for want of language:

If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch,

Italina, or French, let him speak to me; I’ll

Discover that which shall undo the Florentine.

 

I’m not sure if Musko has something to do with Russian and Moscow or not, But it sure sounds like it.

Have you ever felt like you would lose your life for want of language? I’m not sure about losing my life, but I know that there have been times when I wisht I had a better command of language; usually English, but occasionally another language. 

Here's someone who had a superior knowledge of languages. This young lady was working in the Norwegian Folk Museum that we visited. The tourists there were very multi-national and in the short time that we were there several different groups showed up. She greeted and conversed with each group, including us, in their native tongue. And she gave us a cup of coffee. Very, very impressive.