spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand3; but we must do good against evil.

Par. An idle lord, I swear.

Ber. I think so.

Par. Why, do you not know him?

[Exit.

Ber. Yes, I do know him well; and common speech Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

Enter HELENA.

Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, Spoke with the king, and have procur'd his leave For present parting; only he desires

Some private speech with you.

Ber.

I shall obey his will.

You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
The ministration and required office

On my particular: prepar'd I was not

For such a business; therefore am I found

So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat you,
That presently you take your way for home;
And rather muse than ask why I entreat you,
For my respects are better than they seem;
And my appointments have in them a need,
Greater than shows itself, at the first view,
To you that know them not. This to my mother.
[Giving a letter.

"Twill be two days ere I shall see you: so,

I leave you to your wisdom.

Sir, I can nothing say,

Hel.
But that I am your most obedient servant.
Ber. Come, come, no more of that.

Hel.

And ever shall

With true observance seek to eke out that,

3

than you have or will deserve at my hand;] So the folio, 1632; that of 1623 reads, superfluously, " than you have or will to deserve at my hand."

Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.

Ber.

Let that go:

My haste is very great. Farewell: hie home.
Hel. Pray, sir, your pardon.

Ber.

Well, what would you say?

Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe1;

Nor dare I say, 'tis mine, and yet it is,

But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.

Ber.

What would you have?

Hel. Something, and scarce so much :-nothing,

indeed.—

I would not tell you what I would, my lord-'faith,

yes;

Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss.

Ber. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. Where are my other men? monsieur, farewell. [Exit. Ber. Go thou toward home; where I will never

come,

Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the drum.—
Away! and for our flight.

Par.

Bravely, coragio! [Exeunt.

4 I am not worthy of the wealth I owE;] i.e. I own or am possessed of. See vol. ii. p. 45, note 1, and many other places where "owe" bears the same signification.

5 Where are my other men? monsieur, farewell.] This line, since the time of Theobald, has been transferred from Helena to Bertram, but, as Mr. Amyot agrees with me in thinking, without propriety. She inquires for her other attendants, and bids adieu to Parolles, whereas there is no reason why Bertram should take leave of Parolles. The punctuation of the old copy, though it be no rule, may be some guide, and there the line stands thus:

"Where are my other men? Monsieur, farewell."

Helena immediately afterwards makes her exit, as it is marked in the first and other folios, and so far the modern editors are correct.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Florence. A Room in the DUKE'S Palace.

Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, attended; two Frenchmen, and Soldiers.

Duke. So that, from point to point, now have you heard

The fundamental reasons of this war,

Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,

And more thirsts after.

1 Lord.

Holy seems the quarrel"

Upon your grace's part; black and fearful

On the opposer.

Duke. Therefore we marvel much our cousin France

Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom

Against our borrowing prayers.

Fr. Env.

Good my lord,

The reasons of our state I cannot yield,
But like a common and an outward man,
That the great figure of a council frames
By self-unable motion: therefore, dare not
Say what I think of it, since I have found
Myself in my uncertain grounds to fail
As often as I guess'd.

Be it his pleasure.

Duke.
Fr. Gent. But I am sure, the younger of our nature,

6 Holy seems the quarrel] This should seem to be the remark of a Florentine Lord; as in the old copies the "two Frenchmen" (so called in the introduction to the scene) are distinguished by "French E." and "French G.," perhaps French Envoy and French Gentleman, before what is assigned to them in the dialogue. Malone and the modern editors make no such distinction, but merely call them "1 Lord" and "2 Lord." The speech to which the present note applies is the only one given to "1 Lord" in the folios. These appear to be the same "French E." and "French G." who afterwards accompany Helena to Rousillon.

That surfeit on their ease, will day by day
Come here for physic.

Duke.

Welcome shall they be,

And all the honours that can fly from us

Shall on them settle. You know your places well;
When better fall, for your avails they fell.

To-morrow to the field.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Rousillon. A Room in the COUNTESS's Palace.

Enter COUNTESS and Clown.

Count. It hath happened all as I would have had it, save that he comes not along with her.

Clo. By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man.

Count. By what observance, I pray you?

Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing; mend the ruff, and sing'; ask questions, and sing; pick his teeth, and sing. I know a man, that had this trick of melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a songs.

Count. Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. [Opening a letter.

Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at court. Our old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: the brains

7

mend the ruff, and sing;] The tops of the boots, in our author's time, observes Whalley, turned down, and hung loosely over the leg. The folding may be what the Clown means by the ruff. Ben Jonson calls it ruffle. "Not having leisure to put off my silver spurs, one of the rowels catch'd hold of the ruffle of my boot." "Every man out of his Humour," Act iv. (Works by Gifford, vol. ii. p. 155.) Ruffs were also worn round the neck.

:

8 SOLD a goodly manor for a song.] The two oldest folios have hold instead of sold and in the writing of the time a long s might be mistaken for an h. If the expression had been "hold a goodly manor by a song," it would have shown that the reading of the oldest authorities was correct. To hold a manor by any suit or service, as Mr. Barron Field correctly observes to me, is the language of tenures.

of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach.

Count. What have we here?

Clo. E'en that you have there.

[Exit.

Count. [Reads.] "I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the not eternal. You shall hear, I am run away: know it before the report come. If there be breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you. "Your unfortunate son,

This is not well: rash and unbridled boy,
To fly the favours of so good a king!
To pluck his indignation on thy head,

By the misprizing of a maid, too virtuous
For the contempt of empire!

Re-enter Clown.

"BERTRAM."

Clo. O madam! yonder is heavy news within, between two soldiers and my young lady.

Count. What is the matter?

Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort: your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would.

Count. Why should he be kill'd?

Clo. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: the danger is in standing to 't; that's the loss of men, though it be the getting of children. Here they come will tell you more; for my part, I only hear your son was run away. [Exit Clown.

Enter HELENA and two French Gentlemen'.

Fr. Env. Save you, good madam.

9- and two French Gentlemen.] The same who had appeared in a former scene, and are now, in the old copies, called "French E." and "French G." i. e. perhaps, French Envoy and French Gentleman.

VOL. III.

S