in you, even to the world's pleasure, and the increase of laughter. Par. A good knave, i'faith, and well fed.Madam, my lord will go away to-night; A very serious business calls on him. The great prerogative and rite of love, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; But puts it off by a compell'd restraint; Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with sweets, Which they distil now in the curbed time, Hel. Hel. Par. That, having this obtain'd, you preAttend his further pleasure. What more commands he? [sently Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will. Par. I shall report it so. Hel. SCENE V. I pray you.-Come, sirrah, [Exeunt. Another Room in the same. Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM. Laf. But, I hope, your lordship thinks not him a soldier. Ber. Yes, my lord, and of very valiant ap. proof. Laf. You have it from his own deliverance. Ber. And by other warranted testimony. Laf. Then my dial goes not true; I took his lark for a bunting t. Ber. I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in knowledge, and accordingly valiant. Laf. I have then sinned against his experience, and transgressed against his valour; and my state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent. Here he comes; I pray you, make us friends, I will pursue the amity. Enter PAROLLES. Laf. O, I know him well: Ay, sir; he, sir, is a good workman, a very good tailor. Ber. Is she gone to the king? [Aside to PAROLLES. sand nothings with, should be once heard, aud thrice beaten.-God save you, captain. Ber. Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur? Par. I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's displeasure. Laf. You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and ont of it you'll run again, rather than suffer question for your residence. Ber. It may be, you have mistaken him, my lord. Laf. And shall do so ever, though I took him at his prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes: trust him not in matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them tame, and know their natures.-Farewell, monsieur: 1 have spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. [Exit. Par. An idle lord, I swear. Ber. I think so. Par. Why, do you not know him? Ber. Yes, I do know him well; and com mon speech [clog. Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my Enter HELENA. Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, [leave Spoke with the king, and have procured his 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 The ministration and required office [does On my particular: prepared I was not For such a business; therefore am I found [you, So much unsettled: This drives me to entreat That presently you take your way for home; And rather muset, 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. Hel. Sir, I can nothing say, But that I am your most obedient servant. Ber. Come, come, no more of that. Hel. And ever shall With true observance seek to cke out that, Wherein toward me my homely stars have To equal my great fortune. [fail'd 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 owej; Nor dare I say, 'tis mine; and yet it is; But, like a timorous thief, most fain would What law does vouch mine own. [steal A specious appearance of necessity. + The bunting nearly resembles the sky-lark: but has little or no song, which gives estimation to the sky-lark. Wonder. Possess. SCENE I. ACT Florence. A Room in the Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, The fundamental reasons of this war; [Exit. at court: our old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing like your old ling and your knocked out; and I begin to love, as an old Isbels o' the court: the brains of my Cupid's man loves money, with no stomach. Count. What have we here? Clo. E'en that you have there. Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daugh letter-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, [forth, Duke. Be it his pleasure. 2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of cur That surfeit on their ease, will, day by day, When better fall, for your avails they fell: 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 song. 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 i. e., I cannot inform you of the reasons. As we say at present, our young fellows. Your unfortunate son, BERTRAM. Re-enter Clown. 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 killed? run away. 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 [Exit Clown. Enter HELENA and two Gentlemen. 1 Gent. Save you, good madam. Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gent. Do not say so. [gentlemen,Count. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, That the first face of neither, on the start, Can woman me unto't: Where is my son, [of Florence: pray you? 2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke We met him thitherward; from thence we + One not in the secret of affairs. The folding at the top of the boot. i. e., Affect me suddenly and deeply, as our sex are usually affected. upon my finger*, which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body, that I am father to, then call me husband: but in such a then I write a never. This is a dreadful sentence. Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen? 1 Gent. Ay, madam; And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains. Count. I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer; If thou engrossest all the griefs are thinet, Thou robb'st me of a moiety: He was my son; But I do wash his name out of my blood, And thou art all my child.-Towards Florence 2 Gent. Ay, madani. [is he? Count. 2 Gent. Such is his noble purpose: and, believe't, And to be a soldier? 1 Gent. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. Hel. [Reads.] Till I have no wife, I have 'Tis bitter. [nothing in France. Count. Find you that there? Hel. Ay, madam. 1 Gent. Tis but the boldness of his haud, haply, which His heart was not consenting to. [wife! Count. Nothing in France, until he have no There's nothing here, that is too good for him, But only she; and she deserves a lord, That twenty such rude boys might tend upon, And call her hourly, mistress. Who was with him? 1 Gent. A servant only, and a gentleman Which I have some time known. Count. Parolles, was't not? 1 Gent. Ay, my good lady, he. Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. My son corrupts a well-derived nature 1 Gent. Count. You are welcome, gentlemen; 2 Gent. We serve you, madam, In that and all your worthiest affairs. Count. Not so, but as we change our Will you draw near? [courtesiest. [Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. Nothing in France, until he has no wife! Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France, Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I That chase thee from thy country, and expose Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, BER TRAM, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others. Duke. The general of our horse thou art ; and we, [dence, Great in our hope, lay our best love and creUpon thy promising fortune. Ber. Sir, it is A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake, To the extreme edge of hazard. Duke. Then go thou forth; And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, As thy auspicious mistress! This very day, Ber. Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: [prove Make me but like my thoughts; and I shall A lover of thy drum, hater of love.. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's Palace. Enter Countess and Steward. Count. Alas! and would you take the letter [has done, Might you not know, she would do as she By sending me a letter? Read it again. of her? Stew. Iam Saint Jaques' pilgrim; thither gone; Ambitious love hath so in me offended, That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon, With sainted vow my faults to have amended. i. e., When you can get the ring which is on my finger into your possession. t If thou keepest all thy sorrows to thyself. In reply to the gentlemen's declaration that they are her servants, the countess answers-no otherwise than as she returns the same offices of civility. Ravenous. Write, write, that, from the bloody course of war, My dearest master,your dear son may hie; Rinaldo, you did never lack advice † so much, Stew. Pardon me, madam : If I had given you this at over-night, She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, Pursuit would be in vain. Count. What angel shall Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear, And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak; Wid. Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we shall lose all the sight. Dia. They say, the French count has done most honourable service. Wid. It is reported that he has taken their greatest commander; and that with his own. hand he slew the duke's brother. We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. Mar. Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty. Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have been solicited by a gentleman his companion. Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young earl.-Beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are not the things they go under : many a maid hath been seduced by them; and the inisery is, example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but, I hope, your own grace will keep you where you are, though there were no further danger known, but the modesty which is so lost. Dia. You shall not need to fear me. Enter HELENA, in the dress of a Pilgrim. Wid. I hope so.Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at my house: thither they send one another: I'll question her. God save yon, pilgrim! Whither are you bound? Where do the palmers¶ lodge, I do beseech you? I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; Is it yourself? Wid. You came, I think, from France? Hel. I did so. Wid. Here you shall see a countryman of That has done worthy service. [yours, Hel. His name, I pray you. Dia. The count Rousillon; Know you such a one? [of him: Hel. But by the ear, that hears most nobly His face I know not. Dia. Dia. Monsieur Parolles. What's his name? O, I believe with him In argument of praise, or to the worth Of the great count himself, she is too mean To have her name repeated; all her deserving Is a reserved honesty, and that * Alluding to the story of Hercules. + Discretion or thought. Weigh here means to value or esteem. Temptations. They are not the things for which their names would make them pass. Pilgrims; so called from a staff or bough of palm they were wont to carry, * Because. The exact, the entire truth. I have not heard examined. Dia. Alas, poor lady! 'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife Of a detesting lord. Wid. A right good creature: wheresoe'er How do you mean? Wid. He does, indeed; Enter with drum and colours, a party Mar. The gods forbid else! So, now they come:- Which is the Frenchman? Hel. That leads him to these places; were I his lady, Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'the battle. 1 Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble. Ber. Do you think, I am so far deceived in him? 1 Lord. Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him as my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's enter. tainment. 2 Lord. It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might, at some great and trusty business, in a main danger, fail you. Ber. I would, I knew in what particular action to try him. 2 Lord. None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. 1 Lord. I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly surprise him; such I will have, whom, I am sure, he knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hood-wink him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is carried into the leaguer ‡ of the adversaries, when we bring him to our tents: Be but your lordship present at his examination; if he do not, for the promise of his life, and in the highest compulsion of base fear, offer to betray you, and deliver all the intelligence in his power against you, and that with the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never trust my judgment in any thing. 2 Lord. O for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; he says, he has a stratagem for't: when your lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to what metal this coun terfeit lump of ore will be melted, if you give Mar. He's shrewdly vexed at something: him not John Drum's entertainment, your inLook, he has spied us. Wid. Marry, hang you! Mar. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! [Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Officers, and Soldiers. Wid. The troop is past: Come, pilgrim, I will bring you Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents. Hel. Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, We'll take your offer kindly. SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. Enter BERTRAM, and the two French Lords. 1 Lord. Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his way. 2 Lord. If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your respect. clining cannot be removed. Here he comes. Enter PAROLLES. 1 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not the humour of his design; let him fetch off his drum in any hand. Ber. How now, monsieur? this drum sticks sorely in your disposition. 2 Lord. A pox on't let it go; 'tis but a drum. Par. But a drum! Is't but a drum? A drum so lost! There was an excellent command! to charge in with our horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers. 2 Lord. That was not to be blamed in the command of the service; it was a disaster of war that Cæsar himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to command. Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is not to be recovered. Par. It might have been recovered. Ber. It might, but it is not now. Par. It is to be recovered: but that the merit of service is seldom attributed to the true and exact performer, I would have that drum or another, or hic jacet §. Ber. Why, if you have a stomach to❜t, mon A paltry fellow, a coward. |