thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast none, remember thy friends: get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: so farewell. [Exit. Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. What power is it, which mounts my love so high, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes, and kiss like native things, Impossible be strange attempts, to those That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose, What hath been cannot be: Who ever strove To show her merit, that did miss her love? The king's disease-my project may deceive me, But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me. [Exit. SCENE II.-Paris. A Room in the King's Palace. Flourish of Cornets. Enter the KING OF FRANCE with letters; Lords and others attending. King. The Florentines and Senoys' are by the ears; He hath arm'd our answer, And Florence is denied before he comes: Yet, for our gentlemen, that mean to see The Tuscan service, freely have they leave To stand on either part. 2 Lord. It may well serve A nursery to our gentry, who are sick For breathing and exploit. King. To-day in our young lords; but they may jest, In their poor praise he humbled: Such a man Ber. King. 'Would, I were with him! He would always say, (Methinks, I hear him now; his plausive words Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home, 2 Lord. You are lov'd, sir; They, that least lend it you, shall lack you first. King. I fill a place, I know't.-How long is't, What's he comes here? SCENE III.-Rousillon. A Room in the Coun Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. 1 Lord. It is the count Rousillon, my good lord, Young Bertram. King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts Mavst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. . Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's. King. I would I had that corporal soundness now, As when thy father, and myself, in friendship First try'd our soldiership! He did look far Into the service of the time, and was Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; But on us both did haggish age steal on, And wore us out of act. It much repairs me To talk of your good father: In his youth He had the wit, which I can well observe Things formed by nature for each other. tess's Palace. Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown. Count. I will now hear: what say you of this gentlewoman? Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your content," I wish might be found in the calendar of my past endeavors; for then we wound our modesty, and make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of ourselves we publish them. Count. What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: The complaints, I have heard of you, I do not all believe: 'tis my slowness, that I do not: for, I know, you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours. Clo. "Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. Count. Well, sir. Clo. No, madam, 'tis not so well, that I am poor; The citizens of the small republic of which Sienna is though many of the rich are damned: But, if I may the capital. • Approbation. To act up to your desires. have your ladyship's good will to go to the world,' Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar? Clo. In Isbel's case, and mine own. Service is no heritage and, I think, I shall never have the blessing of God, till I have issue of my body; for, they say, bearns are blessings. Count. Tell me the reason why thou wilt marry. Clo. My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go, that the devil drives. Count. Is this all your worship's reason? Clo. Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are. Count. May the world know them? Clo. I have been, madam, a wicked creature; as you and all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry, that I may repent. Count. Thy marriage, sooner than thy wicked ness. Clo. I am out of friends, madam; and I hope to have friends for my wife's sake. Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave. Clo. You are shallow, madam; e'en great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am a-weary of. He, that ears my land, spares my team, and gives me leave to inn the crop: If I be his cuckold, he's my drudge: He, that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he, that cherishes my flesh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he, that loves my flesh and blood, is my friend: ergo,' he that kisses my wife, is my friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; for young Charbon the puritan, and old Poysam the papist, how so'eer their hearts are several in religion, their heads are both one, they may joll horns together, like any deer i' the herd. Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave? world so all the year! we'd find no fault with the tythe-woman, if I were the parson: One in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good woman born but every blazing star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well; a man may draw his heart out ere he pluck one. Count. You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you? Clo. That man should be at woman's command, and yet no hurt done!-Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. [Exit Clown. Count. Well, now. Stew. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. Count. Indeed, I do; her father bequeathed her to me; and she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully make title to as much love as she finds: there is more owing her, than is paid; and more shall be paid her, than she'll demand. Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her than, I think, she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate to herself, her own words to her own ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put such difference betwixt their two estates; Love, no god, that would not extend his might, only where qualities were level: Diana, no queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight to be surprised, without rescue, in the first assault, or ransome afterwards: This she delivered in the most bitter touch of sorrow, that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I held my duty, speedily to acquaint you withal; sithence,' in the loss that may happen, it concerns you something to know it. Count. You have discharged this honestly; keep it to yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this before, which hung so tottering in the balance, that I could neither believe, nor misdoubt: Pray Clo. A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth you, leave me; stall this in your bosom, and I the next way: thank you for your honest care: I will speak with Enter HELENA. Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; none. Her eye is sick on't; I observe her now. I am a mother to you. Hel. Mine honorable mistress. Count. 1 Since. To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, Count. Nor I your mother? Hel. You are my mother, madam; 'Would you were (So that my lord, your son, were not my brother,) God shield, you mean it not! daughter, and mother Hel. Good madam, pardon me! Count. Do you love my son! Hel. Your pardon, noble mistress! Count. Love you my son? Hel. Do not you love him, madam? Count. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose The state of your affection; for your passions Have to the full appeach'd. Hel. Then I confess, Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love. i. e. I care as much for: I wish it equally. • Contend. The source, the cause of your grief. And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, Madam, I had. For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king, Had, from the conversation of my thoughts, Haply, been absent then. Count. But think you, Helen, If you should tender your supposed aid, He would receive it? He and his physicians Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him; They, that they cannot help: How shall they credit A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, Embowell'd of their doctrine,' have left off The danger to itself? Hel. There's something hints, More than my father's skill, which was the greatest Of his profession, that his good receipt Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honor But give me leave to try success, I'd venture Count. Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave, Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings ⚫ Appearance. [Exeunt. • Exhausted of their skill ACT II. SCENE I.-Paris. A Room in the King's Palace. Flourish. Enter KING, with young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and Attendants. King. Farewell, young lord, these warlike principles Do not throw from you:-and you, my lord, farewell: Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all, 1 Lord. It is our hope, sir, After well-enter'd soldiers, to return King. No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart 2 Lord. Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! King. Those girls of Italy, take heed of them; They say, our French lack language to deny, If they demand: beware of being captives, Before you serve. Both. Our hearts receive your warnings. King. Farewell.-Come hither to me. [The KING retires to a couch. 1 Lord. O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark— 2 Lord. O, 'tis brave wars. Par. Most admirable: I have seen those wars. Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with Too young, and the next year, and 'tis too early. Par. An thy mind stand to it, boy, steal away bravely. Ber. I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, Till honor be bought up, and no sword worn, But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away. 1 Lord. There's honor in the theft. Par. Commit it, count. 2 Lord. I am your accessary; and so farewell. Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. Lord. Farewell, captain. 2 Lord. Sweet monsieur Parolles! Par. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals:You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii, one captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his reports for me. 2 Lord. We shall, noble captain. Par. Mars dote on you for his novices! [Exeunt Lords.] What will you do? Ber. Stay: the king— [Seeing him rise. Par. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble i. e. The Roman empire. Seeker, enquirer. Be not captives before you are soldiers. 1 In a bustle. Laf. Pardon, my lord, [Kneeling.] for me and for my tidings. King. I'll fee thee to stand up. Laf. Then here's a man Stands, that has brought his pardon. I would, you Had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy; and That, at my bidding, you could so stand up. King. I would I had; so I had broke thy pate And ask'd thee mercy for't. Laf. Good faith, across :" But, my good lord, 'tis thus; Will you be cur'd Of your infirmity? King. Laf. No. will, O, will you eat No grapes, my royal fox? yes, but you My noble grapes, an if my royal fox Could reach them: I have seen a medicine," That's able to breathe life into a stone; Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary, With sprightly fire and motion; whose simple touch Is powerful to araise king Pepin, nay, To give great Charlemain a pen in his hand, And write to her a love-line. 4 King. If you will see her,-now, by my faith and honor, King. Nay I'll fit you, [Exit LAFEU. And not be all day neither. Re-enter LAFEU with HELENA. Laf. Nay, come your ways. This haste hath wings indeed. They are the foremost in the fashion. 1 The dance. 2 Unskilfully; a phrase taken from the exercise at a quintain. A female physician. A kind of dance. I am like Pandarus. King. Now, fair one, does your business follow us? Hel. Ay, my good lord. Gerard de Narbon was My father, in what he did profess, well found. King. I knew him. Hel. The rather will I spare my praises towards him; Knowing him, is enough. On his bed of death King. We thank you, maiden; But may not be so credulous of cure,When our most learned doctors leave us; and The congregated college have concluded That laboring art can never ransom nature From her inaidable estate,-I say we must not So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, To prostitute our past-cure malady To empirics; or to dissever so Our great self and our credit, to esteem A senseless help, when help past sense we deem. King. I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give, As one near death to those that wish him live: Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try, From simple sources; and great seas have dried, Thy pains not uesd, must by thyself be paid: Ere twice in murk and occidental damp Tax of impudence, King. Methinks, in thee some blessed spirit doth speak; His powerful sound, within an organ weak: In common sense, sense saves another way. Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property Hel. What husband in thy power I will command: To choose from forth the royal blood of France; King. Here is my hand; the premises observ'd, rest Unquestion'd welcome, and undoubted blest.- SCENE II-Rousillon. A Room in the Countess' Palace. Enter COUNTESS and Clown. Count. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your breeding. Clo. I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I know my business is but to the court. Count. To the court! why, what place make you special, when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court! Clo. Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he may easily put it off at court; he that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand, and say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and, indeed, such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the court: but, for me, I have an answer will serve all men. |