Count. Marry, that's a bountiful answer, that fits all questions. Clo. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks; the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, or any buttock. Count. Will your answer serve fit to all questions? Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, as your French crown for your taffata punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's fore-finger, as a pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding quean to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's mouth; nay, as the pudding to his skin. Count. Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all questions? Clo. From below your duke, to beneath your constable, it will fit any question. Count. It must be an answer of most monstrous size, that must fit all demands. Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned should speak truth of it; here it is, and all that belongs to't: Ask me, if I am a courtier; it shall do you no harm to learn. Count. To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier? Clo. O Lord, sir,-There's a simple putting off; more, more, a hundred of them. Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours that loves you. Clo. O Lord, sir,-Thick, thick, spare not me. Count. I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. Clo. O Lord, sir,-Nay, put me to't, I warrant you. Count. You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. Count. Do you cry, O Lord, sir, at your whipping, and spare not me? Indeed, your O Lord, sir, is very sequent to your whipping; you would answer very well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. Clo. I ne'er had worse luck in my life, in myO Lord, sir: I see, things may serve long, but not And urge her to a present answer back: Clo. Not much commendation to them. Count. Not much employment for you: You understand me? Clo. Most fruitfully; I am there before my legs. SCENE III.-Paris. A Room in the King's Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. Laf. They say, miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons to make modern and familiar things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear. Par. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that hath shot out in our latter times. • Ordinary." Ber. And so 'tis. Laf. To be relinquished of the artists,- Laf. That gave him out incurable,- Pur. Right: as 'twere a man assured of an- Par. Just, you say well; so would I have said. actor. Par. That's it I would have said; the very same. Laf. Why, your dolphin' is not lustier: 'fore me, I speak in respect Par. Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he is of a most facinorous' spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the Laf. Very hand of heaven. Laf. In a most weak Par. And debile minister, great power, great transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made, than alone the recovery of the king, as to be Laf. Generally thankful. Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. Par. I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. Laf. Lustick, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: Why, he's able to lead her a coranto. Par. Mort du Vinaigre! Is not this Helen? Enter several Lords. Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel Hel. To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress King. Peruse them well: Heaven hath through me restor❜d the king to health. • The Dauphin. 1 Wicked. Lustigh is the Dutch word for lusty, cheerful. A docked horse. King. Who shuns thy love, shuns all his love in me. Hel. Make choice; and, see, | And these breed honor: that is honor's scorn, Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw ames-ace for my life. Hel. The honor, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, Before I speak, too threateningly replies: Love make your fortunes twenty times above Her that so wishes, and her humble love! 2 Lord. No better, if you please. Hel. My wish receive, Which great love grant! and so I take my leave. Laf. Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the Turk, to make eunuchs of. Hel. Be not afraid [To a Lord.] that I your hand should take; I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: Laf. These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: sure, they are bastards to the English; the French ne'er got them. Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good, To make yourself a son out of my blood. 4 Lord. Fair one, I think not so. Laf. There's one grape yet,-I am sure, thy father drank wine.-But if thou be'st not an ass, s, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already. Hel. I dare not say, I take you; [To BERTRAM.] but I give Me, and my service, ever whilst I live, Ber. My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your highness, In such a business give me leave to use King. Know'st thou not, Bertram, What she has done for me? Ber. Yes, my good lord; But never hope to know why I should marry her. King. Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. Ber. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down Must answer for your raising? I know her well; She had her breeding at my father's charge: A poor physician's daughter my wife!-Disdain Rather corrupt me ever! King. 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, The lowest chance of the dice. Hel. That you are well restor'd, my lord, I'm glad; Let the rest go. King. My honor's at the stake; which to defeat, I must produce my power: Here, take her hand, Proud, scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; That dost in vile misprision shackle up My love and her desert; that canst not dream, We, poising us in her defective scale, Shall weigh thee to the beam: that wilt not know, It is in us to plant thine honor, where We please to have it grow: Check thy contempt: Obey our will, which travails in thy good: Believe not thy disdain, but presently Do thine own fortunes that obedient right Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims; Or I will throw thee from my care for ever, Into the staggers, and the careless lapse Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate, Loosing upon thee in the name of justice, Without all terms of pity: Speak; thine answer. Ber. Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit My fancy to your eyes: When I consider, What great creation, and what dole of honor, Flies where you bid it, I find, that she, which late Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, Is, as 'twere, born so. King. Take her by the hand, And tell her, she is thine: to whom I promise A counterpoise; if not to thy estate, A balance more replete. Ber. I take her hand. King. Good fortune, and the favor of the king, Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, And be performed to-night: the solemn feast Shall more attend upon the coming space, Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her, Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. [Exeunt KING, BERTRAM, HELENA, Lords, and Attendants. Laf. Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. Par. Your pleasure, sir? Laf. Your lord and master did well to make his recantation. Par. Recantation?-my lord?-my master? Laf. Ay; Is it not a language, I speak! Par. A most harsh one; and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. My master? Laf. Are you companion to the count Rousillon? Par. To any count; to all counts; to what is man. Laf. To what is count's man; count's master is of another style. Par. You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. Laf. I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which title age cannot bring thee. Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do. Laf. I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel: it might pass: yet the scarfs, and the bannerets, about thee, did manifoldly dissuade me from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and that thou art scarce worth. Par. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee, Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial; which if-Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! So my good window of lattice, fare thee well: thy casement I need not open, for I look through thee. Give me thy hand. Par. My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. Laf. Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. Par. I have not, my lord, deserved it. Par. Ay, that would be known: To the wars, He wears his honor in a box unseen, my boy, to the wars! That hugs his kicksy-wicksy, here at home; Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I Which should sustain the bond and high curvet will not bate thee a scruple. Par. Well, I shall be wiser. Laf. E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf, and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge; that I may say, in the default, he is a man I know. Par. My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. Laf. I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor doing eternal: for doing I am past; as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave. [Exit. Par Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord!— Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him by my life, if I can meet him with any convenience, and he were double and double a lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I would have of-I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. Re-enter LAFEU. Laf. Sirrah, your lord and master's married, there's news for you; you have a new mistress. Par. I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of your wrongs: He is my good lord: whom I serve above is my master. Laf. Who? God? Par. Ay, sir. Laf. The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of thy sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honor, if I were but two hours younger, I'd beat thee; methinks, thou art a general offence, and every man should beat thee. I think, thou wast created for men to breathe' themselves upon thee. Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. Laf. Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords, and honorable personages, than the heraldry of your birth and virtue gives you commission. You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you. [Exit. i. e. While I sat twice with thee at dinner. Of Mars's fiery steed: To other regions! Ber. It shall be so; I'll send her to my house, And wherefore I am fled; write to the king Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, To the dark house, and the detested wife. Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art sure? Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. I'll send her straight away: To-morrow Par. Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. -"Tis hard; A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd: SCENE IV.-Another Room in the same. Enter HELENA and Clown. Hel. My mother greets me kindly: Is she well? Clo. She is not well; but yet she has her health: be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'the she's very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks world; but yet she is not well! Hel. If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's not very well? Clo. Truly, she's very well, indeed, but for two things. Hel. What two things? Clo. One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her quickly! the other, that she's in earth, from whence God send her quickly! Enter PAROLLES. Par. Bless you, my fortunate lady! Hel. I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortunes. Par. You had my prayers to lead them on: and to keep them on, have them still.-O, my knave! How does my old lady? Clo. So that you had her wrinkles, and I her money, I would she did as you say. Par. Why, I say nothing. Clo. Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing: To A cant term for a wife. The house made gloomy by discontent. say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a very little of nothing. Par. Away, thou'rt a knave. Clo. You should have said, sir, before a knave thou art a knave: that is, before me thou art a knave: this had been truth, sir. Par. Go to, thou art a witty fool, I have found thee. Clo. Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find 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; When I should take possession of the bride, Laf. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lies three thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and 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 out 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 Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with matter of heavy consequence: I have kept of them SCENE V.-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 approof. Laf. You have it from his own deliverance. Ber. And by other warranted testimony. Laf. Then my dial goes not true; I took this lark for a bunting." 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 valor; and my state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent. Here he comes; I make us friends, I will pursue the amity. Enter PAROLles. pray you, Par. These things shall be done, sir. [To BERTRAM. Laf. Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? Par. Sir? 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? Par. She is. tame, and know their natures.-Farewell, monsieur! I 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 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 procured 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 color 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. "Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so [Giving a letter. 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 eke out that, Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd To equal my great fortune. Let that go: Ber. My haste is very great: Farewell; hie home. Ber. [Aside to PAROLLES. But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal Ber. Will she away to-night? Par. As you'll have her. Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, Given order for our horses; and to-night, A specious appearance of necessity. yes; The bunting nearly resembles the sky-lark, but has Strangers, and foes, do sunder, and not kiss. little or no song, which gives estimation to the sky-lark. ⚫ Wonder. 1 Possess. Ber. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. | Go thou toward home; where I will never come, Farewell. ACT III. SCENE I.-Florence. A Room in the Duke's | have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make Palace. the not eternal. You shall hear, I am run away; know it, before the report come. If there be breadth Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. two French Lords, and others. Duke. So that, from point to point, now have you heard The fundamental reasons of.this war; And all the honors, that can fly from us, 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. My duty to you. BERTRAM. This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, 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? 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 Gentlemen. 1 Gent. Save you, good madam. Count. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, gentlemen, I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, 2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: We met him thitherward; from thence we came, Clo. By my troth, I take my young lord to be a And after some despatch in hand at court, very melancholy man. Thither we bend again. 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. he means to come. Count. Let me see what he writes, and when [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 of my Cupid's knocked out; and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. Hel. Look on this letter, madam; here's my passport. [Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my child begotten of thy body, that I am father to, then finger, which never shall come off, and show me a 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 thine, 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 is he? |