Or I will throw thee from my care for ever, Into the staggers, and the careless lapse [hate, Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and Loosing upon thee in the name of justice, Without all terms of pity: Speak; thine an swer. Ber. Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit My fancy to your eyes: When I consider, What great creation, and what dole of honour, Flies where you bid it, I find, that she, which late Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now King. Take her by the hand, And tell her, she is thine: to whom I promise Ber. I take her hand. King. Good fortune, and the favour of the king, Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, And be perform'd 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 Laf. To what is count's man; count's master is of another style. Pur. You are too old, Sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. to Laf. I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man 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 å 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. I will not bate thee a scruple. Pur. Well, I shall be wiser. 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, an he were double and double a lord. 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. I'll 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? 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 honour, if I were hut 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 honourable 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. Enter BERTRAM. Par. Good, very good; it is so then.-Good, very good; let it be concealed a while. Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! Par. What is the matter, sweet heart? Ber. Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, I will not bed her. Par. What? what, sweet heart? Ber. O my Parolles, they have married me :--I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! Par. Ay, that would be known: To the wars, my boy, to the wars! He wears his honour in a box unseen, Laf. E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast Which should sustain the bound and high curvet Of Mars' fiery steed: To other regions! France is a stable; we that dwell in't, jades; Therefore, to the war! Ber. It shall be so; I'll send her to my house, Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, And wherefore I am fled; write to the king That which I durst not speak: His present gift Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, Where noble fellows strike; War is no strife 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 I'll send her straight away: To-morrow [me. I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. Pur. Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it.-Tis hard; A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd: Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: The king has done you wrong; but, hush! 'tis so. [Exeunt. SCENE IV.-The same.-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 she's very merry; but yet she is not well but thanks be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'the 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 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; Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with sweets, The house made gloomy by discontent. Which they distil now in the curbed time, Hel. What's his will else? Par. That you will take your instant leave o' the king, [ing, And make this haste as your own good proceedStrengthen'd with what apology you think May make it probable need.* Hel. What more commands he? Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will. [Exeunt. 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.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 1 cannot yet find in my heart to repent. Here he comes; I pray you, make us friends, I will pursue the amity. treasure, Given order for our horses; and to-night, When I should take possession of the bride,And, ere I do begin, latter end of a dinner; but one that lies threeLaf. A good traveller is something at the thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten.-God save you, captain. lord and you, monsieur? Ber. Is there any unkindness between my 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 clothes: trust him not in matter of heavy conthis light nut; the soul of this man is his sequence; I have kept of them tame, and know their natures.-Farewell, monsieur: I have 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. you, That presently you take your way for home; Hel. Sir, I can nothing say,, But that I am your most obedient servant. With true observance seek to eke out that, Ber. Let that go: My haste is very great: Farewell; hie home. Ber. Well, what would you say? Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe ;t 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. horse. Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. 1 Lord. Holy seems the quarrel Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom 2 Lord. Good my lord, The reasons of our state I cannot yield,* Duke. Be it his pleasure. 2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of our nature,+ That surfeit on their ease, will, day by day, Duke. Welcome shall they be; And all the honours, that can fly from us, When better fall, for your avails they fell: 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 song. Count. Let me see what he writes, and when [Opening a letter. he means to come. 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. me. [Exit. Count. What have we here? Clo. E'en that you have there. Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daughterin-law: she hath recovered the king, and undone I have wedded her, not bedded her; and You shall hear, sworn to make the not eternal. 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, Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur?Farewell. [Exit HELENA. Go thou toward home; where I will never come, This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the To fly the favours of so good a king; Away, and for our flight. [drum:- To pluck his indignation on thy head, Par. Bravely, coragio! [Exeunt. By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous For the contempt of empire. ACT III. SCENE 1.-Florence-A Room in the DUKE'S Palace. The fundamental reasons of this war; [forth, 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. * I. e. I cannot inform you of the reasons. As we say at present, our young fellows. Enter HELENA and two GENTLEMEN. 1 Gen. Save you, good madam. Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gen. Do not say so. Count. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, gentlemen, I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, 2 Gen. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: [came, We met him thitherward; from thence we And, after some despatch in hand at court, Thither we bend again. Hel. Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. [Reads.] When thou canst get the ring 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 Gen. Ay, madam; [pains. And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our 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? 1 Gen. Indeed, good lady, The fellow has a deal of that, too much, Which holds him much to have. Count. You are welcome, gentlemen, I will entreat you, when you see my son, To tell him, that his sword can never win The honour that he loses : more I'll entreat you Written to bear along. 2 Gen. We serve you, madam, In that and all your worthiest affairs. Count. Not so, but as we change our courteWill you draw near? [sies.* [Exeunt COUNTESS and GENTLEMEN. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. Nothing in France, until he has no wife! Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, My being here it is, that keeps thee hence: [Exit. Might you not know, she would do as she has done, By sending me a letter? Read it again. mildest words! Rinaldo, you did never lack advicet so much, If I had given you this at over-night, Count. What angel shall Bless this unworthy husband ? he cannot thrive, Unless her prayers, whom Heaven delights to hear, And loves to grant, reprive him from the wrath Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. | rolles: a filthy officer he is in those suggestions" 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 maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty. a Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have been solicited by a gentleman his com panion. Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one Pa * Alluding to the story of Hercules. + Discretion or thought. Weigh here means to value or esteem. a one? Hel. But by the ear, that hears most nobly His face I know not. [of him: Dia. Whatsoe'er he is, He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, As 'tis reported, for the king had married him Against his liking: Think you it is so? Hel. Ay, surely, mere the truth;|| I know his lady. Dia. There is a gentleman, that serves the I have not heard examin'd. Wid. A right good creature: wheresoe'er she is, Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd. [do her |