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 art 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; Ber. I do assure you, my lord, he is very great 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; make us friends. I will pursue the amity. Enter Parolles. Par. These things shall be done, sir. pray you, [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? [Aside to Parolles. Par. She is. Ber. Will she away to-night? Par. As you'll have her. Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my trea sure, Given order for our horses; and to-night, Laf. A good traveller is something at the lat ter 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 matter of heavy consequence; I have kept Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with of them 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. 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 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, The ministration and required office Which holds not colour with the time, nor does 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,3 than ask, why I entreat you: For my respects are better than they seem; And my appointments have in them a need, but has little or no song, which gives estimation to the sky-lark. (3) Wonder. Greater than shows itself, at the first view, To equal my great fortune. Let that go: My haste is very great: Farewell; hie home. Well, what would you say? 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. Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur?— || Bravely, coragio! [Exe. Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom 2 Lord. Duke. Be it his pleasure. And all the honours, that can fly from us, Count. By what observance, I pray you? Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing; mend the ruff,5 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 [Exit. Count. What have we here? Clo. E'en that you have there. Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daughter-inlaw: 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, BERTRAM. 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. 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 Gentlemen. Gent. Save you, good madam. Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gent. Do not say so. Count. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, gentlemen, I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, I 2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of our na- Can woman6 me unto't ::-Where is my son, I pray ture,4 That surfeit on their ease, will, day by day, Come here for physic. Duke. (1) Possess. Welcome shall they be; (2) i. e. I cannot inform you of the reasons. (3) One not in the secret of affairs. (4) As we say at present, our young fellows. Thither we bend again. Hel. Look on this 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? Find you that there? Hel. His heart was not consenting to. Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife! My son corrupts a well-derived nature 1 Gent. Indeed, good lady, The fellow has a deal of that, too much, Count. You are welcome, gentlemen. I will entreat you, when you see my son, 2 Gent. [Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France. Nothing in France, until he has no wife! (1) 1. e. When you can get the ring, which is on my finger, into your possession. (2) If thou keepest all thy sorrows to thyself. (3) In reply to the gentlemen's declaration, that they are her servants, the countess answers-no That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou [Exit. Sir, it is Then go thou forth; Ber. This very day, Might you not know, she would do as she has done, Stew. I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gones From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest Rinaldo, you did never lack advices so much, otherwise than as she returns the same offices of civility. (4) Ravenous. (5) Alluding to the story of Hercules. As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her, Stew. Pardon me, madam : Count. SCENE V-Without the walls of Florence. 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 suggestions2 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 :3 many a maid hath been seduced by them; and the misery 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. (1) Weigh, here means to value or esteem. (3) They are not the things for which their names would make them pass. Dia. Hel. Ay, surely, mere the truth; I know his Dia. There is a gentleman that serves the count, Reports but coarsely of her. Hel. Dia. Monsieur Parolles. What's his name? O, I believe with him, Alas, poor lady! Wid. A right good creature: wheresoe'er she is, Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd. Wid. Enter with drum and colours, a party of the Hel. He; Mar. He's shrewdly vex'd at something: Look, lost?-There was an excellent command! to he has spied us. Wid. Marry, hang you! Mar. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! Wid. The troop is past: Come, pilgrim, I will Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents Hel. We'll take your offer kindly. [Exe. 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. 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.3 Ber. Why, if you have a stomach to't, monsieur, if you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument of honour again into his native quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprize, and go on; I will grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it, and extend to you what further becomes his hild-greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your worthiness. 1 Lord. Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his way. 2 Lord. If your lordship find him not a ing, hold me no more in your respect. Par. By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. Ber. But you must not now slumber in it. Par. I'll about it this evening: and I will presently pen down my dilemmas,4 encourage myself my certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation, and, by midnight, look to hear further from me. Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his grace, you are gone about it? 1 Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble. Ber. Dayou think I am so far deceived in him? 1 Lor 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 infi-in nite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's entertainment. 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. Par. I know not what the success will be, my lord; but the attempt I vow. Ber. I know thou art valiant; and, to the possibility of thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. Par. I love not many words. better be damned than to do't." [Exit. 2 Lord. You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it is, that he will steal himself into a man's favour, and, for a week, escape a great deal of discoveries; but when you find him out, you have him ever after. 1 Lord. No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a strange fellow, my lord? that so confidently seems to undertake this business, which he knows 1 Lord. I, with a troop of Florentines, will sud-is not to be done; damns himself to do, and dares denly 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 leaguer2 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 counterfeit lump of ore will be melted, if you give him not John Drum's entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes. Enter Parolles. 1 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not (1) A paltry fellow, a coward. (2) The camp. (3) I would recover the lost drum or another, or die in the attempt. Ber. Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of this, that so seriously he does address himself unto? 1 Lord. None in the world; but return with an invention, and clap upon you two or three proba. ble lies: but we have almost embossed him, you shall see his fall to-night; for, indeed, he is not for your lordship's respect. 2 Lord. We'll make you some sport with the fox, ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very night. 1 Lord. I must go look my twigs; he shall be caught. (4) I will pen down my plans, and the probable obstructions. (5) Hunted him down. (6) Strip him naked. |