Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know,
It is in us to plant thine honour, 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

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

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 honour,
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 counterpoize; if not to thy estate,
A balance more replete.

King. Good fortune, and the favour of the king, Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the new-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 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 hou hasten thy trial;-which if-Lord have mercy in thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, are 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. Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it and I 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.

him with any convenience, an 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 honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'd beat him: 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 I will not bed her. [sworn,

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! Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the know not yet. [import is, Par. Ay, that would be known: To the wars, my boy, to the wars!

I

He wears his honour in a box unseen,
That hugs his kicksy-wicksy here at home;
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should sustain the bound and high cui vet
Of Mars's 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 me. I'll send her straight away: To-morrow I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.

Par. 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.

Par. Bless you, my fortunate lady! Hel. I hope, sir, I have your good will to mine own good fortunes.

have

and

Par. You had my prayers to lead them on 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

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,
To make the coming hour o'er-flow with joy,
And pleasure drown the brim.

Hel.

What's his will else? Par. That you will take your instant leave o'the king,

And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
Strengthen'd with what apology you think
May make it probable need.

Hel.
What more commands he?
Par. That, having this obtain'd, you presently
Attend his further pleasure.
Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will.
Par. I shall report it so.
Hel.

I pray you.-Come, sirrah.
[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. Luf. 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 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.

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? [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 treasure, Given order for our horses; and to-night, When I should take possession of the bride,And, ere I do begin,

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 matter of heavy consequence; I have kept 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?

[Erit.

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 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, Which holds not colour 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: [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 shal 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: My haste is very great: Farewell; hie home Hel. Pray, sir, your pardon.

Ber.

Par.

Bravely, coragio!

The fundamental reasons of this war;
Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
And more thirsts after.

1 Lord.

Holy seems the quarrel Upon your grace's part; black and fearful On the opposer.

Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin
France

Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom
Against our borrowing prayers.

2 Lord.
Good my lord,
The reasons of our state I cannot yield,
But like a common and an outward man,
That the great figure of a council frames
By self-unable motion: therefore dare not
Say what I think of it; since I have found
Myself in my uncertain grounds to fail
As often as I guess'd.

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,
Come here for physick.

Duke.

Welcome shall they be; And all the honours, that can fly from us, Shall on them settle. You know your places well; When better fall, for your avails they fell. To-morrow to the field. [Flourish. Exeunt. 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.

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 he means to come. Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at [Opening a letter. court; our old ling and our Isbels o' the country ere 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.

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.

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.

Count. Why should he be kill'd?

he does: the danger is in standing to't; that's the Clo. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear 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 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,
That the first face of neither, on the start,

Can woman me unto't :-Where is my son, I pray you?

2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: We met him thitherward; from thence we came, And, after some despatch in hand at court, Thither we bend again.

Hel. Look on his letter, madam; here's my pass

port.

[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? And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains. 1 Gen. Ay, madam ; 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?

2 Gen. Ay, madam. Count.

Ay, madam.