simple of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the entail from all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it perpetually. 1 Sold. What's his brother, the other captain Dumain ? 2 Lord. Why does he ask him of me? 1 Sold. What's he? Par. E'en a crow of the same nest; not altogether so great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: In a retreat he out-runs any lackey; marry, in coming on he has the cramp. 1 Sold. If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine ? Par. Ay, and the captain of his horse, count Rousillon. 1 Sold. I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. Par. I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run into this danger: Yet, who would have suspected an ambush where I was taken ? [Aside. 1 Sold. There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the general says, you, that have so traitorously discovered the secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no honest use; therefore you must die. Come, headsmen, off with his head. My husband hies him home; where, heaven aid- You never had a servant, to whose trust Hel. Nor you, mistress, Ever a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour Dia. Let death and honesty I am yours Go with your impositions, Par. O Lord, sir; let me live, or let me see my SCENE V.-Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's death! 1 Sold. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. [Unmuffling him. So, look about you; Know you any here? Ber. Good morrow, noble captain. 2 Lord. God bless you, captain Parolles. 1 Lord. God save you, noble captain. 2 Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my lord Lafeu? I am for France. 1 Lord. Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the count Rousillon ? an I were not a very coward, I'd compel it of you; but fare you well. [Exeunt Bertram, Lords, &c. 1 Sold. You are undone, captain: all but your scarf, that has a knot on't yet. Par. Who cannot be crushed with a plot ? 1 Sold. If you could find out a country where but women were that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare you well, sir; I am for France too; we shall speak of you there. [Exit. Par. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, "Twould burst at this: Captain, I'll be no more; But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall, simply the thing I am Shall make me live. Who knows himself a bragLet him fear this; for it will come to pass, That every braggart shall be found an ass. Rust, sword! cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive! There's place, and means, for every man alive. I'll after them. [gart, [Exit. SCENE IV.-Florence, A Room in the Widow's House. Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana. Hel. That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, One of the greatest in the Christian world Palace. Enter Countess, Lafeu, and Clown. Laf. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffata fellow there; whose villainous saffron I would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter-inlaw had been alive at this hour; and your son here at home more advanced by the king, than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. Count. I would, I had not known him! it was the death of the most virtuous gentlewoman, that ever nature had praise for creating : if she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love. Laf. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand salads, ere we light on such another herb. Clo. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the salad, or, rather the herb of grace. Laf. They are not salad-herbs, you knave, they are nose-herbs. Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir, I have not much skill in grass. Laf. Whether dost thou profess thyself; a knave or a fool ? Clo. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's. Laf. Your distinction ? Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his service. Laf. So you were a knave at his service, indeed. Clo. And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. Laf. I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave and fool. Clo. At your service. Laf. No, no, no. Clo. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a prince as you are. Laf. Who's that? a Frenchman ? Clo. Faith, sir, he has an English name; but his phisnomy is more hotter in France, than there. Laf. What prince is that? Clo. The black prince, sir, alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil. Laf. Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; serve him still. f Enter a gentle Astringer. Clo. I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great fire; and the master I speak of, ever keeps a good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of This man may help me to his majesty's ear, the world, let his nobility remain in his court. IIf he would spend his power.-God save you, sir am for the house with the narrow gate, which I Gent. And you. take to be too little for pomp to enter: some, that humble themselves, may; but the many will be too chill and tender; and they'll be for the flowery way, that leads to the broad gate, and the great Laf. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy. Count. So he is. My lord, that's gone, made himself much sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. Laf. I like him well; 'tis not amiss: and I was about to tell you. Since I heard of the good lady's death, and that my lord your son was upon his return home, I moved the king my master, to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness hath promis'd me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it? Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. What's your will? Hel. That it will please you Hel. Not here, sir? Not, indeed: Hel. I do beseech you, sir, Since you are like to see the king before me, Commend the paper to his gracious hand; Which I presume, shall render you no blame, But rather make you thank your pains for it: Count. With very much content, my lord, and II will come after you, with what good speed Laf. His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as when he numbered thirty; he will be here to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence hath seldom failed. Count. It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I die. I have letters, that my son will be here to-night I shall beseech your lordship, to remain with me till they meet together. Laf. Madam, I was thinking, with what manners I might safely be admitted. Count. You need but plead your honourable privilege. Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my God, it holds yet. Re-enter Clown. Clo. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a scar under it, or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet. his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so, belike, is that. Clo. But it is your carbonadoed face. Laf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier. Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man. ACT V. [Exeunt. SCENE I.-Marseilles. A Street. Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night, one, To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, This I'll do for you. SCENE II.-Rousillon. The inner Court of the Enter Clown and Parolles. this letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure. Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will Pr'ythee, allow the wind. spake but by a metaphor. stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. Clo. Foh, pr'ythee, stand away; A paper from here he comes himself. fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, Enter Lafeu. Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean fish-pond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched. Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d ecu for you: Let the justices | Not one word more of the consumed time. make you and fortune friends; I am for other bu siness. Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word. Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word. Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. Laf. You beg more than one word then.-Cox' my passion! give me your hand: How does your drum? Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me. Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out. Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know by his trumpets.-Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you. [Exeunt. SCENE III. The same. A Room in the Countess's Palace. Let's take the instant by the forward top; Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, Lords, Our own love waking cries to see what's done, Gentlemen, Guards, &c. King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem Was made much poorer by it: but your son, As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know Her estimation home. Count. 'Tis past, my liege: And I beseech your majesty to make it Natural rebellion, done i'the blaze of youth; When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, O'erbears it, and burns on. King. My honour'd lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all; Though my revenges were high bent upon him, And watch'd the time to shoot. Laf. This I must say,But first I beg my pardon,-The young lord Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady, Offence of mighty note; but to himself The greatest wrong of all: he lost a wife, Whose beauty did astonish the survey Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive; Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serve, Humbly call'd mistress. King. Praising what is lost, Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon. Count. Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! Or, ere they meet in me, O nature, cease! Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's Laf. I am sure, I saw her wear it. Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it. In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought I stood ingag'd: but when I had subscrib'd To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully, I could not answer in that course of honour As she had made the overture, she ceas'd, In heavy satisfaction, and would never Receive the ring again. King. Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science, Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know That you are well acquainted with yourself, Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety, That she would never put it from her finger, And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, Ber. If you shall prove King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Who hath, for four or five removes, come short King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him for this, I'll none of him. King. The heavens have thought well on thee, To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors: [Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants. Now, justice on the doers ! King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to you, And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and Diana. Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny If you shall marry, Dia. Till your deeds gain them: Fairer prove your ho. Ber. Dia. He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, Count. He blushes, and 'tis it: You saw one here in court could witness it. Ber. He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, King. Dia. Ber. I have it not. Dia. The same upon your finger. Dia. I have spoke the truth. Enter Parolles. Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman; tricks he hath had in him, which gentlemen have. King. Come, come, to the purpose. Did he love this woman? Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how? King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her. Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail.-Stay, royal sir; [Exit Widow. The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for, And he shall surety me. But for this lord, Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself, Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: orator. Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? Par. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did go between them, as I said; but more than that, he loved her, for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I know not what: yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to bed; and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things that would derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know. King. Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say they are married: But thou art too fine in thy evidence; therefore stand aside.This ring, you say, was yours? Dia. Ay, my good lord. King. Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? Dia. It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. King. Who lent it you? Dia. It was not lent me neither. King. Where did you find it then? I found it not. King. If it were yours by none of all these ways, How could you give it him? Dia. Dia. I never gave it him. Laf. This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off and on at pleasure. King. This ring was mine, I gave it his first wife. Dia. It might be yours, or hers, for aught I know. King. Take her away, I do not like her now; To prison with her: and away with him.Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, Thou diest within this hour. Dia. I'll never tell you. He knows himself my bed he hath defil'd; Re-enter Widow, with Helena. Is there no exorcist King. Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? Is't real, that I see? No, my good lord; 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name, and not the thing. I Hel. Ber. Both, both; O, pardon! Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid, found you wond'rous kind. There is your ring, And, look you, here's your letter; This it says, When from my finger you can get this ring, And are by me with child, &c. This is done: Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue, Deadly divorce step between me and you !_ O, my dear mother, do I see you living? Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon:-Good Tom Drum, [to Parolles.] lend me a handkerchief:-So, I thank thee; wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. King. Let us from point to point this story know, To make the even truth in pleasure flow :If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, [To Diana. Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower For I can guess, that, by thy honest aid, Thou kept'st a wife herself, thyself a maid.Of that and all the progress, more and less, Resolvedly more leisure shall express: All yet seems well; and, if it end so meet, The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. |