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.

1st Sol. 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, headsinan, off with his head.

Par. O Lord, sir! let me live, or let me see my death.

1st Sol. That you shall, and take your leave of all your friends. [Unmuffling him. So, look about you: know you any here?

Ber. Good-morrow, noble captain. 2nd Lord, God bless you, Captain Parolles. 1st Lord. God save you, noble captain. 2nd Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? I am for France.

1st 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. 1st Sol. You are undone, captain: all but your scarf; that has a knot on 't yet.

Par. Who cannot be crushed with a plot? 1st Sol. 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 "T would 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 braggart,

Let 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 fooled, by foolery thrive!
There's place and means for every man alive.
I'll after them.

[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

wronged you,

One of the greatest in the Christian world
Shall be my surety: 'fore whose throne't is needful,

Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour
To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven
Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,
As it hath fated her to be my motive
And helper to a husband. But O strange men!
That can such sweet use make of what they hate,
When saucy trusting of the cozened thoughts
Defiles the pitchy night!-so lust doth play
With what it loathes, for that which is away:
But more of this hereafter.-You, Diana,
Under my poor instructions yet must suffer
Something in my behalf.

Dia. Let death and honesty
Go with your impositions, I am yours
Upon your will to suffer.

SCENE V.-Rousillon. A Room in the COUNTESS'S Palace.

Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown. Laf. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughterin-law 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, 't was 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 talk'st of; serve him still.

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 the world; let his nobility remain in his court. I am for the house with the narrow gate, which I 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 fire.

Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be a-weary of thee; and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well looked to, without any tricks.

Clo. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. [Exit.

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; 't is 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 promised 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?

Count. With very much content, my lord, and I wish it happily effected.

Laf. His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as when he numbered thirty he will be here to-morow, 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 't is 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. [Exeunt.

A

SCENE I.-Marseilles. A Street.

Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two

Attendants.

Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night, Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it: But since you have made the days and nights as

one,

To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Be bold you do so grow in my requital
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;-

Enter a Gentle Astringer.

This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
If he would spend his power.-God save you, sir.
Astr. And you.

Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
Astr. I have been sometimes there.

Hel. I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness: And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use of your own virtues, for the which I shall continue thankful.

Astr.

What's your will?

Hel. That it will please you

To give this poor petition to the King;
And aid me with that store of power you have,
To come into his presence.

Astr. The King's not here.

Hel.

Astr.

Not here, sir?
Not, indeed:

He hence removed last night, and with more haste Than is his use.

Wid.

Lord, how we lose our pains! Hel. All's well that ends well, yet;

Enter Clown and PAROLLES.

Par. Good Monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter. I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.

Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Pr'y thee, allow the wind.

Par. Nay, you need not stop your nose, sir: I spake but by a metaphor.

Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will

Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat (but not a musk-cat), that has fallen into the unclean fishpond 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'écu for you: let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business.

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.

Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, Lords, Gentlemen, Guards, &c.

King. We lost a jewel of her, and our esteem

King.

My honoured lady,

I have forgiven and forgotten all;

Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watched 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 scorned to serve
Humbly called mistress.

Praising what is lost

King. Makes the remembrance dear.-Well, call him hither:

We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill
All repetition. Let him not ask our pardon:
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him
So 't is our will he should.
Gent.

I shall, my liege.

Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue: Where the impression of mine eye infixing, Contempt his scornful pérspective did lend me, Which warped the line of every other favour; Scorned a fair colour, or expressed it stol'n; Extended or contracted all proportions, To a most hideous object. Thence it came, That she whom all men praised, and whom myself Since I have lost have loved, was in mine eye The dust that did offend it.

That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away
From the great compt. But love that comes too late,
Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Crying "That's good that's gone." Our rash faults
Make trivial price of serious things we have,
Not knowing them until we know their grave:
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust:
Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.—
Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her.
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin:
The main consents are had; and here we 'll stay
To see our widower's second marriage-day.
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

King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour;

And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me,
Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove
That thou art so inhuman,-'t will not prove so;—
And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly,
And she is dead; which nothing but to close
Her eyes myself could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring.-Take him away.
[Guards seize BERTRAM.

My forepast proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
Having vainly feared too little.-Away with him:
We'll sift this matter further.

Ber.

If you shall prove

This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy
Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence,
Where yet she never was.

[Exit BERTRAM, guarded. Enter the Astringer.

King. I am wrapped in dismal thinkings. Astr. Gracious sovereign, Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not: Here's a petition from a Florentine, Who hath, for four or five removes, come short To tender it herself. I undertook it, Vanquished thereto by the fair grace and speech Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know Is here attending: her business looks in her With an importing visage; and she told me, In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern Your highness with herself.