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 sing8 note
; 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
song9 note.
Count.
Let me see what he writes, and when he
means to come.
[Opening a letter.
-- 402 --
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.
Count.
What have we here?
Clo.
E'en that1 note you have there.
[Exit.
Count. [Reads.]
I have sent you a daughter-in-law:
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.
-- 403 --
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 me2 note
unto't:—Where is my son, I pray you?
2 Gen.
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 passport.
[Reads.]
When thou canst get the ring upon my
finger3 note
, which never shall come off, and show
-- 404 --
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;
And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains.
Count.
I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer;
If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,
Thou robb'st me of a moiety4 note
: 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.
And to be a soldier?
2 Gen.
Such is his noble purpose: and, believe't,
The duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good convenience claims.
Count.
Return you thither?
1 Gen.
Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
Hel. [Reads.]
Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
'Tis bitter.
Count.
Find you that there?
-- 405 --
Hel.
Ay, madam.
1 Gen.
'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply,
Which his heart was not consenting to.
Count.
Nothing in France, until he have no wife!
There's nothing here, that is too good for him,
But only she; and she deserves a lord,
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
And call her hourly, mistress. Who was with him?
1 Gen.
A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have some time known.
Count.
Parolles, was't not?
1 Gen.
Ay, my good lady, he.
Count.
A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.
1 Gen.
Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that, too much,
Which holds him much to have5 note
.
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.
-- 406 --
Count.
Not so, but as we change our courtesies6 note.
Will you draw near?
[Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen.
Hel.
Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
Nothing in France, until he has no wife!
Thou shalt have none, Rousíllon, none in France,
Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I
That chase thee from thy country, and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-sparing war? and is it I
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark
Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with false aim; move the still-piecing air,
That sings with piercing7 note
, do not touch my lord!
-- 407 --
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff, that do hold him to it;
And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so effected: better 'twere,
I met the ravin lion8 note
when he roar'd
With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
That all the miseries, which nature owes,
Were mine at once: No, come thou home, Rousíllon,
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar9 note,
As oft it loses all; I will be gone:
My being here it is, that holds thee hence:
Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of paradise did fan the house,
And angels offic'd all: I will be gone;
That pitiful rumour may report my flight,
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!
For, with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.
[Exit.
-- 408 --
James Boswell [1821], The plays and poems of William Shakspeare, with the corrections and illustrations of various commentators: comprehending A Life of the Poet, and an enlarged history of the stage, by the late Edmond Malone. With a new glossarial index (J. Deighton and Sons, Cambridge) [word count] [S10201].
