Parolles.
Laf.
(15) noteThey say, miracles are past; and we
have our philosophical persons to make
modern, and familiar, Things supernatural and causeless.
Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconsing
our selves into seeming knowledge, when we
should submit our selves to an unknown fear.
Par.
Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that
hath shot out in our later times.
Ber.
And so 'tis.
Laf.
To be relinquish'd of the Artists—
Par.
So I say, both of Galen and Paracelsus.
Laf.
Of all the learned and authentick Fellows—
Par.
Right, so I say.
Laf.
That gave him out incurable,—
Par.
Why, there 'tis, so say I too.
Laf.
Not to be help'd,—
Par.
Right, as 'twere a man assur'd of an—
Laf.
Uncertain life, and sure death,—
Par.
Just, you say well: so would I have said.
Laf.
I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.
Par.
It is, indeed, if you will have it in shewing,
you shall read it in, what do you call there—
Laf.
A shewing of a heav'nly effect in an earthly
actor.
Par.
That's it, I would have said the very same.
Laf.
(16) note
Why, your dolphin is not lustier: for me,
I speak in respect—
-- 389 --
Par.
Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the
brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most facinerious
spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the—
Laf.
Very hand of Heav'n.
Par.
Ay, so I say.
Laf.
In a most weak—
Par.
And debile minister, great power, great transcendence;
which should, indeed, give us a further use
to be made than alone the recov'ry of the King; as to
be—
Laf.
Generally thankful.
Enter King, Helena, and attendants.
Par.
I would have said it, you said well: here comes
the King.
Laf.
Lustick, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a Maid
the better, while I have a tooth in my head: why,
he's able to lead her a Corranto.
Par.
Mort du Vinaigre, is not this Helen?
Laf.
'Fore God, I think so.
King.
Go, call before me all the Lords in Court.
Sit, my Preserver, by thy Patient's side;
And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense
Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive
The confirmation of my promis'd gift;
Which but attends thy naming.
-- 390 --
Enter three or four Lords.
Fair Maid, send forth thine eye; this youthful parcel
Of noble batchelors stand at my bestowing,
O'er whom both sov'reign power and Father's voice
I have to use; thy frank election make;
Thou hast power to chuse, and they none to forsake.
Hel.
To each of you, one fair and virtuous Mistress
Fall, when love please! marry, to each but one.—
Laf.
I'd give bay curtal and his furniture,
My mouth no more were broken than these boys,
And writ as little beard.
King.
Peruse them well:
Not one of those, but had a noble Father.
[She addresses her self to a Lord.
Hel.
Gentlemen, Heaven hath, through me, restor'd
The King to health.
All.
We understand it, and thank Heav'n for you.
Hel.
I am a simple Maid, and therein wealthiest,
That, I protest, I simply am a Maid.—
Please it your Majesty, I have done already:
The Blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me,
“We blush that thou should'st chuse, but be refus'd;
“Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever,
“We'll ne'er come there again.
King.
Make Choice, and see,
Who shuns thy love, shuns all his love in me.
Hel.
Now, Dian, from thy Altar do I fly,
And to imperial Love, that God most high,
Do my sighs stream: Sir, will you hear my suit?
1 Lord.
And grant it.
Hel.
(17) note
Thanks, Sir;—all the rest is mute.
-- 391 --
Laf.
I had rather be in this choice, than throw
Ames-ace for my life.
Hel.
The honour, Sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
Before I speak, too threatningly replies:
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
Her that so wishes, and her humble love!
2 Lord.
No better, if you please.
Hel.
My wish receive,
Which great Love grant! and so I take my leave.
Laf.
Do all they deny her? if they were Sons of
mine, I'd have them whip'd, or I would send them to
the Turk to make eunuchs of.
Hel.
Be not afraid that I your hand should take,
I'll never do you wrong for your own sake:
Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
Laf.
These boys are boys of ice, they'll none of
her: sure, they are bastards to the English, the French
ne'er got 'em.
Hel.
You are too young, too happy, and too good,
To make your self a Son out of my blood.
4 Lord.
(18) note
Fair one, I think not so.
Laf.
There's one grape yet,—
Par.
I am sure, thy Father drunk Wine.—
Laf.
But if Thou be'est not an Ass, I am a
Youth of fourteen. I have known thee already.
Hel.
I dare not say, I take you; but I give
Me and my service, ever whilst I live,
-- 392 --
Into your guiding power; this is the Man.
[To Bertram.
King.
Why then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy Wife.
Ber.
My Wife, my Liege? I shall beseech your Highness,
In such a business give me leave to use
The help of mine own eyes.
King.
Know'st thou not, Bertram,
What she hath done for me?
Ber.
Yes, my good Lord,
But never hope to know why I should marry her.
King.
Thou know'st, she has rais'd me from my sickly bed.
Ber.
But follows it, my Lord, to bring me down
Must answer for your raising? I know her well:
She had her Breeding at my Father's Charge:
A poor Physician's Daughter my Wife!—Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever!
King.
'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which
I can build up: strange is it, that our bloods,
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
In differences, so mighty. If she be
All that is virtuous, (save what thou dislik'st,
A poor Physician's Daughter,) thou dislik'st
Of Virtue for the name: but do not so.
(19) note
From lowest Place when virtuous things proceed,
The Place is dignify'd by th' doer's deed.
Where great Addition swells, and Virtue none,
It is a dropsied honour; good alone,
Is good without a name. Vileness is so:
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the Title. She is young, wise, fair,
In these, to Nature she's immediate Heir;
-- 393 --
And these breed honour: That is honour's scorn,
Which challenges it self as honour's born,
And is not like the fire. (20) note
Honours best thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers: the meer Word's a slave
Debaucht on every tomb, on every grave;
A lying trophy; (21) note
and as oft is dumb,
Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
Of honour'd bones, indeed. What should be said?
If thou can'st like this Creature as a Maid,
I can create the rest: virtue and she,
Is her own dow'r; honour and wealth from me.
Ber.
I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
King.
Thou wrong'st thy self, if thou should'st strive to chuse.
Hel.
That you are well restor'd, my Lord, I'm glad:
Let the rest go.—
King.
(22) note
My honour's at the stake; which to defend,
I must produce my Power. Here, take her hand,
-- 394 --
Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift!
That dost in vile misprision shackle up
My love, and her desert; that canst not dream,
We poizing us in her defective scale,
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 travels 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
Of youth and ignorance; my revenge and 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; 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 in thy estate,
A ballance more repleat.
Ber.
I take her hand.
King.
Good fortune, and the favour of the King
Smile upon this Contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient on the now-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.
Manent Parolles and Lafeu.
Laf.
Do you hear, Monsieur? a word with you.
Par.
Your pleasure, Sir?
Laf.
Your Lord and Master did well to make his recantation.
-- 395 --
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 stile.
Par.
You are too old, Sir; let it satisfie 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 burthen. 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'rt scarce worth.
Par.
Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon
thee—
Laf.
(23) note
Do not plunge thy self too far in anger,
lest thou hasten thy tryal; which if,—Lord have mercy
on thee for a hen! so, my good window of lattice,
-- 396 --
fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, 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, deserv'd it.
Laf.
Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it; and I will
not bate thee a scruple.
Par.
Well, I shall be wiser—
Laf.
Ev'n as soon as thou can'st, for thou hast to
pull at a Smack o'th' contrary. If ever thou beest
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.
Par.
My Lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
Laf.
I would, it were hell-pains for thy sake, and
my poor doing eternal: for doing, I am past; as I
will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave.
[Exit.
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 authority.
I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet 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, my good
Lord, whom I serve above, is my Master.
Laf.
Who? God?
Par.
Ay, Sir.
-- 397 --
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
thee: 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 sawcy with
Lords and honourable Personages, than the commission
of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. 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 conceal'd a while.
Ber.
Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
Par.
What is the matter, sweet heart?
Ber.
Although before the solemn Priest I've sworn,
I will not bed her.
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 th' wars.
Ber.
There's letters from my Mother; what the import
is, I know not yet.
Par.
Ay, that would be known: to th' wars, my
boy, to th' wars.
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 Curvet
Of Mar's fiery Steed: to other Regions
France is a stable, we that dwell in't jades,
Therefore to th' war.
-- 398 --
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.
Enter Helena and Clown.
Hel.
My Mother greets me kindly, is she well?
Clo.
She is not well, but yet she has her health;
she's very merry, but yet she is not well: but, thanks
be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'th'
world; but yet she is not well.
Hel.
If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's
not very well?
Clo.
Truly, she's very well, indeed, but for two
things.
Hel.
What two things?
Clo.
One, that she's not in Heav'n, whither God
send her quickly; the other, that she's in Earth, from
whence God send her quickly!
Enter Parolles.
Par.
Bless you, my fortunate Lady.
Hel.
I hope, Sir, I have your good will to have
mine own good fortune.
-- 399 --
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 mony,
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, th'art
a knave; that's, before me th'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 your self, 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 encrease 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:
Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets
Which they distil now in the curbed time,
To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,
And pleasure drown the brim.
Hel.
What's his will else?
Par.
That you will take your instant leave o'th' 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.
-- 400 --
Hel.
(24) note
In every thing I wait upon his will.
Par.
I shall report it so.
[Exit Par.
Hel.
I pray you.—Come, Sirrah.
[To Clown.
[Exeunt.
Enter Lafeu and Bertram.
Laf.
But, I hope, your Lordship thinks not him a
soldier.
Ber.
Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.
Laf.
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
transgress'd 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.
Laf.
I pray you, Sir, who's his taylor?
Par.
Sir?
Laf.
O, I know him well; I, Sir, he, Sir's, a good
workman, a very good taylor.
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
-- 401 --
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 lyes 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.
(25) note
You have made shift to run into't, boots
and spurs and all, like him that leapt 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, tho' I took him at's 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. Farewel, Monsieur, I have spoken
better of you, than you have or will deserve at
my hand, but we must do good against evil.
[Exit.
Par.
An idle Lord, I swear.—
Ber.
I think so.
Par.
Why, do you not know him?
-- 402 --
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 intreat you,
That presently you take your way for home,
And rather muse, than ask, why I intreat you;
For my respects are better than they seem,
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater than shews it self 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 shall
With true observance seek to eke out That,
Wherein tow'rd me my homely stars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.
Ber.
Let That go:
My haste is very great. Farewel; hie home.
Hel.
Pray, Sir, your pardon.
Ber.
Well, what would you say?
Hel.
I am not worthy of the wealth I owe;
Nor dare I say, 'tis mine, and yet it is;
But, like a tim'rous thief, most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.
Ber.
What would you have?
-- 403 --
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.
Hel.
(26) note
I shall not break your bidding, good my Lord:
Where are my other men? Monsieur, farewel.
[Exit.
Ber.
Go thou tow'rd home, where I will never come,
Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the drum:
Away, and for our flight.
Par.
Bravely, Couragio!
[Exeunt.
-- 404 --
Lewis Theobald [1733], The works of Shakespeare: in seven volumes. Collated with the Oldest Copies, and Corrected; With notes, Explanatory and Critical; By Mr. Theobald (Printed for A. Bettesworth and C. Hitch [and] J. Tonson [etc.], London) [word count] [S11201].
