Parolles. Flourish Cornets.
King.
Farewel, young Lords: These warlike Principles
Do not throw from you; and you, my Lords, farewel;
Share the Advice betwixt you. If both gain, all
The Gift doth stretch it self as 'tis receiv'd,
And is enough for both.
1 Lord.
'Tis our Hope, Sir,
After well entered Soldiers, to return
And find your Grace in Health.
King.
No, no, it cannot be; and yet my Heart
Will not confess he owes the Malady
-- 758 --
That doth my Life besiege; farewel, young Lords,
Whether I live or die, be you the Sons
Of worthy French Men; let higher Italy,
Those bated that inherit but the Fall
Of the last Monarchy, see that you come
Not to woo Honour, but to wed it, when
The bravest Question shrinks; find what you seek,
That Fame may cry you loud: I say, farewel.
1 Lord.
Health at your bidding serve your Majesty.
King.
Those Girls of Italy, take heed of them;
They say our French lack Language to deny
If they demand: Beware of being Captives,
Before you serve.
Both.
Our Hearts receive your Warnings.
King.
Farewel. Come hither to me.
1 Lord.
Oh, my sweet Lord, that you will stay behind us.
Par.
'Tis not his Fault, the Spark—
2 Lord.
Oh 'tis brave Wars.
Par.
Most admirable; I have seen those Wars.
Ber.
I am commanded here, and kept a Coil with,
Too young, and the next Year, and 'tis too early.
Par.
And thy Mind stand to it, Boy;
Steal away bravely.
Ber.
I stay here the Forehorse to a Smock,
Creeking my Shooes on the plain Masonry,
'Till Honour be bought up, and no Sword worn
But one to dance with: By Heav'n I'll steal away.
1 Lord.
There's Honour in the Theft.
Par.
Commit it, Count.
2 Lord.
I am accessary, and so farewel.
Ber.
I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd Body.
1 Lord.
Farewel, Captain.
2 Lord.
Sweet Monsieur Parolles.
Par.
Noble Heroes, my Sword and yours are kin; good
Sparks and lustrous; a Word, good Metals. You shall find in
the Regiment of Spinii, one Captain Spurio his Cicatrice,
with an Emblem of War here on his sinister Cheek; it was
this very Sword entrench'd it; say to him, I live, and observe
his Reports of me.
1 Lord.
We shall, noble Captain.
Par.
Mars doat on you for his Novices; what will ye do?
-- 759 --
Ber.
Stay; the King.
Par.
Use a more spacious Ceremony to the noble Lords,
you have restrain'd your self within the List of too cold an
Adieu; be more expressive to them, for they wear themselves
in the Cap of the Time, there do muster true Gate,
eat, speak, and move under the Influence of the most receiv'd
Star, and tho' the Devil lead the Measure, such are
to be follow'd: After them, and take a more dilated farewel.
Ber.
And I will do so.
Par.
Worthy Fellows, and like to prove most sinewy
Sword-men.
[Exeunt.
Enter Lafeu.
Laf.
Pardon, my Lord, for me and for my Tidings.
King.
I'll see thee to stand up.
Laf.
Then here's a Man stands that hath brought his Pardon.
I would you had kneel'd, my Lord, to ask me Mercy,
And that at my Bidding you could so stand up.
King.
I would I had, so I had broke thy Pate,
And ask'd thee Mercy for't.
Laf.
Goodfaith a Cross, but, my good Lord, 'tis thus;
Will you be cur'd of your Infirmity?
King.
No.
Laf.
O will you eat no Grapes, my Royal Fox?
Yes, but you will, my noble Grapes, and if
My Royal Fox could reach them: I have seen a Medicine
That's able to break Life into a Stone,
Quicken a Rock, and make you dance Canary
With sprightly Fire and Motion, whose simple Touch
Is powerful to araise King Pippen, nay,
To give great Charlemain a Pen in's Hand,
And write to her a Love-line.
King.
What her is this?
Laf.
Why Doctor She: My Lord, there's one arriv'd,
If you will see her: Now, by my Faith and Honour,
If seriously I may convey my Thoughts
In this my light Deliverance, I have spoke
With one, that in her Sex, her Years, Profession,
Wisdom and Constancy, hath amaz'd me more
Than I dare blame my Weakness: Will you see her?
For that is her Demand, and know her Business?
That done, laugh well at me.
-- 760 --
King.
Now, good Lafeu,
Bring in the Admiration, that we with thee
May spend our Wonder too, or take off thine,
By wondring how thou took'st it.
Laf.
Nay, I'll fit you,
And not be all Day neither.
King.
Thus he his special nothing ever Prologues.
Laf.
Nay, come your ways.
[Bringing in Helena.
King.
This haste hath Wings indeed.
Laf.
Nay, come your ways,
This is his Majesty, say your Mind to him;
A Traitor you do look like, but such Traitors
His Majesty seldom fears; I am Cressed's Uncle,
That dare leave two together; fare you well.
[Exit.
King.
Now, fair one, do's your Business follow us?
Hel.
Ay, my good Lord.
Gerard de Narbon was my Father,
In what he did profess, well found.
King.
I knew him.
Hel.
The rather will I spare my Praises towards him,
Knowing him is enough: On's Bed of Death
Many Receipts he gave me, namely one,
Which as the dearest Issue of his Practice,
And of his old Experience, th' only Darling,
He bad me store up, as a Triple-Eye,
Safter than mine own two: More dear I have so;
And hearing your high Majesty is touch'd
With that malignant Cause, wherein the Honour
Of my dear Father's Gift stands chief in Power,
I come to tender it, and my Appliance,
With all bound Humbleness.
King.
We thank you, Maiden;
But may not be so credulous of Cure,
When our most learned Doctors leave us, and
The congregated Colledge have concluded,
That labouring Art can never ransome Nature
From her unaidable Estate: I say, we must not
So stain our Judgment, or corrupt our Hope,
To prostitute our past-cure Malady
To Empericks, or to dissever so
-- 761 --
Our great self and our Credit, to esteem
A senseless help, when help past sense we deem.
Hel.
My Duty then shall pay me for my pains;
I will no more enforce my Office on you,
Humbly intreating from your Royal Thoughts,
A modest one to bear me back again.
King.
I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful;
Thou thought'st to help me, and such Thanks I give,
As one near Death to those that wish him live;
But what at full I know, thou know'st no part,
I knowing all my Peril, thou no Art.
Hel.
What I can do, can do no hurt to try,
Since you set up your Rest 'gainst Remedy;
He that of greatest Works is finisher,
Oft does them by the weakest Minister:
So holy Writ, in Babes, hath Judgment shown,
When Judges have been Babes. Great Floods have flown
From simple Sources; and great Seas have dried,
When Miracles have by the great'st been denied.
Oft Expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises: And oft it hits,
Where Hope is coldest, and Despair most shifts.
King.
I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind Maid,
Thy pains not us'd, must by thy self be paid,
Proffers not took, reap Thanks for their Reward.
Hel.
Inspired Merit so by Breath is bar'd:
It is not so with him that all things knows
As 'tis with us, that square our Guess by shows:
But most it is Presumption in us, when
The help of Heav'n we count the act of Men.
Dear Sir, to my Endeavours give consent,
Of Heav'n, not me, make an Experiment.
I am not an Impostor, that proclaim
My self against the level of mine aim,
But know, I think, and think I know most sure,
My Art is not past Power, nor you past Cure.
King.
Art thou so confident? within what space
Hop'st thou my Cure?
Hel.
The Greatest lending Grace,
E'er twice the Horses of the Sun shall bring
Their fiery Torcher his durnal Ring.
-- 762 --
E'er twice in Murk and Occidental Damp,
Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy Lamp;
Or four and twenty times the Pilot's Glass
Hath told the thievish Minutes how they pass,
What is infirm, from your sound Parts shall fly,
Health shall live free, and Sickness freely die.
King.
Upon thy Certainty and Confidence,
What dar'st thou venture?
Hel.
Tax of Impudence,
A Strumpet's boldness, a divulged Shame
Traduc'd by odious Ballads: My Maiden's Name
Sear'd otherwise, no worse of worst extended,
With vilest Torture let my Life be ended.
King.
Methinks in thee some blessed Spirit doth speak
His powerful Sound, within an Organ weak;
And what Impossibility would slay
In common Sense, Sense saves another way.
Thy Life is dear, for all that Life can rate
Worth name of Life, in thee hath estimate:
Youth, Beauty, Wisdom, Courage, all
That Happiness and Prime can happy call;
Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate
Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate;
Sweet Practiser, thy Physick I will try,
That ministers thine own Death if I die.
Hel.
If I break Time, or flinch in Property
Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
And well deserv'd: Not helping, Death's my Fee;
But if I help, what do you promise me?
King.
Make thy Demand.
Hel.
But will you make it even?
King.
Ay, by my Scepter, and my hopes of help.
Hel.
Then shalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand,
What Husband in thy Power I will command.
Exempted be from me the Arrogance
To chuse from forth the Royal Blood of France,
My low and humble Name to propagate
With any Branch or Image of thy State:
But such a one thy Vassal, whom I know
Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.
-- 763 --
King.
Here is my hand, the Premises observ'd,
Thy Will by my Performance shall be serv'd:
So make the choice of thine own time, for I,
Thy resolv'd Patient, on thee still rely;
More should I question thee, and more I must,
Tho' more to know, could not be more to trust:
From whence thou cam'st, how tended on, but rest
Unquestion'd welcome, and undoubted blest.
Give me some help here hoa! if thou proceed,
As high as word, my Deed shall match thy Deed.
[Exeunt.
Enter Countess and Clown.
Count.
Come on, Sir, I shall now put you to the height
of your breeding.
Clown.
I will shew my self highly fed, and lowly taught;
I know my Business is but to the Court.
Count.
To the Court, why what place make you special,
when you put off that with such Contempt; but to
the Court?
Clo.
Truly, Madam, if God have lent a Man any Manners,
he may easily put it off at Court: He that cannot
make a Leg, put off's Cap, kiss his Hand, and say nothing,
has neither Leg, Hands, Lip, nor Cap; and indeed such a
Fellow, to say precisely, were not for the Court; but for
me, I have an Answer will serve all Men.
Count.
Marry that's a bountiful Answer that fits all Questions.
Clo.
It is like a Barber's Chair, that fits all Buttocks, the
pin Buttock, the quatch Buttock, the brawn Buttock, or
any Buttock.
Count.
Will your Answer serve fit to all Questions?
Clo.
As fit as ten Groats is for the Hand of an Attorney,
as your French Crown for your Taffaty Punk, as Tib's
Rush for Tom's Fore-finger, as a Pancake for Shrovetuesday,
a Morris for May-day, as the Nail to his hole, the Cuckold
to his Horn, as a scolding Quean to a wrangling Knave, as
the Nun's Lip to the Friar's Mouth, nay, as the Pudding
to his Skin.
Count.
Have you, I say, an Answer of such fitness for all
Questions?
-- 764 --
Clo.
From below your Duke, to beneath your Constable,
it will fit any Question.
Count.
It must be an answer of most monstrous size, that
must fit all Demands.
Clo.
But a Trifle neither in good faith, if the Learned
should speak truth of it: Here it is, and all that belongs
to't. Ask me if I am a Courtier, it shall do you no harm
to learn.
Count.
To be young again, if we could: I will be a
Fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer.
I pray you, Sir, are you a Courtier?
Clo.
O Lord, Sir—there's a simple putting off: More,
more, a hundred of them.
Count.
Sir, I am a poor Friend of your's, that loves you.
Clo.
O Lord, Sir—thick, thick, spare not me.
Count.
I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely
Meat.
Clo.
O Lord, Sir—nay put me to't, I warrant you.
Count.
You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think.
Clo.
O Lord, Sir—spare not me.
Count.
Do you cry, O Lord, Sir, at your whipping, and
spare not me? Indeed, your O Lord Sir, is very sequent to
your whipping: You would answer very well to a whipping
if you were but bound to't.
Clo.
I ne'er had worse luck in my Life, in my, O Lord
Sir; I see things may serve long, and not serve ever.
Count.
I play the noble Huswife with the time, to entertain
it so merrily with a Fool.
Clo.
O Lord, Sir—why there't serves well again.
Count.
An end, Sir, to your Business: Give Hellen this,
And urge her to a present answer back,
Commend me to my Kinsmen, and my Son:
This is not much.
Clo.
Not much Commendation to them.
Count.
Not much Imployment for you, you understand
me.
Clo.
Most fruitfully, I am there before my Legs.
Count.
Haste thou again.
[Exeunt.
Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles.
Laf.
They say Miracles are past, and we have our Philosophical
Person, to make modern and familiar things supernatural
-- 765 --
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 latter 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 the 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.
Why your Dolphin is not lustier: For me, I speak
in respect—
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 only 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.
Mor du Vinaigre, is not this Hellen?
Laf.
Fore God I think so.
-- 766 --
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.
Enter three or four Lords.
Fair Maid, send forth thine Eye; this youthful parcel
Of Noble Batchellors, stand at my bestowing,
O'er whom both Sovereign 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, Heav'n 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 refused;
Let the white Death sit on thy Cheeks 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 impartial Jove, that God most high
Do my sighs stream: Sir, will you hear my Suit?
1 Lord.
And grant it.
Hel.
Thanks, Sir, all the rest is mute.
Laf.
I had rather be in this Choice, than throw
A Deaux-ace for my Life.
Hel.
The Honour, Sir, that flames in your fair Eyes,
Before I speak, too threatningly replies:
-- 767 --
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 Jove grant, and so I take my leave.
Laf.
Do all they deny her? And they were Sons of mine,
I'd have them whip'd, or I would send them to th' 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.
Fair one, I think not so.
Laf.
There's one Grape yet, I am sure my Father
drunk Wine; but if thou be'st 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,
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
-- 768 --
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound distinction; yet stands off
In differences of 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.
From lowest place, whence 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;
And these breed Honour: That is Honour's scorn,
Which challenges it self as Honours born,
And is not like the Sire. Honours best thrive,
When rather from our Acts we them derive
Than our Fore-goers: The meer word's a slave
Debosh'd on every Tomb, on every Grave;
A lying Trophy, 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 canst like this Creature as a Maid,
I can create the rest: Virtue and she
Is her own Dower; 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.
My Honour's at the stake, which to defeat
I must produce my Power. Here, take her Hand,
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.
-- 769 --
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 cares for ever,
Into the Staggers and the careless Lapse
Of Youth and Ignorance; both 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 enobled,
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 the 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 do's 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.
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 Rossilion?
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.
-- 770 --
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. If thou didst make tolerable vent of thy Travel,
it might pass; yet the Scarfs and the Banners 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.
Do not plunge thy self too far in Anger, lest thou
hasten thy trial; which is, Lord have Mercy on thee for a
Hen; so, my good Window of Lattice, fare thee well, thy
Casement I need not open, I look through thee. Give me
thy Hand.
Par.
My Lord, you give most egregious Indignity.
Laf.
Ay, withal 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 a'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, and he
were double and double a Lord. I'll have no more pity of
-- 771 --
his Age than I would have of—I'll beat him, and if I
could but meet him again.
Enter Lafeu.
Laf.
Sirrah, your Lord and Master's married, there's
New's 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 a 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: Methink'st
thou art a general Offence, and every Man should beat thee.
I think thou wast created for Men to breath 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 Pomegranat; 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 have 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 th'import
is, I know not yet.
Par.
Ay, that would be known: To th' Wars my Boy,
to th' Wars.
-- 772 --
He wears his Honour in a Box unseen,
That hugs his kickly wicksy here at home,
Spending his manly Marrow in her Arms
Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars's fiery Steed: To other Regions,
France is a Stable, we that dwell in't Jades,
Therefore to th' 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.
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 is 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.
-- 773 --
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,
Strengthned 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.
[Exit Par.
Hel.
I pray you come, Sirrah.
[Exit.
-- 774 --
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 warrantable 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 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 Horse, and to Night,
When I should take Possession of the Bride—
And e'er I do begin—
Laf.
A good Traveller is something at the latter end of
a Dinner; but if on that he lyes three thirds, and uses a known
Truth to pass a thousand Nothings with, he 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 leaps into the Custard; and out of it
you'll run again, rather than suffer Question for your Residence.
-- 775 --
Ber.
It may be you have mistaken him, my Lord.
Laf.
And shall do so for 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 Hands, 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?
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 procured 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; and therefore am I found
So much unsetled: 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 shews it self at the first view,
To you that know them not. This to my Mother,
[Giving a Letter.
'Twill be two days e'er 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, no more of that.
Hel.
And ever shall
With true observance seek to eke out that
Wherein toward me my homely Stars have fail'd
To equal my great Fortune.
-- 776 --
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 timorous Thief, most fain would steal
What Law does vouch mine own.
Ber.
What would you have?
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.
I shall not break your bidding, good my Lord:
Where are my other Men? Monsieur, farewel.
[Exit.
Ber.
Go thou toward 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.
Charles Gildon [1709–1710], The works of Mr. William Shakespear; in six [seven] volumes. Adorn'd with Cuts. Revis'd and Corrected, with an Account of the Life and Writings of the Author. By N. Rowe ([Vol. 7] Printed for E. Curll... and E. Sanger [etc.], London) [word count] [S11401].
