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
transgressed 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. [To Bertram.]
These things shall be done,
sir.
Laf.
Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?
Par.
Sir?
Laf.
O! I know him well. Ay, sir; he, sir, is a
good workman, a very good tailor.
Ber. [Aside to Parolles.]
Is she gone to the king?
Par.
She is.
-- 252 --
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 should take possession of the bride,
End, ere I do begin 11Q04151 note.
Laf.
A good traveller is something at the latter end
of a dinner; but one that lies 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.
You have made shift to run into't, boots and
spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard2 note
;
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, though I took him at his
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.—Farewell, monsieur: I have
-- 253 --
spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at
my hand3 note; 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 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 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 shows itself, 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,
-- 254 --
Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.
Ber.
Let that go:
My haste is very great. Farewell: hie home.
Hel.
Pray, sir, your pardon.
Ber.
Well, what would you say?
Hel.
I am not worthy of the wealth I owe4 note;
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, farewell5 note
.
[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, coragio!
[Exeunt.
-- 255 --
J. Payne Collier [1842–1844], The works of William Shakespeare. The text formed from an entirely new collation of the old editions: with the various readings, notes, a life of the poet, and a history of the Early English stage. By J. Payne Collier, Esq. F.S.A. In eight volumes (Whittaker & Co. [etc.], London) [word count] [S10101].
