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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 heaven we count the act of men.
Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impostor, that proclaim
Myself 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

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SCENE II.

A Room in the

Rousillon.
Countess's Palace.

Enter COUNTESS and Clown.

Count. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your breeding.

Clo. I will show myself 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 nature 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. Will your answer serve fit to all questions? Clo. As fit as ten groats for the hand of an attorney, as a pancake for Shrove-Tuesday, or a morris for May-day.

Count. Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all questions?

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

King. Methinks, in thee some blessed spirit doth learned should speak truth of it: here it is, and all

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, virtue, 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 sceptre and my hopes of heaven. 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 choose 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.

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;
Though, more to know, could not be more to trust;
From whence thou cam'st, how 'tended on, But

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that belongs to't: Ask me, if I am a courtier; it shall do you no harm to learn.

Count. An end, sir, to your business: Give Helen

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 employment for you: You understand me?

Clo. Most fruitfully; I am there before my legs. Count. Haste you again.

SCENE III. - Paris.

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[Exeunt severally.

A Room in the King's Palace.

Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. Laf They 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; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves 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 relinquished of the artists,
Par. So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus.
Laf. Of all the learned and authentic fellows, —
Par. Right, so I say.

Laf. That gave him out incurable, —
Par. Why, there 'tis; so say I too.
Laf. Not to be helped,

--

Par. Right: as 'twere, a man assured 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 showing, you shall read it in -What do you call there? 2 Ordinary

Laf. A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly

actor.

Par. That's it I would have said; the very same. Laf. Why, your dolphin $ is not lustier: 'fore me I speak in respect ·

Par. Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he is of a most facinorous spirit, that will not acknowledge it to

be the

Laf. Very hand of heaven.
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 recovery of the king, as to be

Laf. Generally thankful.

Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. Par. I would have said it; you say well. comes the king.

Here

Laf. Lustick 5, as the Dutchman says: I'll like
a maid the better, whilst I have a tooth in my head :
Why, he's able to lead her a coranto.
Par. Is not this Helen?
Laf. I think so?

King. Go, call before me all the lords in court. —
[Exit an Attendant.
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 several Lords.

Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel
Of noble bachelors 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 choose, 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 6, 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.

Hel. Gentlemen,

Heaven hath through me restor❜d the king to health.
All. We understand it, and thank heaven 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,
W'e blush, that thou shouldst choose; 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.

Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.

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Hel. Be not afraid [To a Lord.] 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 have her.

Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good. 4 Lord. Fair one, I think not so.

Laf. There's one grape yet,- I am sure, thy father drank 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; [To BERTRAM.] but I give

Me, and my service, ever whilst I live,
Into your guiding power.
This is the man.

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 has 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 8thou 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:
From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
Where great additions 9 swell, 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;
And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn,
In these to nature she's immediate heir;
Which challenges itself as honour's born,
And is not like the sire: Honours best thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers: the mere word's a slave,
Debauch'd on every tomb; on every grave,
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb,

Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw Where dust, and deep oblivion, is the tomb ames-ace 7 for my life.

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Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?
If thou canst like this creature as a maid,

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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 thyself, if thou shouldst
strive to choose.

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, poising 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 travails 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; 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 it, 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 counterpoise; if not to thy estate,

A balance more replete.
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 KING, BERTRAM, HELENA, Lords, and Attendants.

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 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 style.

Par. You are too old, sir; let it satisfy 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

i. e. While I sat twice with thee at dinner.

from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. 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 art scarce worth.

Par. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,

Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial; which if —mercy on thee for a hen! So my good window of lattice, fare thee well thy casement I need not open, for I look through thee. Give me thy hand.

Par. My lord, you give me most egregious in dignity.

Laf. Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it."

Par. I have not, my lord, deserved it.

Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple.

Par. Well, I shall be wiser.

Laf. E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st 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 2, he is a man I know.

Par. My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.

Laf. 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 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 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 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 o' this fashion? dost make hose of thy sleeves? do other servants so? 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 breathe3 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 saucy with lords, and honourable personages, than the heraldry of your birth and virtue gives you commission. 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 concealed a while. Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! Par. What is the matter, sweet-heart?

2 At a need.

Exercise.

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 yet no more merits The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!

Par. Go to, thou art a witty fool, I have found thee.

Clo. Did you find me in yourself, 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 increase of laughter. Par. A good knave, i'faith, and well fed. Madam, my lord will go away to-night;

Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the A very serious business calls on him. import is,

I know not yet.

Par. Ay, that would be known: To the wars,
my boy, to the wars!

He wears his honour in a box unseen,
That hugs his kicksy-wicksy, here at home;
Which should sustain the bond and high curvet
Of Mars's fiery steed: To other regions;
France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades;
Therefore to the 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 5, 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.

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Clo. So that you had her wrinkles, and I her money, 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 thou art a knave: that is, before me thou art a knave: this had been truth, sir.

4 A cant term for a wife.

5 The house made gloomy by discontent.

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 strewed with sweets,
Which they distil now in the curbed time,
To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,
And pleasure drown the brim.

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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.7

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. These things shall be done, sir.

[TO BERTRAM.

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. Is she gone to the king?

Par. She is.

[Aside to PAROLLES.

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,

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

6 A specious appearance of necessity.

7 The bunting nearly resembles the sky-lark, but has little or no song, which gives estimation to the sky-lark.

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with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten. Heaven 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 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, 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 spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil.

Par. An idle lord, I swear.
Ber. I think so.

Par. Why do you not know him?

[Exit.

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; therefore am I found
So much unsettled: This drives me to entreat you,
That presently you take your way for home;
And rather muse 8, 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.
Sir, I can nothing say,

Hel.

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 toward me my homely stars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.
Let that go:

Ber.

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Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe 9; 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. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur?— Farewell. [Exit HELENA. 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.

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· Florence. A Room in the Duke's Palace.

Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; two French Lords, and others.

Duke. So that, from point to point, now have you heard

The fundamental reasons of this war;
Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
And more thirsts after.

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Duke.

Welcome shall they be;

And all the honours, that can fly from us,
When better fall, for your avails they fell:
Shall on them settle. You know your places well;

To-morrow to the field.

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[Flourish.

Exeunt.

- 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 sing; 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 song.

Count. Let me see what he writes, and when he [Opening a letter.

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