Into the staggers, and the careless lapse [hate,
Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and
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 't were, 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, KING. Good fortune, and the favour of the 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.d

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 dis

suade 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 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-Lord have 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 indignity.

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, 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.f

[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

"Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony." Again, in "Julius Cæsar," Act I. Sc. 1,"If you do find them deckt with ceremonies," and, Act II. Sc. 2:

"Cæsar, I never stood on ceremonies.'

d Exeunt King, &c.] The stage-direction, in the original text, is, "Exeunt. Parolles and Lafeu stay behind, commenting of this wedding."

e My good window of lattice,-] See note (2), p. 626, Vol. i. For doing I am past; as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave.] If instead of as, we read, so, the conceit on the word past is then intelligible: "For doing am past, so I will [pass] by thee," &c.

23

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? 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 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.

Enter BERTRAM.

[Exit.

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!

Than the heraldry of your birth and virtue gives you commission.] This transposition of the words heraldry and commission, as they stand in the old text, was made by Hanmer.

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. [merits PAR. France is a dog-hole, and it no more The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! BER. There's letters from my mother; what the 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 kicky-wicky 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 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, and the detested* wife.
PAR. Will this capriccio hold in thee, art sure?

(*) Old text, detected.

but thanks be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'the world; but yet she is not well.

HEL. If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's not very well?

PAR. That you will take your instant leave o'

the king,

HEL. What two things?

CLO. One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her quickly! the other, that she's in earth, from whence God send her quickly!

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.
HEL.

I pray you.-Come, sirrah.
[Exeunt.

Enter PAROLLES.

PAR. 'Bless you, my fortunate lady!

HEL. I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortunes.*

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 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'rt a knave; that is, before me thou 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 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;
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 to a compelled restraint;

Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with

SCENE V.-Another Room in the same.

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 accordinglyb 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.

End ere I do begin.

LAF. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lies threethirds, 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 and you, monsieur ?

lord

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 ; (5) 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. [Exit. PAR. An idle lord, I swear. BER. I think so.

b

c

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.
"T will 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 toward me my homely stars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.
Let that go:

BER.
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 owe,"
Nor dare I say, 't is 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.