« ÎnapoiContinuă »
Count. With very much content, my lord, and I wish it happily effected.
Laf. His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as when he numbered thirty; he will be here to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence hath seldom failed.
Count. It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I die. I have letters, that my son will be here to-night I shall beseech your lordship, to remain with me till they meet together.
Laf. Madam, I was thinking, with what manners I might safely be admitted.
Count. You need but plead your honourable privilege.
Laf. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my God, it holds yet.
Clo. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a scar under it, or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so, belike, is that.
Clo. But it is your carbonadoed face.
Laf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier.
Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man. [Breunt.
SCENE I.-Marseilles. A Street.
Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two
Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night, Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it; But since you have made the days and nights as
To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Enter a gentle Astringer.
This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France.
Hel. I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen From the report that goes upon your goodness; And therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, Which lay nice manners by, I put you to The use of your own virtues, for the which I shall continue thankful.
What's your will?
Hel. That it will please you
And aid me with that store of power you have,
Gent. The king's not here.
Not here, sir?
Gent. Not, indeed: He hence remov'd last night, and with more haste Than is his use.
Lord, how we lose our pains!
This I'll do for you.
SCENE II.-Rousillon. The inner Court of the Countess's Palace.
Enter Clown and PAROLLES.
Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's moat, and smell somewhat strong of her strong displeasure.
Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strong as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Pr'ythee, allow the wind.
Par. Nay, you need not stop your nose, sir; I spake but by a metaphor.
Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Pr'ythee, get thee further.
Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.
Clo. Foh, pr'ythee, stand away; A paper from fortune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he comes himself.
Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Erit Clown. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched.
Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'tis too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for you: Let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business.
Par. I beseech your honour, to hear me one single word.
Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; save your word.
Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. Laf. You beg more than one word then.-Cox' my passion! give me your hand: How does your drum? Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found me.
Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.
Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out.
Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The king's coming, I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further after me; I had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. The same.
Fenrish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, Lords,
King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem Was made much poorer by it: but your son, As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know Her estimation home.
'Tis past, my liege :
My honour'd lady,
Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive;
Praising what is lost,
Makes the remembrance dear. hither;
Well, call him
We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill
All repetition: Let him not ask our pardon;
I shall, my liege.
Laf. All that he is hath reference to your highness.
King. I am not a day of season, For thou may'st see a sun-shine and a hail In me at once: But to the brightest beams Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth, The time is fair again. My high-repented blames, All is whole;
Dear sovereign, pardon to me.
Not one word more of the consumed time.
Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first
That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away From the great compt: But love, that comes too late,
Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,
Count. Which better than the first, O dear hea-
Or, ere they meet in me, O nature, cease!
Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's
I have seen her wear it;
He looks well on't. At her life's rate.
Son, on my life, and she reckon❜d it
To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these suitors:Go, speedily, and bring again the count.
[Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants.
I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady,
Laf. I am sure, I saw her wear it. Ber. You are deceiv'd, my lord, she never saw it: In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain❜d the name Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought I stood ingag'd: but when I had subscrib'd To mine own fortune, and inform'd her fully, I could not answer in that course of honour As she had made the overture, she ceas'd, In heavy satisfaction, and would never Receive the ring again.
King. Plutus himself, That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, Hath not in nature's mystery more science, Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas H len's, Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know That you are well acquainted with yourself, Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety, That she would never put it from her finger, Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, (Where you have never come,) or sent it us Upon her great disaster.
She never saw it.
King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine
And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me,
If you shall prove This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, Where yet she never was. [Exit BERTRAM, guarded. Enter a Gentleman.
King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings.
Who hath, for four or five removes, come short
King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for ustice: Grant it me, O king; in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. DIANA CAPULET.
Laf. I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll him for this, I'll none of him.
King. The heavens have thought well on thee,
Now, justice on the doers! Enter BERTRAM, guarded.
King. I wonder, sir, since wives are monsters to
And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, Yet you desire to marry. - What woman's that?
Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and DIANA. Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, Derived from the ancient Capulet; My suit, as I do understand, you know, And therefore know how far I may be pitied. Wid. I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour Both suffer under this complaint we bring, And both shall cease, without your remedy.
King. Come hither, count; Do you know these women?
Ber. My lord, I neither can, nor will deny But that I know them: Do they charge me further? Dia. Why do you look so strange upon your
Than in my thought it lies!
Fairer prove your ho
Good my lord,
King. What say'st thou to her?
She's impudent, my lord;
Count. He blushes, and 'tis it:
Laf. I saw the man to-day, if man he be. Fing. Find him, and bring him hither. Ber.
loved her, for, indeed, he was mad for her, and talked of Satan, and of limbo, and of furies, and I What of him? know not what yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that I knew of their going to bed; and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things that would derive me ill will to speak of, therefore I will not speak what I know.
He's quoted for a most perfidious slave,
I must be patient; You, that turn'd off a first so noble wife, May justly diet me. I pray you yet, (Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband,) Send for your ring, I will return it home, And give me mine again.
I have it not. Aing. What ring was yours, I pray you? Sir, much like
Not fearing the displeasure of (Which, on your just proceeding, I'll keep off,) By him, and by this woman here, what know you?
Par. So please your majesty, my master hath been an honourable gentleman; tricks he hath had in in, which gentlemen have.
Kmg. Come, come, to the purpose: Did he love this woman?
Par. 'Faith, sir, he did love her; But how?
Par. He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves
Aing. How is that?
Par. He loved her, sir, and loved her not. King. As thou art a knave, and no knave: What an equivocal companion is this?
Par. I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command.
Lef. He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty
Dia. Do you know, he promised me marriage? Paz. 'Faith, I know more than I'll speak. King. But wilt thou not speak all thou know'st? Par. Yes, so please your majesty; I did bego tween them, as I said; but more than that, he
King. Take her away, I do not like her now; To prison with her and away with him. — Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, Thou diest within this hour.
I'll never tell you.
King. Take her away.
Dia. Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't: I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life; I am either maid, or else this old man's wife.
[Pointing to LAFeu.
King. She does abuse our ears; to prison with her. Dia. Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal [Erit Widow.
sir; The jeweller, that owes the ring, is sent for, And he shall surety me. But for this lord, Who hath abus'd me, as he knows himself, Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: He knows himself my bed he hath defil'd; And at that time he got his wife with child: Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick; So there's my riddle, One, that's dead, is quick; And now behold the meaning.
Re-enter Widow, with HELENA.
King. Is there no exorcist Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? Is't real, that I see?
No, my good lord; 'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, The name, and not the thing.
Ber. Both, both; O, pardon! Hel. O, my good lord, when I was like this maid, I found you wond'rous kind. There is your ring, And, look you, here's your letter; This it says, When from my finger you can get this ring, And are by me with child, &c. This is done : Will you be mine, now you are doubly won?
Ber. If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly,
I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly.
Hel. If it appear not plain, and prove untrue,
Laf. Mine eyes smell onions, I shall weep anon:Good Tom Drum, [to PAROLLES.] lend me a handkerchief: So, I thank thee; wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones.
King. Let us from point to point this story know, To make the even truth in pleasure flow: If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower,
[TO DIANA. Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower