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the manifold linguist, and the armipotent sol


Ber. I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now he's a cat to me.

1 Sold. I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be fain to hang you.

Par. My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to die; but that, my offences being many, I would repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live.

1 Sold. We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; therefore, once more to this captain Dumain: You have answered to his reputation with the duke, and to his valour: What is his honesty?

Par. He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister; for rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus t. He professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking them, he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie, sir, with such volubility, that you would think truth were a fool: drunkenness is his best virtue; for he will be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I have but little more to say, sir, of his honesty he has every thing that an honest man should not have; what an honest man should have, he has nothing.

1 Lord. I begin to love him for this. Ber. For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon him for me, he is more and more

a cat.

1 Sold. What say you to his expertness in war? Par. Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English tragedians,-to belie him, I will not, and more of his soldiership I know not; except, in that country, he had the honour to be the officer at a place there called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of files: I would do the man what honour I can, but of this I am not certain.

1 Lord. He hath out-villained villany so far, that the rarity redeems him.

Ber. A pox on him! he's a cat still. 1 Sold. His qualities being at this poor price, I need not ask you, if gold will corrupt him to revolt.

Par. Sir, for a quart d'écut he will sell the fee-simple of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the entail from all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it perpetually. 1 Sold. What's his brother, the other cap

tain Dumain?

2 Lord. Why does he ask him of me? 1 Sold. What's he?

Par. E'en a crow of the same nest; not altogether so great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: In a retreat he out runs any lackey; marry, in coming on he has the cramp.

1 Sold. If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine?

Par. Ay, and the captain of his horse, count Rousillon.

1 Sold. 141 whisper with the general, and know his pleasure.

Par. I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run into this danger: Yet, who would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? [Aside.

1 Sold. There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the general says, you, that have so traitorously discovered the secrets of your ar my, and made such pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no honest use; therefore yon must die. Come, headsman, off with his head.

Par. O Lord, sir; let me live, or let me see my death!

1 Sold. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. [Unmuffling him. So, look about you; Know you any here? Ber. Good morrow, noble captain.

2 Lord. God bless you, captain Parolles. 1 Lord. God save you, noble captain. 2 Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my lord Lafen? I am for France.

1 Lord. Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana in be half of the count Rousillon? an were not a very coward, I'd compel it of you; but fare you well. [Exeunt BERTRAM, Lords, &c. 1 Sold. You are undone, captain: all but your scarf, that has a knot on't yet.

Par. Who cannot be crushed with a plot? 1 Sold. If you could find out a country where but women were that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare you well, sir; I am for France too; we shall speak of you there. [Exit. Par. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were

great, [more; 'Twould burst at this: Captain, I'll be no But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall: simply the thing I am Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,

Let him fear this; for it will come to pass,
That every braggart shall be found an ass.
Rust, sword! cool, blushes! and, Parolles,

Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery
There's place, and means, for every man
I'll after them.


SCENE IV. Florence. A Room in the Widow's House.

Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA. Hel. That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you,

* i. e., He will steal any thing however trifling, from any place however holy. + The Centaur killed by Hercules. The fourth part of the smaller French crown. To deceive the opinion.

One of the greatest in the Christian world Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne, 'tis needful,

Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel:
Time was, I did him a desired office,
Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep

And answer, thanks: I duly am informed,
His grace is at Marseilles; to which place
We have convenient convoy. You must

I am supposed dead: the army breaking,
My husband hies him home; where, heaven

And by the leave of my good lord the king,
We'll be, before our welcome.
Gentle madam,


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[ven To recompense your love; doubt not, but heaHath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,

As it hath fated her to be my motive⭑
And helper to a husband. But O strange


[hate, That can such sweet use make of what they When saucy t trusting of the cozen'd thoughts Defiles the pitchy night! so lust doth play With what it loaths, for that which is away: But more of this hereafter :--You, Diana, Under my poor instructions yet must suffer Something in my behalf.

Let death and honesty
Go with your impositions §, I am yours
Upon your will to suffer.
Yet, I pray you,--
But with the word, the time will bring on
When briers shall have leaves as well as
And be as sweet as sharp. We must away;
Our waggon is prepared, and time revives us:
All's well that ends well; still the fine's
the crown;

Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.
SCENE V. Rousillon. A Room in the
Countess's Palace.

Enter Countess, LA FEU, and Clown. Laf. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffata fellow there; whose villanous saffron ¶ would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at this our; and your son here at home, more advanced by the king, than by that red-tailed aumble-bee I speak of.

woman, that ever nature had praise for creating: if she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

Laf. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand salads, ere we light on such another herb.

Clo. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjo.. ram of the salad, or, rather the herb of grace**. Laf. They are not salad-herbs, you knave, they are nose-herbs.

Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir, I have not much skill in grass.

Laf. Whether dost thou profess thyself; a knave, or a fool?

Clo. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's.

Laf. Your distinction?

Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his service.

Laf. So you were a knave at his service, indeed.

Clo. And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service.

Laf. I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave and fool.

Clo. At your service. Laf. No, no, no.

Clo. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a prince as you are.

Laf. Who's that? a Frenchman?

Clo. Faith, sir, he has an English name; but his phisnomy is more hotter in France, than there.

Laf. What prince is that?

Clo. The black prince, sir, alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil.

Laf. Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this to suggest tt thee from thy master thou talkest of; serve him still.

Clo. I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great fire; and the master I speak of, ever keeps a good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the world, let his nobility remain in his court. I am for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to enter: some, that humble themselves, may; but the many will be too chill and tender; and they'll be for the flowery way, that leads to the broad gate, and the great fire.

Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be a weary of thee; and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well looked to, without any tricks.

Clo. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. [Exit.

Laf. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy ‡‡. Count. So he is. My lord, that's gone, Count. I would, I had not known him! it made himself much sport out of him: by his was the death of the most virtuous gentle-authority he remains here, which he thinks is

For mover. End.

Lafeu alludes.

i.e., An honest death.


¶ There was a fashion of using yellow starch for bands and ruffles, to which

+ Lascivious.

** i. e., Rue.

it Seduce.


Mischievously unhappy,

a patent for his sauciness; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will.

Laf. I like him well; 'tis not amiss: and I was about to tell you. Since I heard of the good lady's death, and that my lord your son was upon his return home, I moved the king my master, to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it?

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. Re-enter Clown.

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. [Exeunt.

SCENE I. Marseilles. A Street.

two Attendants.


Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and

Must wear your spirits low: we cannot help it;
But, since you have made the days and nights

as one,

Hel. All's well that ends well; yet;


Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with Though time seem so adverse, and means
I do beseech you, whither is he gone? [unfit,
Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon;
Whither I am going.
I do beseech you, sir,
Since you are like to see the king before me,
Commend the paper to his gracious hand;
Which, I presume, shall render you no blame,
But rather make you thank your pains for it:
I will come after you, with what good speed
Our means will make us means.
This I'll do for you.
Hel. And you shall find yourself to be well
[again ;-
Whate'er falls more.-We must to horse
Go, go, provide.

To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs,
Be bold, you do so grow in my requital,
As nothing can unroot you. In happy time;
Enter a gentle Astringer t.
This man may help me to his majesty's ear,
If he would spend his power.-God save you,
Gent. And you.
Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of
Gent. I have been sometimes there.[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 oc-

Which lay nice manners by, I put you to
The use of your own virtues, for the which
I shall continue thankful.

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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.

Scotched like a piece of meat for the gridiron.

+ A gentleman Falconer.

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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. [Exit 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.

Pur. 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 ine; 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. A Room in the Countess's Palace.

Flourish. Enter King, Countess, LAFEU,
Lords, Gentlemen, Guards, &c.
King. We lost a jewel of her; and our

esteem t

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: And I beseech your majesty to inake it Natural rebellion, done i'the blaze of youth; When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, O'erbears it, and burns on. King.

Though my revenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to shoot.
This I must say,-
But first I beg my pardon,-The young lord
Did to his majesty, his mother, and his lady,
Offence of mighty note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all: he lost a wife,
Whose beauty did astonish the survey
Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took
Whose dear perfection, hearts that scorn'd to
Humbly call'd mistress.
Praising what is lost,
Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call
him hither;-

We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill
All repetition :-Let him not ask your pardon;
The nature of his great offence is dead,
And deeper than oblivion do we bury
The incensing relics of it: let him approach,
A stranger, no offender; and inform him,
So 'tis our will he should.
I shall, my liege.
[Exit Gentleman.
King. What says he to your daughter? have
you spoke?
Laf. All that he is hath reference to your
King. Then shall we have a match. I have
letters sent me,
That set him high in fame.



He looks well on't. King. I am not a day of season ¶, For thon 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 **, Dear sovereign, pardon to me. King.

All is whole;.

Not one word more of the consumed time. Let's take the instant by the forward top; For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees The inaudible and noiseless foot of time Steals ere we can effect them: You remember The daughter of this lord?

Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first
Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue:
I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart
Where the impression of mine eye infixing,
Contempthis scornful perspective did lend ine,
Which warp'd the line of every other favour;
Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stol'n;
Extended or contracted all proportions,
To a most hideons object: Thence it came,
That she, whom all men praised, and whom

Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye
The dust that did offend it.

Well excused: That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away [too late, From the great compt: But love, that comes Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried,

My honour'd lady, I have forgiven and forgotten all; * You need not ask ;-here it is. + Reckoning or estimate. Completely, in its full So in As you Like it :-to have "seen much and to have nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands." i. e., The first interview shall put an end to all recollection of the past. ¶ i. e., Of nuinterrupted rain. ** Faults repented of to the utmost,


To the great sender turns a sour offence,
Crying, That's good that's gone: our rash faults
Make trivial price of serious things we have,
Not knowing them, until we know their grave:
Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust,
Destroy our friends, and after weep their dust:
Our own love waking cries to see what's done,
While shameful hate sleeps out the afternoon.
Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget
Send forth your amorous token for fair Maud-
The main consents are had; and here we'll stay
To see our widower's second marriage-day.
Count. Which better than the first, O dear
heaven, bless!

Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cease!
Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's

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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

I stood ingaged: but when I had subscribed
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 ceased,
In heavy satisfaction, and would never
Receive the ring again.
Plutus himself, [cinet,
That knows the tinct and multiplying medi-
Hath not in nature's mystery more science,
Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas

Whoever gave it you: Then, if you know
That you are well acquainted with yourself,
Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough en-
You got it from her: she call'd the saints to
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. Ber. She never saw it. King. Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour;

And makest conjectural fears to come into ine, Which I would fain shut out: If it should prove That thou art so inhuman,-'twill not prove [deadly,

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And yet I know not:-thou didst hate her
And she is dead; which nothing, but to close
Her eyes myself, could win me to believe,
More than to see this ring.-Take him away.—
[Guards seize BERTRAM.
My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall,
Shall tax my fears of little vanity,
Having vainly fear'd too little.-Away with
We'll sift this matter further.
[him ;-
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. Gracious sovereign,



Gent. Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know Here's a petition from a Florentine, Who hath, for four or five removes ý, come To tender it herself. I undertook it, Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech Of the poor suppliant, who by this, I know, Is here attending: her business looks in her With an importing visage; and she told me, In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern Your highness with herself.

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 justice: 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, Lafeu, [suitors:To bring forth this discovery.-Seek these Go, speedily, and bring again the count. [Exeunt Gentleman, and some Attendants I am afeard, the life of Helen, lady, Was foully snatch'd.


Now, justice on the doers! Enter BERTRAM, guarded. King. I wonder, sir, since wives are mon

sters to you,

[ship, And that you fly them as you swear them lordYet you desire to marry.-What woman's that? Re-enter Gentleman, with Widow, and


Dia. I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine,

In the sense of unengaged. + The philosopher's stone. the proper consciousness of your own actions. Post-stages.

i.e., That you have

Pay toll for him.

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