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Myself in my uncertain grounds to fail
As often as I guessed.
Be it his pleasure.
2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of our nature,' That surfeit on their ease, will, day by day,
Come here for physic.
Welcome shall they be ; And all the honors, that can fly from us, Shall on them settle. You know your places well; When better fall, for your avails they fell. To-morrow to the field.
SCENE II. 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.
means to come.
Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at court; our old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o'the court. The brains of my Cupid's knocked out; and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach.
Count. What have we here?
Clo. E'en that you have there.
1 As we say at present, our young fellows.
2 The tops of the boots, in Shakspeare's time, turned down, and hung loosely over the leg. The folding part, or top, was the ruff. It was of softer leather than the boot, and often fringed.
Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the not eternal. You shall hear I am run away; know it, before the report come. If there be breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you. Your unfortunate son,
This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
Clo. O madam, yonder is heavy news within, between two soldiers and my young lady.
Count. What is the matter?
Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news; some comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would.
Count. Why should he be killed?
Clo. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does. The danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of men, though it be the getting of children. Here they come will tell you more; for my part, I only hear your son was run away. [Exit Clown.
Enter HELENA and two Gentlemen.
1 Gent. Save you, good madam.
Count. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, gentle
I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief,
Can woman me unto't.-Where is my son, I pray you!
2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of
We met him thitherward; from thence we came,
Hel. Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport.
[Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body, that I am father to, then call me husband; but in such a then I write a
This is a dreadful sentence !
Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen? 1 Gent.
Ay, madam; And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains. Count. I pr'ythee, lady, have a better cheer; If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,1 Thou robb'st me of a moiety. He was my son; But I do wash his name out of my blood,
And thou art all my child.—Towards Florence is he? 2 Gent. Ay, madam.
And to be a soldier?
2 Gent. Such is his noble purpose; and, believe't, The duke will lay upon him all the honor That good convenience claims.
Return you thither? 1 Gent. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
Hel. [Reads.] Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.
Count. Find you that there?
1 Gent. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which
His heart was not consenting to.
Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife! There's nothing here that is too good for him, But only she; and she deserves a lord
1 An elliptical expression for "all the griefs that are thine."
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
Parolles, was't not?
1 Gent. Ay, my good lady, he. Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. My son corrupts a well-derived nature With his inducement.
Count. You are welcome, gentlemen.
2 Gent. We serve you, madam, In that and all your worthiest affairs. Count. Not so, but as we change our courtesies.2 Will you draw near?
[Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen.
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
1 This passage as it stands is very obscure; something appears to be omitted after much. Warburton interprets it, "That his vices stand him in stead of virtues."
2 The countess answers-no otherwise than as she returns the same offices of civility.
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon,
And angels officed all: I will be gone;
SCENE III. Florence. Before the Duke's Palace Flourish.
Enter the Duke of Florence, BERTRAM, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others.
Duke. The general of our horse thou art; and we, Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence Upon thy promising fortune.
Sir, it is
A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
Then go thou forth; And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, As thy auspicious mistress!
1 That is, the ravenous or ravening lion.
2 The sense is, "From that place, where all the advantages that honor usually reaps from the danger it rushes upon, is only a scar in testimony of its bravery, as, on the other hand, it often is the cause of losing all, even life itself."