diff options
Diffstat (limited to '2246-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2246-0.txt | 4058 |
1 files changed, 4058 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/2246-0.txt b/2246-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e1cff4 --- /dev/null +++ b/2246-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4058 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2246 *** + + +Executive Director's Notes: + +In addition to the notes below, and so you will *NOT* think all +the spelling errors introduced by the printers of the time have +been corrected, here are the first few lines of Hamlet, as they +are presented herein: + + Barnardo. Who's there? + Fran. Nay answer me: Stand & vnfold +your selfe + + Bar. Long liue the King + + * * * * * + +As I understand it, the printers often ran out of certain words +or letters they had often packed into a "cliche". . .this is the +original meaning of the term cliche. . .and thus, being unwilling +to unpack the cliches, and thus you will see some substitutions +that look very odd. . .such as the exchanges of u for v, v for u, +above. . .and you may wonder why they did it this way, presuming +Shakespeare did not actually write the play in this manner. . . . + +The answer is that they MAY have packed "liue" into a cliche at a +time when they were out of "v"'s. . .possibly having used "vv" in +place of some "w"'s, etc. This was a common practice of the day, +as print was still quite expensive, and they didn't want to spend +more on a wider selection of characters than they had to. + +You will find a lot of these kinds of "errors" in this text, as I +have mentioned in other times and places, many "scholars" have an +extreme attachment to these errors, and many have accorded them a +very high place in the "canon" of Shakespeare. My father read an +assortment of these made available to him by Cambridge University +in England for several months in a glass room constructed for the +purpose. To the best of my knowledge he read ALL those available +. . .in great detail. . .and determined from the various changes, +that Shakespeare most likely did not write in nearly as many of a +variety of errors we credit him for, even though he was in/famous +for signing his name with several different spellings. + +So, please take this into account when reading the comments below +made by our volunteer who prepared this file: you may see errors +that are "not" errors. . . . + +So. . .with this caveat. . .we have NOT changed the canon errors, +here is the Project Gutenberg Etext of Shakespeare's play. + +Michael S. Hart +Project Gutenberg +Executive Director + + * * * * * + +Scanner's Notes: + +What this is and isn't. This was taken from a copy of +Shakespeare's first folio and it is as close as I can come in +ASCII to the printed text. + +The elongated S's have been changed to small s's and the +conjoined ae have been changed to ae. I have left the spelling, +punctuation, capitalization as close as possible to the printed +text. I have corrected some spelling mistakes (I have put +together a spelling dictionary devised from the spellings of +the Geneva Bible and Shakespeare's First Folio and have unified +spellings according to this template), typo's and expanded +abbreviations as I have come across them. Everything within +brackets [] is what I have added. So if you don't like that you +can delete everything within the brackets if you want a purer +Shakespeare. + +Another thing that you should be aware of is that there are +textual differences between various copies of the first folio. So +there may be differences (other than what I have mentioned above) +between this and other first folio editions. This is due to the +printer's habit of setting the type and running off a number of +copies and then proofing the printed copy and correcting the type +and then continuing the printing run. The proof run wasn't thrown +away but incorporated into the printed copies. This is just the +way it is. The text I have used was a composite of more than 30 +different First Folio editions' best pages. + +David Reed + +===================================================================== + + + + +All's Well, that Ends Well + + +Actus primus. Scoena Prima. + +Enter yong Bertram Count of Rossillion, his Mother, and Helena, +Lord +Lafew, all in blacke. + + Mother. In deliuering my sonne from me, I burie a second +husband + + Ros. And I in going Madam, weep ore my +fathers death anew; but I must attend his maiesties +command, to whom I am now in Ward, euermore +in subiection + + Laf. You shall find of the King a husband Madame, +you sir a father. He that so generally is at all times good, +must of necessitie hold his vertue to you, whose worthinesse +would stirre it vp where it wanted rather then lack +it where there is such abundance + + Mo. What hope is there of his Maiesties amendment? + Laf. He hath abandon'd his Phisitions Madam, vnder +whose practises he hath persecuted time with hope, +and finds no other aduantage in the processe, but onely +the loosing of hope by time + + Mo. This yong Gentlewoman had a father, O that +had, how sad a passage tis, whose skill was almost as +great as his honestie, had it stretch'd so far, would haue +made nature immortall, and death should haue play for +lacke of worke. Would for the Kings sake hee were liuing, +I thinke it would be the death of the Kings disease + + Laf. How call'd you the man you speake of Madam? + Mo. He was famous sir in his profession, and it was +his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon + + Laf. He was excellent indeed Madam, the King very +latelie spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: hee +was skilfull enough to haue liu'd stil, if knowledge could +be set vp against mortallitie + + Ros. What is it (my good Lord) the King languishes +of? + Laf. A Fistula my Lord + + Ros. I heard not of it before + + Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was this Gentlewoman +the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon? + Mo. His sole childe my Lord, and bequeathed to my +ouer looking. I haue those hopes of her good, that her +education promises her dispositions shee inherits, which +makes faire gifts fairer: for where an vncleane mind carries +vertuous qualities, there commendations go with +pitty, they are vertues and traitors too: in her they are +the better for their simplenesse; she deriues her honestie, +and atcheeues her goodnesse + + Lafew. Your commendations Madam get from her +teares + + Mo. 'Tis the best brine a Maiden can season her praise +in. The remembrance of her father neuer approches her +heart, but the tirrany of her sorrowes takes all liuelihood +from her cheeke. No more of this Helena, go too, no +more least it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, then +to haue- + Hell. I doe affect a sorrow indeed, but I haue it too + + Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, +excessiue greefe the enemie to the liuing + + Mo. If the liuing be enemie to the greefe, the excesse +makes it soone mortall + + Ros. Maddam I desire your holie wishes + + Laf. How vnderstand we that? + Mo. Be thou blest Bertrame, and succeed thy father +In manners as in shape: thy blood and vertue +Contend for Empire in thee, and thy goodnesse +Share with thy birth-right. Loue all, trust a few, +Doe wrong to none: be able for thine enemie +Rather in power then vse: and keepe thy friend +Vnder thy owne lifes key. Be checkt for silence, +But neuer tax'd for speech. What heauen more wil, +That thee may furnish, and my prayers plucke downe, +Fall on thy head. Farwell my Lord, +'Tis an vnseason'd Courtier, good my Lord +Aduise him + + Laf. He cannot want the best +That shall attend his loue + + Mo. Heauen blesse him: Farwell Bertram + + Ro. The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoghts +be seruants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your +Mistris, and make much of her + + Laf. Farewell prettie Lady, you must hold the credit +of your father + + Hell. O were that all, I thinke not on my father, +And these great teares grace his remembrance more +Then those I shed for him. What was he like? +I haue forgott him. My imagination +Carries no fauour in't but Bertrams. +I am vndone, there is no liuing, none, +If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one, +That I should loue a bright particuler starre, +And think to wed it, he is so aboue me +In his bright radience and colaterall light, +Must I be comforted, not in his sphere; +Th' ambition in my loue thus plagues it selfe: +The hind that would be mated by the Lion +Must die for loue. 'Twas prettie, though a plague +To see him euerie houre to sit and draw +His arched browes, his hawking eie, his curles +In our hearts table: heart too capeable +Of euerie line and tricke of his sweet fauour. +But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancie +Must sanctifie his Reliques. Who comes heere? +Enter Parrolles. + +One that goes with him: I loue him for his sake, +And yet I know him a notorious Liar, +Thinke him a great way foole, solie a coward, +Yet these fixt euils sit so fit in him, +That they take place, when Vertues steely bones +Lookes bleake i'th cold wind: withall, full ofte we see +Cold wisedome waighting on superfluous follie + + Par. Saue you faire Queene + + Hel. And you Monarch + + Par. No + + Hel. And no + + Par. Are you meditating on virginitie? + Hel. I: you haue some staine of souldier in you: Let +mee aske you a question. Man is enemie to virginitie, +how may we barracado it against him? + Par. Keepe him out + + Hel. But he assailes, and our virginitie though valiant, +in the defence yet is weak: vnfold to vs some war-like +resistance + + Par. There is none: Man setting downe before you, +will vndermine you, and blow you vp + + Hel. Blesse our poore Virginity from vnderminers +and blowers vp. Is there no Military policy how Virgins +might blow vp men? + Par. Virginity beeing blowne downe, Man will +quicklier be blowne vp: marry in blowing him downe +againe, with the breach your selues made, you lose your +Citty. It is not politicke, in the Common-wealth of +Nature, to preserue virginity. Losse of Virginitie, is +rationall encrease, and there was neuer Virgin goe, till +virginitie was first lost. That you were made of, is mettall +to make Virgins. Virginitie, by beeing once lost, +may be ten times found: by being euer kept, it is euer +lost: 'tis too cold a companion: Away with't + + Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die +a Virgin + + Par. There's little can bee saide in't, 'tis against the +rule of Nature. To speake on the part of virginitie, is +to accuse your Mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. +He that hangs himselfe is a Virgin: Virginitie +murthers it selfe, and should be buried in highwayes +out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate Offendresse against +Nature. Virginitie breedes mites, much like a +Cheese, consumes it selfe to the very payring, and so +dies with feeding his owne stomacke. Besides, Virginitie +is peeuish, proud, ydle, made of selfe-loue, which +is the most inhibited sinne in the Cannon. Keepe it not, +you cannot choose but loose by't. Out with't: within +ten yeare it will make it selfe two, which is a goodly increase, +and the principall it selfe not much the worse. +Away with't + + Hel. How might one do sir, to loose it to her owne +liking? + Par. Let mee see. Marry ill, to like him that ne're +it likes. 'Tis a commodity wil lose the glosse with lying: +The longer kept, the lesse worth: Off with't while 'tis +vendible. Answer the time of request, Virginitie like +an olde Courtier, weares her cap out of fashion, richly +suted, but vnsuteable, iust like the brooch & the tooth-pick, +which were not now: your Date is better in your +Pye and your Porredge, then in your cheeke: and your +virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French +wither'd peares, it lookes ill, it eates drily, marry 'tis a +wither'd peare: it was formerly better, marry yet 'tis a +wither'd peare: Will you any thing with it? + Hel. Not my virginity yet: +There shall your Master haue a thousand loues, +A Mother, and a Mistresse, and a friend, +A Phenix, Captaine, and an enemy, +A guide, a Goddesse, and a Soueraigne, +A Counsellor, a Traitoresse, and a Deare: +His humble ambition, proud humility: +His iarring, concord: and his discord, dulcet: +His faith, his sweet disaster: with a world +Of pretty fond adoptious christendomes +That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he: +I know not what he shall, God send him well, +The Courts a learning place, and he is one + + Par. What one ifaith? + Hel. That I wish well, 'tis pitty + + Par. What's pitty? + Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't, +Which might be felt, that we the poorer borne, +Whose baser starres do shut vs vp in wishes, +Might with effects of them follow our friends, +And shew what we alone must thinke, which neuer +Returnes vs thankes. +Enter Page. + + Pag. Monsieur Parrolles, +My Lord cals for you + + Par. Little Hellen farewell, if I can remember thee, I +will thinke of thee at Court + + Hel. Monsieur Parolles, you were borne vnder a +charitable starre + + Par. Vnder Mars I + + Hel. I especially thinke, vnder Mars + + Par. Why vnder Mars? + Hel. The warres hath so kept you vnder, that you +must needes be borne vnder Mars + + Par. When he was predominant + + Hel. When he was retrograde I thinke rather + + Par. Why thinke you so? + Hel. You go so much backward when you fight + + Par. That's for aduantage + + Hel. So is running away, +When feare proposes the safetie: +But the composition that your valour and feare makes +in you, is a vertue of a good wing, and I like the +weare well + + Paroll. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answere +thee acutely: I will returne perfect Courtier, in the +which my instruction shall serue to naturalize thee, so +thou wilt be capeable of a Courtiers councell, and vnderstand +what aduice shall thrust vppon thee, else thou +diest in thine vnthankfulnes, and thine ignorance makes +thee away, farewell: When thou hast leysure, say thy +praiers: when thou hast none, remember thy Friends: +Get thee a good husband, and vse him as he vses thee: +So farewell + + Hel. Our remedies oft in our selues do lye, +Which we ascribe to heauen: the fated skye +Giues vs free scope, onely doth backward pull +Our slow designes, when we our selues are dull. +What power is it, which mounts my loue so hye, +That makes me see, and cannot feede mine eye? +The mightiest space in fortune, Nature brings +To ioyne like, likes; and kisse like natiue things. +Impossible be strange attempts to those +That weigh their paines in sence, and do suppose +What hath beene, cannot be. Who euer stroue +To shew her merit, that did misse her loue? +(The Kings disease) my proiect may deceiue me, +But my intents are fixt, and will not leaue me. + +Exit + +Flourish Cornets. Enter the King of France with Letters, and diuers +Attendants. + + King. The Florentines and Senoys are by th' eares, +Haue fought with equall fortune, and continue +A brauing warre + + 1.Lo.G. So tis reported sir + + King. Nay tis most credible, we heere receiue it, +A certaintie vouch'd from our Cosin Austria, +With caution, that the Florentine will moue vs +For speedie ayde: wherein our deerest friend +Preiudicates the businesse, and would seeme +To haue vs make deniall + + 1.Lo.G. His loue and wisedome +Approu'd so to your Maiesty, may pleade +For amplest credence + + King. He hath arm'd our answer, +And Florence is deni'de before he comes: +Yet for our Gentlemen that meane to see +The Tuscan seruice, freely haue they leaue +To stand on either part + + 2.Lo.E. It well may serue +A nursserie to our Gentrie, who are sicke +For breathing, and exploit + + King. What's he comes heere. +Enter Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles. + + 1.Lor.G. It is the Count Rosignoll my good Lord, +Yong Bertram + + King. Youth, thou bear'st thy Fathers face, +Franke Nature rather curious then in hast +Hath well compos'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts +Maist thou inherit too: Welcome to Paris + + Ber. My thankes and dutie are your Maiesties + + Kin. I would I had that corporall soundnesse now, +As when thy father, and my selfe, in friendship +First tride our souldiership: he did looke farre +Into the seruice of the time, and was +Discipled of the brauest. He lasted long, +But on vs both did haggish Age steale on, +And wore vs out of act: It much repaires me +To talke of your good father; in his youth +He had the wit, which I can well obserue +To day in our yong Lords: but they may iest +Till their owne scorne returne to them vnnoted +Ere they can hide their leuitie in honour: +So like a Courtier, contempt nor bitternesse +Were in his pride, or sharpnesse; if they were, +His equall had awak'd them, and his honour +Clocke to it selfe, knew the true minute when +Exception bid him speake: and at this time +His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him, +He vs'd as creatures of another place, +And bow'd his eminent top to their low rankes, +Making them proud of his humilitie, +In their poore praise he humbled: Such a man +Might be a copie to these yonger times; +Which followed well, would demonstrate them now +But goers backward + + Ber. His good remembrance sir +Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe: +So in approofe liues not his Epitaph, +As in your royall speech + + King. Would I were with him he would alwaies say, +(Me thinkes I heare him now) his plausiue words +He scatter'd not in eares, but grafted them +To grow there and to beare: Let me not liue, +This his good melancholly oft began +On the Catastrophe and heele of pastime +When it was out: Let me not liue (quoth hee) +After my flame lackes oyle, to be the snuffe +Of yonger spirits, whose apprehensiue senses +All but new things disdaine; whose iudgements are +Meere fathers of their garments: whose constancies +Expire before their fashions: this he wish'd. +I after him, do after him wish too: +Since I nor wax nor honie can bring home, +I quickly were dissolued from my hiue +To giue some Labourers roome + + 2.L.E. You'r loued Sir, +They that least lend it you, shall lacke you first + + Kin. I fill a place I know't: how long ist Count +Since the Physitian at your fathers died? +He was much fam'd + + Ber. Some six moneths since my Lord + + Kin. If he were liuing, I would try him yet. +Lend me an arme: the rest haue worne me out +With seuerall applications: Nature and sicknesse +Debate it at their leisure. Welcome Count, +My sonne's no deerer + + Ber. Thanke your Maiesty. + +Exit + +Flourish. + +Enter Countesse, Steward, and Clowne. + + Coun. I will now heare, what say you of this gentlewoman + + Ste. Maddam the care I haue had to euen your content, +I wish might be found in the Kalender of my past +endeuours, for then we wound our Modestie, and make +foule the clearnesse of our deseruings, when of our selues +we publish them + + Coun. What doe's this knaue heere? Get you gone +sirra: the complaints I haue heard of you I do not all beleeue, +'tis my slownesse that I doe not: For I know you +lacke not folly to commit them, & haue abilitie enough +to make such knaueries yours + + Clo. 'Tis not vnknown to you Madam, I am a poore +fellow + + Coun. Well sir + + Clo. No maddam, +'Tis not so well that I am poore, though manie +of the rich are damn'd, but if I may haue your Ladiships +good will to goe to the world, Isbell the woman and I +will doe as we may + + Coun. Wilt thou needes be a begger? + Clo. I doe beg your good will in this case + + Cou. In what case? + Clo. In Isbels case and mine owne: seruice is no heritage, +and I thinke I shall neuer haue the blessing of God, +till I haue issue a my bodie: for they say barnes are blessings + + Cou. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marrie? + Clo. My poore bodie Madam requires it, I am driuen +on by the flesh, and hee must needes goe that the diuell +driues + + Cou. Is this all your worships reason? + Clo. Faith Madam I haue other holie reasons, such as +they are + + Cou. May the world know them? + Clo. I haue beene Madam a wicked creature, as you +and all flesh and blood are, and indeede I doe marrie that +I may repent + + Cou. Thy marriage sooner then thy wickednesse + + Clo. I am out a friends Madam, and I hope to haue +friends for my wiues sake + + Cou. Such friends are thine enemies knaue + + Clo. Y'are shallow Madam in great friends, for the +knaues come to doe that for me which I am a wearie of: +he that eres my Land, spares my teame, and giues mee +leaue to Inne the crop: if I be his cuckold hee's my +drudge; he that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of +my flesh and blood; hee that cherishes my flesh and +blood, loues my flesh and blood; he that loues my flesh +and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses my wife is my +friend: if men could be contented to be what they are, +there were no feare in marriage, for yong Charbon the +Puritan, and old Poysam the Papist, how somere their +hearts are seuer'd in Religion, their heads are both one, +they may ioule horns together like any Deare i'th Herd + + Cou. Wilt thou euer be a foule mouth'd and calumnious +knaue? + Clo. A Prophet I Madam, and I speake the truth the +next waie, for I the Ballad will repeate, which men full +true shall finde, your marriage comes by destinie, your +Cuckow sings by kinde + + Cou. Get you gone sir, Ile talke with you more anon + + Stew. May it please you Madam, that hee bid Hellen +come to you, of her I am to speake + + Cou. Sirra tell my gentlewoman I would speake with +her, Hellen I meane + + Clo. Was this faire face the cause, quoth she, +Why the Grecians sacked Troy, +Fond done, done, fond was this King Priams ioy, +With that she sighed as she stood, + +bis + +And gaue this sentence then, among nine bad if one be +good, among nine bad if one be good, there's yet one +good in ten + + Cou. What, one good in tenne? you corrupt the song +sirra + + Clo. One good woman in ten Madam, which is a purifying +ath' song: would God would serue the world so +all the yeere, weed finde no fault with the tithe woman +if I were the Parson, one in ten quoth a? and wee might +haue a good woman borne but ore euerie blazing starre, +or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the Lotterie well, a +man may draw his heart out ere a plucke one + + Cou. Youle begone sir knaue, and doe as I command +you? + Clo. That man should be at womans command, and +yet no hurt done, though honestie be no Puritan, yet +it will doe no hurt, it will weare the Surplis of humilitie +ouer the blacke-Gowne of a bigge heart: I am going +forsooth, the businesse is for Helen to come hither. +Enter. + + Cou. Well now + + Stew. I know Madam you loue your Gentlewoman +intirely + + Cou. Faith I doe: her Father bequeath'd her to mee, +and she her selfe without other aduantage, may lawfullie +make title to as much loue as shee findes, there is +more owing her then is paid, and more shall be paid +her then sheele demand + + Stew. Madam, I was verie late more neere her then +I thinke shee wisht mee, alone shee was, and did +communicate to her selfe her owne words to her +owne eares, shee thought, I dare vowe for her, they +toucht not anie stranger sence, her matter was, shee +loued your Sonne; Fortune shee said was no goddesse, +that had put such difference betwixt their two +estates: Loue no god, that would not extend his might +onelie, where qualities were leuell, Queene of Virgins, +that would suffer her poore Knight surpris'd +without rescue in the first assault or ransome afterward: +This shee deliuer'd in the most bitter touch of +sorrow that ere I heard Virgin exclaime in, which I held +my dutie speedily to acquaint you withall, sithence in +the losse that may happen, it concernes you something +to know it + + Cou. You haue discharg'd this honestlie, keepe it +to your selfe, manie likelihoods inform'd mee of this +before, which hung so tottring in the ballance, that +I could neither beleeue nor misdoubt: praie you +leaue mee, stall this in your bosome, and I thanke +you for your honest care: I will speake with you further +anon. + +Exit Steward. + +Enter Hellen. + + Old.Cou. Euen so it was with me when I was yong: +If euer we are natures, these are ours, this thorne +Doth to our Rose of youth rightlie belong +Our bloud to vs, this to our blood is borne, +It is the show, and seale of natures truth, +Where loues strong passion is imprest in youth, +By our remembrances of daies forgon, +Such were our faults, or then we thought them none, +Her eie is sicke on't, I obserue her now + + Hell. What is your pleasure Madam? + Ol.Cou. You know Hellen I am a mother to you + + Hell. Mine honorable Mistris + + Ol.Cou. Nay a mother, why not a mother? when I +sed a mother +Me thought you saw a serpent, what's in mother, +That you start at it? I say I am your mother, +And put you in the Catalogue of those +That were enwombed mine, 'tis often seene +Adoption striues with nature, and choise breedes +A natiue slip to vs from forraine seedes: +You nere opprest me with a mothers groane, +Yet I expresse to you a mothers care, +(Gods mercie maiden) dos it curd thy blood +To say I am thy mother? what's the matter, +That this distempered messenger of wet? +The manie colour'd Iris rounds thine eye? - Why, that you are my +daughter? + Hell. That I am not + + Old.Cou. I say I am your Mother + + Hell. Pardon Madam. +The Count Rosillion cannot be my brother: +I am from humble, he from honored name: +No note vpon my Parents, his all noble, +My Master, my deere Lord he is, and I +His seruant liue, and will his vassall die: +He must not be my brother + + Ol.Cou. Nor I your Mother + + Hell. You are my mother Madam, would you were +So that my Lord your sonne were not my brother, +Indeede my mother, or were you both our mothers, +I care no more for, then I doe for heauen, +So I were not his sister, cant no other, +But I your daughter, he must be my brother + + Old.Cou. Yes Hellen, you might be my daughter in law, +God shield you meane it not, daughter and mother +So striue vpon your pulse; what pale agen? +My feare hath catcht your fondnesse! now I see +The mistrie of your louelinesse, and finde +Your salt teares head, now to all sence 'tis grosse: +You loue my sonne, inuention is asham'd +Against the proclamation of thy passion +To say thou doost not: therefore tell me true, +But tell me then 'tis so, for looke, thy cheekes +Confesse it 'ton tooth to th' other, and thine eies +See it so grosely showne in thy behauiours, +That in their kinde they speake it, onely sinne +And hellish obstinacie tye thy tongue +That truth should be suspected, speake, ist so? +If it be so, you haue wound a goodly clewe: +If it be not, forsweare't how ere I charge thee, +As heauen shall worke in me for thine auaile +To tell me truelie + + Hell. Good Madam pardon me + + Cou. Do you loue my Sonne? + Hell. Your pardon noble Mistris + + Cou. Loue you my Sonne? + Hell. Doe not you loue him Madam? + Cou. Goe not about; my loue hath in't a bond +Whereof the world takes note: Come, come, disclose: +The state of your affection, for your passions +Haue to the full appeach'd + + Hell. Then I confesse +Here on my knee, before high heauen and you, +That before you, and next vnto high heauen, I loue your +Sonne: +My friends were poore but honest, so's my loue: +Be not offended, for it hurts not him +That he is lou'd of me; I follow him not +By any token of presumptuous suite, +Nor would I haue him, till I doe deserue him, +Yet neuer know how that desert should be: +I know I loue in vaine, striue against hope: +Yet in this captious, and intemible Siue. +I still poure in the waters of my loue +And lacke not to loose still; thus Indian like +Religious in mine error, I adore +The Sunne that lookes vpon his worshipper, +But knowes of him no more. My deerest Madam, +Let not your hate incounter with my loue, +For louing where you doe; but if your selfe, +Whose aged honor cites a vertuous youth, +Did euer, in so true a flame of liking, +Wish chastly, and loue dearely, that your Dian +Was both her selfe and loue, O then giue pittie +To her whose state is such, that cannot choose +But lend and giue where she is sure to loose; +That seekes not to finde that, her search implies, +But riddle like, liues sweetely where she dies + + Cou. Had you not lately an intent, speake truely, +To goe to Paris? + Hell. Madam I had + + Cou. Wherefore? tell true + + Hell. I will tell truth, by grace it selfe I sweare: +You know my Father left me some prescriptions +Of rare and prou'd effects, such as his reading +And manifest experience, had collected + +For generall soueraigntie: and that he wil'd me +In heedefull'st reseruation to bestow them, +As notes, whose faculties inclusiue were, +More then they were in note: Amongst the rest, +There is a remedie, approu'd, set downe, +To cure the desperate languishings whereof +The King is render'd lost + + Cou. This was your motiue for Paris, was it, speake? + Hell. My Lord, your sonne, made me to think of this; +Else Paris, and the medicine, and the King, +Had from the conuersation of my thoughts, +Happily beene absent then + + Cou. But thinke you Hellen, +If you should tender your supposed aide, +He would receiue it? He and his Phisitions +Are of a minde, he, that they cannot helpe him: +They, that they cannot helpe, how shall they credit +A poore vnlearned Virgin, when the Schooles +Embowel'd of their doctrine, haue left off +The danger to it selfe + + Hell. There's something in't +More then my Fathers skill, which was the great'st +Of his profession, that his good receipt, +Shall for my legacie be sanctified +Byth' luckiest stars in heauen, and would your honor +But giue me leaue to trie successe, I'de venture +The well lost life of mine, on his Graces cure, +By such a day, an houre + + Cou. Doo'st thou beleeue't? + Hell. I Madam knowingly + + Cou. Why Hellen thou shalt haue my leaue and loue, +Meanes and attendants, and my louing greetings +To those of mine in Court, Ile staie at home +And praie Gods blessing into thy attempt: +Begon to morrow, and be sure of this, +What I can helpe thee to, thou shalt not misse. + +Exeunt. + + +Actus Secundus. + +Enter the King with diuers yong Lords, taking leaue for the +Florentine +warre: Count, Rosse, and Parrolles. Florish Cornets. + + King. Farewell yong Lords, these warlike principles +Doe not throw from you, and you my Lords farewell: +Share the aduice betwixt you, if both gaine, all +The guift doth stretch it selfe as 'tis receiu'd, +And is enough for both + + Lord.G. 'Tis our hope sir, +After well entred souldiers, to returne +And finde your grace in health + + King. No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart +Will not confesse he owes the mallady +That doth my life besiege: farwell yong Lords, +Whether I liue or die, be you the sonnes +Of worthy French men: let higher Italy +(Those bated that inherit but the fall +Of the last Monarchy) see that you come +Not to wooe honour, but to wed it, when +The brauest questant shrinkes: finde what you seeke, +That fame may cry you loud: I say farewell + + L.G. Health at your bidding serue your Maiesty + + King. Those girles of Italy, take heed of them, +They say our French, lacke language to deny +If they demand: beware of being Captiues +Before you serue + + Bo. Our hearts receiue your warnings + + King. Farewell, come hether to me + + 1.Lo.G. Oh my sweet Lord y you wil stay behind vs + + Parr. 'Tis not his fault the spark + + 2.Lo.E. Oh 'tis braue warres + + Parr. Most admirable, I haue seene those warres + + Rossill. I am commanded here, and kept a coyle with, +Too young, and the next yeere, and 'tis too early + + Parr. And thy minde stand too't boy, +Steale away brauely + + Rossill. I shal stay here the for-horse to a smocke, +Creeking my shooes on the plaine Masonry, +Till honour be bought vp, and no sword worne +But one to dance with: by heauen, Ile steale away + + 1.Lo.G. There's honour in the theft + + Parr. Commit it Count + + 2.Lo.E. I am your accessary, and so farewell + + Ros. I grow to you, & our parting is a tortur'd body + + 1.Lo.G. Farewell Captaine + + 2.Lo.E. Sweet Mounsier Parolles + + Parr. Noble Heroes; my sword and yours are kinne, +good sparkes and lustrous, a word good mettals. You +shall finde in the Regiment of the Spinij, one Captaine +Spurio his sicatrice, with an Embleme of warre heere on +his sinister cheeke; it was this very sword entrench'd it: +say to him I liue, and obserue his reports for me + + Lo.G. We shall noble Captaine + + Parr. Mars doate on you for his nouices, what will +ye doe? + Ross. Stay the King + + Parr. Vse a more spacious ceremonie to the Noble +Lords, you haue restrain'd your selfe within the List of +too cold an adieu: be more expressiue to them; for they +weare themselues in the cap of the time, there do muster +true gate; eat, speake, and moue vnder the influence of +the most receiu'd starre, and though the deuill leade the +measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a +more dilated farewell + + Ross. And I will doe so + + Parr. Worthy fellowes, and like to prooue most sinewie +sword-men. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Lafew. + + L.Laf. Pardon my Lord for mee and for my tidings + + King. Ile see thee to stand vp + + L.Laf. Then heres a man stands that has brought his pardon, +I would you had kneel'd my Lord to aske me mercy, +And that at my bidding you could so stand vp + + King. I would I had, so I had broke thy pate +And askt thee mercy for't + + Laf. Goodfaith a-crosse, but my good Lord 'tis thus, +Will you be cur'd of your infirmitie? + King. No + + Laf. O will you eat no grapes my royall foxe? +Yes but you will, my noble grapes, and if +My royall foxe could reach them: I haue seen a medicine +That's able to breath life into a stone, +Quicken a rocke, and make you dance Canari +With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch +Is powerfull to arayse King Pippen, nay +To giue great Charlemaine a pen in's hand +And write to her a loue-line + + King. What her is this? + Laf. Why doctor she: my Lord, there's one arriu'd, +If you will see her: now by my faith and honour, +If seriously I may conuay my thoughts +In this my light deliuerance, I haue spoke +With one, that in her sexe, her yeeres, profession, +Wisedome and constancy, hath amaz'd mee more +Then I dare blame my weakenesse: will you see her? +For that is her demand, and know her businesse? +That done, laugh well at me + + King. Now good Lafew, +Bring in the admiration, that we with thee +May spend our wonder too, or take off thine +By wondring how thou tookst it + + Laf. Nay, Ile fit you, +And not be all day neither + + King. Thus he his speciall nothing euer prologues + + Laf. Nay, come your waies. +Enter Hellen. + + King. This haste hath wings indeed + + Laf. Nay, come your waies, +This is his Maiestie, say your minde to him, +A Traitor you doe looke like, but such traitors +His Maiesty seldome feares, I am Cresseds Vncle, +That dare leaue two together, far you well. +Enter. + + King. Now faire one, do's your busines follow vs? + Hel. I my good Lord, +Gerard de Narbon was my father, +In what he did professe, well found + + King. I knew him + + Hel. The rather will I spare my praises towards him, +Knowing him is enough: on's bed of death, +Many receits he gaue me, chieflie one, +Which as the dearest issue of his practice +And of his olde experience, th' onlie darling, +He bad me store vp, as a triple eye, +Safer then mine owne two: more deare I haue so, +And hearing your high Maiestie is toucht +With that malignant cause, wherein the honour +Of my deare fathers gift, stands cheefe in power, +I come to tender it, and my appliance, +With all bound humblenesse + + King. We thanke you maiden, +But may not be so credulous of cure, +When our most learned Doctors leaue vs, and +The congregated Colledge haue concluded, +That labouring Art can neuer ransome nature +From her inaydible estate: I say we must not +So staine our iudgement, or corrupt our hope, +To prostitute our past-cure malladie +To empericks, or to disseuer so +Our great selfe and our credit, to esteeme +A sencelesse helpe, when helpe past sence we deeme + + Hell. My dutie then shall pay me for my paines: +I will no more enforce mine office on you, +Humbly intreating from your royall thoughts, +A modest one to beare me backe againe + + King. I cannot giue thee lesse to be cal'd gratefull: +Thou thoughtst to helpe me, and such thankes I giue, +As one neere death to those that wish him liue: +But what at full I know, thou knowst no part, +I knowing all my perill, thou no Art + + Hell. What I can doe, can doe no hurt to try, +Since you set vp your rest 'gainst remedie: +He that of greatest workes is finisher, +Oft does them by the weakest minister: +So holy Writ, in babes hath iudgement showne, +When Iudges haue bin babes; great flouds haue flowne +From simple sources: and great Seas haue dried +When Miracles haue by the great'st beene denied. +Oft expectation failes, and most oft there +Where most it promises: and oft it hits, +Where hope is coldest, and despaire most shifts + + King. I must not heare thee, fare thee wel kind maide, +Thy paines not vs'd, must by thy selfe be paid, +Proffers not tooke, reape thanks for their reward + + Hel. Inspired Merit so by breath is bard, +It is not so with him that all things knowes +As 'tis with vs, that square our guesse by showes: +But most it is presumption in vs, when +The help of heauen we count the act of men. +Deare sir, to my endeauors giue consent, +Of heauen, not me, make an experiment. +I am not an Imposture, that proclaime +My selfe against the leuill of mine aime, +But know I thinke, and thinke I know most sure, +My Art is not past power, nor you past cure + + King. Art thou so confident? Within what space +Hop'st thou my cure? + Hel. The greatest grace lending grace, +Ere twice the horses of the sunne shall bring +Their fiery torcher his diurnall ring, +Ere twice in murke and occidentall dampe +Moist Hesperus hath quench'd her sleepy Lampe: +Or foure and twenty times the Pylots glasse +Hath told the theeuish minutes, how they passe: +What is infirme, from your sound parts shall flie, +Health shall liue free, and sickenesse freely dye + + King. Vpon thy certainty and confidence, +What dar'st thou venter? + Hell. Taxe of impudence, +A strumpets boldnesse, a divulged shame +Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maidens name +Seard otherwise, ne worse of worst extended +With vildest torture, let my life be ended + + Kin. Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak +His powerfull sound, within an organ weake: +And what impossibility would slay +In common sence, sence saues another way: +Thy life is deere, for all that life can rate +Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate: +Youth, beauty, wisedome, courage, all +That happines and prime, can happy call: +Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate +Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate, +Sweet practiser, thy Physicke I will try, +That ministers thine owne death if I die + + Hel. If I breake time, or flinch in property +Of what I spoke, vnpittied let me die, +And well deseru'd: not helping, death's my fee, +But if I helpe, what doe you promise me + + Kin. Make thy demand + + Hel. But will you make it euen? + Kin. I by my Scepter, and my hopes of helpe + + Hel. Then shalt thou giue me with thy kingly hand +What husband in thy power I will command: +Exempted be from me the arrogance +To choose from forth the royall bloud of France, +My low and humble name to propagate +With any branch or image of thy state: +But such a one thy vassall, whom I know +Is free for me to aske, thee to bestow + + Kin. Heere is my hand, the premises obseru'd, +Thy will by my performance shall be seru'd: +So make the choice of thy owne time, for I +Thy resolv'd Patient, on thee still relye: +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 rest +Vnquestion'd welcome, and vndoubted blest. +Giue me some helpe heere hoa, if thou proceed, +As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed. + +Florish. Exit. + +Enter Countesse and Clowne. + + Lady. Come on sir, I shall now put you to the height +of your breeding + + Clown. I will shew my selfe highly fed, and lowly +taught, I know my businesse is but to the Court + + Lady. To the Court, why what place make you speciall, +when you put off that with such contempt, but to +the Court? + Clo. Truly Madam, if God haue lent a man any manners, +hee may easilie put it off at Court: hee that cannot +make a legge, put off's cap, kisse his hand, and say nothing, +has neither legge, hands, lippe, nor cap; and indeed +such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the +Court, but for me, I haue an answere will serue all men + + Lady. Marry that's a bountifull answere that fits all +questions + + Clo. It is like a Barbers chaire that fits all buttockes, +the pin buttocke, the quatch-buttocke, the brawn buttocke, +or any buttocke + + Lady. Will your answere serue fit to all questions? + Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an Atturney, +as your French Crowne for your taffety punke, as +Tibs rush for Toms fore-finger, as a pancake for Shroue-tuesday, +a Morris for May-day, as the naile to his hole, +the Cuckold to his horne, as a scolding queane to a +wrangling knaue, as the Nuns lip to the Friers mouth, +nay as the pudding to his skin + + Lady. Haue you, I say, an answere of such fitnesse for +all questions? + Clo. From below your Duke, to beneath your Constable, +it will fit any question + + Lady. It must be an answere of most monstrous size, +that must fit all demands + + Clo. But a triflle neither in good faith, if the learned +should speake truth of it: heere it is, and all that belongs +to't. Aske mee if I am a Courtier, it shall doe you no +harme to learne + + Lady. To be young againe if we could: I will bee a +foole in question, hoping to bee the wiser by your answer + + La. I pray you sir, are you a Courtier? + Clo. O Lord sir theres a simple putting off: more, +more, a hundred of them + + La. Sir I am a poore freind of yours, that loues you + + Clo. O Lord sir, thicke, thicke, spare not me + + La. I thinke sir, you can eate none of this homely +meate + + Clo. O Lord sir; nay put me too't, I warrant you + + La. You were lately whipt sir as I thinke + + Clo. O Lord sir, spare not me + + La. Doe you crie O Lord sir at your whipping, and +spare not me? Indeed your O Lord sir, is very sequent +to your whipping: you would answere very well to a +whipping if you were but bound too't + + Clo. I nere had worse lucke in my life in my O Lord +sir: I see things may serue long, but not serue euer + + La. I play the noble huswife with the time, to entertaine +it so merrily with a foole + + Clo. O Lord sir, why there't serues well agen + + La. And end sir to your businesse: giue Hellen this, +And vrge her to a present answer backe, +Commend me to my kinsmen, and my sonne, +This is not much + + Clo. Not much commendation to them + + La. Not much imployement for you, you vnderstand +me + + Clo. Most fruitfully, I am there, before my legges + + La. Hast you agen. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Count, Lafew, and Parolles. + + Ol.Laf. They say miracles are past, and we haue our +Philosophicall persons, to make moderne and familiar +things supernaturall and causelesse. Hence is it, that we +make trifles of terrours, ensconcing our selues into seeming +knowledge, when we should submit our selues to +an vnknowne feare + + Par. Why 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that +hath shot out in our latter times + + Ros. And so 'tis + + Ol.Laf. To be relinquisht of the Artists + + Par. So I say both of Galen and Paracelsus + + Ol.Laf. Of all the learned and authenticke fellowes + + Par. Right so I say + + Ol.Laf. That gaue him out incureable + + Par. Why there 'tis, so say I too + + Ol.Laf. Not to be help'd + + Par. Right, as 'twere a man assur'd of a- + Ol.Laf. Vncertaine life, and sure death + + Par. Iust, you say well: so would I haue said + + Ol.Laf. I may truly say, it is a noueltie to the world + + Par. It is indeede if you will haue it in shewing, you +shall reade it in what do ye call there + + Ol.Laf. A shewing of a heauenly effect in an earthly +Actor + + Par. That's it, I would haue said, the verie same + + Ol.Laf. Why your Dolphin is not lustier: fore mee +I speake in respect- + Par. Nay 'tis strange, 'tis very straunge, that is the +breefe and the tedious of it, and he's of a most facinerious +spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the- + Ol.Laf. Very hand of heauen + + Par. I, so I say + + Ol.Laf. In a most weake- + Par. And debile minister great power, great trancendence, +which should indeede giue vs a further vse to +be made, then alone the recou'ry of the king, as to bee + Old Laf. Generally thankfull. +Enter King, Hellen, and attendants. + + Par. I would haue said it, you say well: heere comes +the King + + Ol.Laf. Lustique, as the Dutchman saies: Ile like a +maide the Better whil'st I haue a tooth in my head: why +he's able to leade her a Carranto + + Par. Mor du vinager, is not this Helen? + Ol.Laf. Fore God I thinke so + + King. Goe call before mee all the Lords in Court, +Sit my preseruer by thy patients side, +And with this healthfull hand whose banisht sence +Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receyue +The confirmation of my promis'd guift, +Which but attends thy naming. +Enter 3 or 4 Lords. + +Faire Maide send forth thine eye, this youthfull parcell +Of Noble Batchellors, stand at my bestowing, +Ore whom both Soueraigne power, and fathers voice +I haue to vse; thy franke election make, +Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake + + Hel. To each of you, one faire and vertuous Mistris; +Fall when loue please, marry to each but one + + Old Laf. I'de giue bay curtall, and his furniture +My mouth no more were broken then these boyes, +And writ as little beard + + King. Peruse them well: +Not one of those, but had a Noble father. + +She addresses her to a Lord. + + Hel. Gentlemen, heauen hath through me, restor'd +the king to health + + All. We vnderstand it, and thanke heauen for you + + Hel. I am a simple Maide, and therein wealthiest +That I protest, I simply am a Maide: +Please it your Maiestie, I haue done already: +The blushes in my cheekes thus whisper mee, +We blush that thou shouldst choose, but be refused; +Let the white death sit on thy cheeke for euer, +Wee'l nere come there againe + + King. Make choise and see, +Who shuns thy loue, shuns all his loue in mee + + Hel. Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly, +And to imperiall loue, that God most high +Do my sighes streame: Sir, wil you heare my suite? + 1.Lo. And grant it + + Hel. Thankes sir, all the rest is mute + + Ol.Laf. I had rather be in this choise, then throw +Ames-ace for my life + + Hel. The honor sir that flames in your faire eyes, +Before I speake too threatningly replies: +Loue make your fortunes twentie times aboue +Her that so wishes, and her humble loue + + 2.Lo. No better if you please + + Hel. My wish receiue, +Which great loue grant, and so I take my leaue + + Ol.Laf. Do all they denie her? And they were sons +of mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send them +to'th Turke to make Eunuches of + + Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand should take, +Ile neuer do you wrong for your owne sake: +Blessing vpon your vowes, and in your bed +Finde fairer fortune, if you euer wed + + Old Laf. These boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none +haue heere: sure they are bastards to the English, the +French nere got em + + La. You are too young, too happie, and too good +To make your selfe a sonne out of my blood + + 4.Lord. Faire one, I thinke not so + + Ol.Lord There's one grape yet, I am sure thy father +drunke wine. But if thou be'st not an asse, I am a youth +of fourteene: I haue knowne thee already + + Hel. I dare not say I take you, but I giue +Me and my seruice, euer whilst I liue +Into your guiding power: This is the man + + King. Why then young Bertram take her shee's thy +wife + + Ber. My wife my Leige? I shal beseech your highnes +In such a busines, giue me leaue to vse +The helpe of mine owne eies + + King. Know'st thou not Bertram what shee ha's +done for mee? + Ber. Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to know +why I should marrie her + + King. Thou know'st shee ha's rais'd me from my sickly +bed + + Ber. But followes it my Lord, to bring me downe +Must answer for your raising? I knowe her well: +Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge: +A poore Physitians daughter my wife? Disdaine +Rather corrupt me euer + + King. Tis onely title thou disdainst in her, the which +I can build vp: strange is it that our bloods +Of colour, waight, and heat, pour'd all together, +Would quite confound distinction: yet stands off +In differences so mightie. If she bee +All that is vertuous (saue what thou dislik'st) +A poore Phisitians daughter, thou dislik'st +Of vertue for the name: but doe not so: +From lowest place, whence vertuous things proceed, +The place is dignified by th' doers deede. +Where great additions swell's, and vertue none, +It is a dropsied honour. Good alone, +Is good without a name? Vilenesse is so: +The propertie by what is is, should go, +Not by the title. Shee is young, wise, faire, +In these, to Nature shee's immediate heire: +And these breed honour: that is honours scorne, +Which challenges it selfe as honours borne, +And is not like the sire: Honours thriue, +When rather from our acts we them deriue +Then our fore-goers: the meere words, a slaue +Debosh'd on euerie tombe, on euerie graue: +A lying Trophee, and as oft is dumbe, +Where dust, and damn'd obliuion is the Tombe. +Of honour'd bones indeed, what should be saide? +If thou canst like this creature, as a maide, +I can create the rest: Vertue, and shee +Is her owne dower: Honour and wealth, from mee + + Ber. I cannot loue her, nor will striue to doo't + + King. Thou wrong'st thy selfe, if thou shold'st striue +to choose + + Hel. That you are well restor'd my Lord, I'me glad: +Let the rest go + + King. My Honor's at the stake, which to defeate +I must produce my power. Heere, take her hand, +Proud scornfull boy, vnworthie this good gift, +That dost in vile misprision shackle vp +My loue, and her desert: that canst not dreame, +We poizing vs in her defectiue scale, +Shall weigh thee to the beame: That wilt not know, +It is in Vs to plant thine Honour, where +We please to haue it grow. Checke thy contempt: +Obey Our will, which trauailes in thy good: +Beleeue not thy disdaine, but presentlie +Do thine owne fortunes that obedient right +Which both thy dutie owes, and Our power claimes, +Or I will throw thee from my care for euer +Into the staggers, and the carelesse lapse +Of youth and ignorance: both my reuenge and hate +Loosing vpon thee, in the name of iustice, +Without all termes of pittie. Speake, thine answer + + Ber. Pardon my gracious Lord: for I submit +My fancie to your eies, when I consider +What great creation, and what dole of honour +Flies where you bid it: I finde that she which late +Was in my Nobler thoughts, most base: is now +The praised of the King, who so ennobled, +Is as 'twere borne so + + King. Take her by the hand, +And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise +A counterpoize: If not to thy estate, +A ballance more repleat + + Ber. I take her hand + + Kin. Good fortune, and the fauour of the King +Smile vpon this Contract: whose Ceremonie +Shall seeme expedient on the now borne briefe, +And be perform'd to night: the solemne Feast +Shall more attend vpon the coming space, +Expecting absent friends. As thou lou'st her, +Thy loue's to me Religious: else, do's erre. + +Exeunt. + +Parolles and Lafew stay behind, commenting of this wedding. + + Laf. Do you heare 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. I: Is it not a Language I speake? + Par. A most harsh one, and not to bee vnderstoode +without bloudie succeeding. My Master? + Laf. Are you Companion to the Count Rosillion? + Par. To any Count, to all Counts: to what is man + + Laf. To what is Counts man: Counts maister is of +another stile + + Par. You are too old sir: Let it satisfie 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 thinke thee for two ordinaries: to bee a +prettie wise fellow, thou didst make tollerable vent of +thy trauell, it might passe: yet the scarffes and the bannerets +about thee, did manifoldlie disswade me from beleeuing +thee a vessell of too great a burthen. I haue now +found thee, when I loose thee againe, I care not: yet art +thou good for nothing but taking vp, and that th'ourt +scarce worth + + Par. Hadst thou not the priuiledge of Antiquity vpon +thee + + Laf. Do not plundge thy selfe to farre in anger, least +thou hasten thy triall: which if, Lord haue mercie on +thee for a hen, so my good window of Lettice fare thee +well, thy casement I neede not open, for I look through +thee. Giue me thy hand + + Par. My Lord, you giue me most egregious indignity + + Laf. I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it + + Par. I haue not my Lord deseru'd it + + Laf. Yes good faith, eu'ry dramme of it, and I will +not bate thee a scruple + + Par. Well, I shall be wiser + + Laf. Eu'n as soone as thou can'st, for thou hast to pull +at a smacke a'th contrarie. If euer thou bee'st bound +in thy skarfe and beaten, thou shall finde what it is to be +proud of thy bondage, I haue a desire to holde 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 paines for thy sake, and my +poore doing eternall: for doing I am past, as I will by +thee, in what motion age will giue me leaue. +Enter. + + Par. Well, thou hast a sonne shall take this disgrace +off me; scuruy, old, filthy, scuruy Lord: Well, I must +be patient, there is no fettering of authority. Ile beate +him (by my life) if I can meete him with any conuenience, +and he were double and double a Lord. Ile haue +no more pittie of his age then I would haue of- Ile +beate him, and if I could but meet him agen. +Enter Lafew. + + Laf. Sirra, your Lord and masters married, there's +newes for you: you haue a new Mistris + + Par. I most vnfainedly beseech your Lordshippe to +make some reseruation of your wrongs. He is my good +Lord, whom I serue aboue is my master + + Laf. Who? God + + Par. I sir + + Laf. The deuill it is, that's thy master. Why dooest +thou garter vp thy armes a this fashion? Dost make hose +of thy sleeues? Do other seruants so? Thou wert best set +thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine Honor, +if I were but two houres yonger, I'de beate thee: mee-think'st +thou art a generall offence, and euery man shold +beate thee: I thinke thou wast created for men to breath +themselues vpon thee + + Par. This is hard and vndeserued measure my Lord + + Laf. Go too sir, you were beaten in Italy for picking +a kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, and +no true traueller: you are more sawcie with Lordes and +honourable personages, then the Commission of your +birth and vertue giues you Heraldry. You are not worth +another word, else I'de call you knaue. I leaue you. + +Exit + +Enter Count Rossillion. + + Par. Good, very good, it is so then: good, very +good, let it be conceal'd awhile + + Ros. Vndone, and forfeited to cares for euer + + Par. What's the matter sweet-heart? + Rossill. Although before the solemne Priest I haue +sworne, I will not bed her + + Par. What? what sweet heart? + Ros. O my Parrolles, they haue married me: +Ile to the Tuscan warres, and neuer bed her + + Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits, +The tread of a mans foot: too'th warres + + Ros. There's letters from my mother: What th' import +is, I know not yet + + Par. I that would be knowne: too'th warrs my boy, +too'th warres: +He weares his honor in a boxe vnseene, +That hugges his kickie wickie heare at home, +Spending his manlie marrow in her armes +Which should sustaine the bound and high curuet +Of Marses fierie steed: to other Regions, +France is a stable, wee that dwell in't Iades, +Therefore too'th warre + + Ros. It shall be so, Ile 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 speake. His present gift +Shall furnish me to those Italian fields +Where noble fellowes strike: Warres is no strife +To the darke house, and the detected wife + + Par. Will this Caprichio hold in thee, art sure? + Ros. Go with me to my chamber, and aduice me. +Ile send her straight away: To morrow, +Ile to the warres, she to her single sorrow + + Par. Why these bals bound, ther's noise in it. Tis hard +A yong man maried, is a man that's mard: +Therefore away, and leaue her brauely: go, +The King ha's done you wrong: but hush 'tis so. + +Exit + +Enter Helena and Clowne. + + Hel. My mother greets me kindly, is she well? + Clo. She is not well, but yet she has her health, she's +very merrie, but yet she is not well: but thankes be giuen +she's very well, and wants nothing i'th world: but +yet she is not well + + Hel. If she be verie wel, what do's she ayle, that she's +not verie well? + Clo. Truly she's very well indeed, but for two things + Hel. What two things? + Clo. One, that she's not in heauen, whether God send +her quickly: the other, that she's in earth, from whence +God send her quickly. +Enter Parolles. + + Par. Blesse you my fortunate Ladie + + Hel. I hope sir I haue your good will to haue mine +owne good fortune + + Par. You had my prayers to leade them on, and to +keepe them on, haue them still. O my knaue, how do's +my old Ladie? + 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 mans +tongue shakes out his masters vndoing: to say nothing, +to do nothing, to know nothing, and to haue nothing, +is to be a great part of your title, which is within a verie +little of nothing + + Par. Away, th'art a knaue + + Clo. You should haue said sir before a knaue, th'art a +knaue, that's before me th'art a knaue: this had beene +truth sir + + Par. Go too, thou art a wittie foole, I haue found +thee + + Clo. Did you finde me in your selfe sir, or were you +taught to finde me? + Clo. The search sir was profitable, and much Foole +may you find in you, euen to the worlds pleasure, and the +encrease of laughter + + Par. A good knaue ifaith, and well fed. +Madam, my Lord will go awaie to night, +A verie serrious businesse call's on him: +The great prerogatiue and rite of loue, +Which as your due time claimes, he do's acknowledge, +But puts it off to a compell'd restraint: +Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets +Which they distill now in the curbed time, +To make the comming houre oreflow with ioy, +And pleasure drowne the brim + + Hel. What's his will else? + Par. That you will take your instant leaue a'th king, +And make this hast as your owne good proceeding, +Strengthned with what Apologie you thinke +May make it probable neede + + Hel. What more commands hee? + Par. That hauing this obtain'd, you presentlie +Attend his further pleasure + + Hel. In euery thing I waite vpon his will + + Par. I shall report it so. + +Exit Par. + + Hell. I pray you come sirrah. + +Exit + +Enter Lafew and Bertram. + + Laf. But I hope your Lordshippe thinkes not him a +souldier + + Ber. Yes my Lord and of verie valiant approofe + + Laf. You haue it from his owne deliuerance + + Ber. And by other warranted testimonie + + Laf. Then my Diall goes not true, I tooke this Larke +for a bunting + + Ber. I do assure you my Lord he is very great in knowledge, +and accordinglie valiant + + Laf. I haue then sinn'd against his experience, and +transgrest against his valour, and my state that way is +dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent: +Heere he comes, I pray you make vs freinds, I will pursue +the amitie. +Enter Parolles. + + Par. These things shall be done sir + + Laf. Pray you sir whose his Tailor? + Par. Sir? + Laf. O I know him well, I sir, hee sirs a good workeman, +a verie good Tailor + + Ber. Is shee gone to the king? + Par. Shee is + + Ber. Will shee away to night? + Par. As you'le haue her + + Ber. I haue writ my letters, casketted my treasure, +Giuen order for our horses, and to night, +When I should take possession of the Bride, +And ere I doe begin + + Laf. A good Trauailer is something at the latter end +of a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and vses a +known truth to passe a thousand nothings with, should +bee once hard, and thrice beaten. God saue you Captaine + + Ber. Is there any vnkindnes betweene my Lord and +you Monsieur? + Par. I know not how I haue deserued to run into my +Lords displeasure + + Laf. You haue made shift to run into't, bootes and +spurres and all: like him that leapt into the Custard, and +out of it you'le runne againe, rather then suffer question +for your residence + + Ber. It may bee you haue mistaken him my Lord + + Laf. And shall doe so euer, though I tooke him at's +prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeue this of +me, there can be no kernell in this light Nut: the soule +of this man is his cloathes: Trust him not in matter of +heauie consequence: I haue kept of them tame, & know +their natures. Farewell Monsieur, I haue spoken better +of you, then you haue or will to deserue at my hand, but +we must do good against euill + + Par. An idle Lord, I sweare + + Ber. I thinke so + + Par. Why do you not know him? + Ber. Yes, I do know him well, and common speech +Giues him a worthy passe. Heere comes my clog. +Enter Helena. + + Hel. I haue sir as I was commanded from you +Spoke with the King, and haue procur'd his leaue +For present parting, onely he desires +Some priuate speech with you + + Ber. I shall obey his will. +You must not meruaile 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 businesse, therefore am I found +So much vnsetled: This driues me to intreate you, +That presently you take your way for home, +And rather muse then aske why I intreate you, +For my respects are better then they seeme, +And my appointments haue in them a neede +Greater then shewes it selfe at the first view, +To you that know them not. This to my mother, +'Twill be two daies ere I shall see you, so +I leaue you to your wisedome + + Hel. Sir, I can nothing say, +But that I am your most obedient seruant + + Ber. Come, come, no more of that + + Hel. And euer shall +With true obseruance seeke to eeke out that +Wherein toward me my homely starres haue faild +To equall my great fortune + + Ber. Let that goe: my hast is verie great. Farwell: +Hie home + + Hel. Pray sir your pardon + + Ber. Well, what would you say? + Hel. I am not worthie of the wealth I owe, +Nor dare I say 'tis mine: and yet it is, +But like a timorous theefe, most faine would steale +What law does vouch mine owne + + Ber. What would you haue? + Hel. Something, and scarse so much: nothing indeed, +I would not tell you what I would my Lord: Faith yes, +Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kisse + + Ber. I pray you stay not, but in hast to horse + + Hel. I shall not breake your bidding, good my Lord: +Where are my other men? Monsieur, farwell. + +Exit + + Ber. Go thou toward home, where I wil neuer come, +Whilst I can shake my sword, or heare the drumme: +Away, and for our flight + + Par. Brauely, Coragio. + +Actus Tertius. + +Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, the two Frenchmen, with a +troope of +Souldiers. + + Duke. So that from point to point, now haue you heard +The fundamentall reasons of this warre, +Whose great decision hath much blood let forth +And more thirsts after + + 1.Lord. Holy seemes the quarrell +Vpon your Graces part: blacke and fearefull +On the opposer + + Duke. Therefore we meruaile much our Cosin France +Would in so iust a businesse, shut his bosome +Against our borrowing prayers + + French E. Good my Lord, +The reasons of our state I cannot yeelde, +But like a common and an outward man, +That the great figure of a Counsaile frames, +By selfe vnable motion, therefore dare not +Say what I thinke of it, since I haue found +My selfe in my incertaine grounds to faile +As often as I guest + + Duke. Be it his pleasure + + Fren.G. But I am sure the yonger of our nature, +That surfet on their ease, will day by day +Come heere for Physicke + + Duke. Welcome shall they bee: +And all the honors that can flye from vs, +Shall on them settle: you know your places well, +When better fall, for your auailes they fell, +To morrow to'th the field. + +Flourish. + +Enter Countesse and Clowne. + + Count. It hath happen'd all, as I would haue had it, saue +that he comes not along with her + + Clo. By my troth I take my young Lord to be a verie +melancholly man + + Count. By what obseruance I pray you + + Clo. Why he will looke vppon his boote, and sing: +mend the Ruffe and sing, aske questions and sing, picke +his teeth, and sing: I know a man that had this tricke of +melancholy hold a goodly Mannor for a song + + Lad. Let me see what he writes, and when he meanes +to come + + Clow. I haue no minde to Isbell since I was at Court. +Our old Lings, and our Isbels a'th Country, are nothing +like your old Ling and your Isbels a'th Court: the brains +of my Cupid's knock'd out, and I beginne to loue, as an +old man loues money, with no stomacke + + Lad. What haue we heere? + Clo. In that you haue there. + +Exit + +A Letter. + +I haue sent you a daughter-in-Law, shee hath recouered the +King, and vndone me: I haue wedded her, not bedded her, +and sworne to make the not eternall. You shall heare I am +runne away, know it before the report come. If there bee +bredth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My +duty to you. Your vnfortunate sonne, +Bertram. +This is not well rash and vnbridled boy, +To flye the fauours of so good a King, +To plucke his indignation on thy head, +By the misprising of a Maide too vertuous +For the contempt of Empire. +Enter Clowne. + + Clow. O Madam, yonder is heauie newes within betweene +two souldiers, and my yong Ladie + + La. What is the matter + + Clo. Nay there is some comfort in the newes, some +comfort, your sonne will not be kild so soone as I thoght +he would + + La. Why should he be kill'd? + Clo. So say I Madame, if he runne away, as I heare he +does, the danger is in standing too't, that's the losse of +men, though it be the getting of children. Heere they +come will tell you more. For my part I onely heare your +sonne was run away. +Enter Hellen and two Gentlemen. + + French E. Saue you good Madam + + Hel. Madam, my Lord is gone, for euer gone + + French G. Do not say so + + La. Thinke vpon patience, pray you Gentlemen, +I haue felt so many quirkes of ioy and greefe, +That the first face of neither on the start +Can woman me vntoo't. Where is my sonne I pray you? + Fren.G. Madam he's gone to serue the Duke of Florence, +We met him thitherward, for thence we came: +And after some dispatch in hand at Court, +Thither we bend againe + + Hel. Looke on his Letter Madam, here's my Pasport. +When thou canst get the Ring vpon my finger, which neuer +shall come off, and shew mee a childe begotten of thy bodie, +that I am father too, then call me husband: but in such a (then) +I write a Neuer. +This is a dreadfull sentence + + La. Brought you this Letter Gentlemen? + 1.G. I Madam, and for the Contents sake are sorrie +for our paines + + Old La. I prethee Ladie haue a better cheere, +If thou engrossest, all the greefes are thine, +Thou robst me of a moity: He was my sonne, +But I do wash his name out of my blood, +And thou art all my childe. Towards Florence is he? + Fren.G. I Madam + + La. And to be a souldier + + Fren.G. Such is his noble purpose, and beleeu't +The Duke will lay vpon him all the honor +That good conuenience claimes + + La. Returne you thither + + Fren.E. I Madam, with the swiftest wing of speed + + Hel. Till I haue no wife, I haue nothing in France, +'Tis bitter + + La. Finde you that there? + Hel. I Madame + + Fren.E. 'Tis but the boldnesse of his hand haply, which +his heart was not consenting too + + Lad. Nothing in France, vntill he haue no wife: +There's nothing heere that is too good for him +But onely she, and she deserues a Lord +That twenty such rude boyes might tend vpon, +And call her hourely Mistris. Who was with him? + Fren.E. A seruant onely, and a Gentleman: which I +haue sometime knowne + + La. Parolles was it not? + Fren.E. I my good Ladie, hee + + La. A verie tainted fellow, and full of wickednesse, +My sonne corrupts a well deriued nature +With his inducement + + Fren.E. Indeed good Ladie the fellow has a deale of +that, too much, which holds him much to haue + + La. Y'are welcome Gentlemen, I will intreate you +when you see my sonne, to tell him that his sword can +neuer winne the honor that he looses: more Ile intreate +you written to beare along + + Fren.G. We serue you Madam in that and all your +worthiest affaires + + La. Not so, but as we change our courtesies, +Will you draw neere? +Enter. + + Hel. Till I haue no wife I haue nothing in France. +Nothing in France vntill he has no wife: +Thou shalt haue none Rossillion, none in France, +Then hast thou all againe: poore Lord, is't I +That chase thee from thy Countrie, and expose +Those tender limbes of thine, to the euent +Of the none-sparing warre? And is it I, +That driue thee from the sportiue Court, where thou +Was't shot at with faire eyes, to be the marke +Of smoakie Muskets? O you leaden messengers, +That ride vpon the violent speede of fire, +Fly with false ayme, moue the still-peering aire +That sings with piercing, do not touch my Lord: +Who euer shoots at him, I set him there. +Who euer charges on his forward brest +I am the Caitiffe that do hold him too't, +And though I kill him not, I am the cause +His death was so effected: Better 'twere +I met the rauine Lyon when he roar'd +With sharpe constraint of hunger: better 'twere, +That all the miseries which nature owes +Were mine at once. No come thou home Rossillion, +Whence honor but of danger winnes a scarre, +As oft it looses all. I will be gone: +My being heere it is, that holds thee hence, +Shall I stay heere to doo't? No, no, although +The ayre of Paradise did fan the house, +And Angels offic'd all: I will be gone, +That pittifull rumour may report my flight +To consolate thine eare. Come night, end day, +For with the darke (poore theefe) Ile steale away. +Enter. + + +Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, Rossillion, drum and +trumpets, +soldiers, Parrolles. + + Duke. The Generall of our horse thou art, and we +Great in our hope, lay our best loue and credence +Vpon thy promising fortune + + Ber. Sir it is +A charge too heauy for my strength, but yet +Wee'l striue to beare it for your worthy sake, +To th' extreme edge of hazard + + Duke. Then go thou forth, +And fortune play vpon thy prosperous helme +As thy auspicious mistris + + Ber. This very day +Great Mars I put my selfe into thy file, +Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall proue +A louer of thy drumme, hater of loue. + +Exeunt. omnes +Enter Countesse & Steward. + + La. Alas! and would you take the letter of her: +Might you not know she would do, as she has done, +By sending me a Letter. Reade it agen. + +Letter. + +I am S[aint]. Iaques Pilgrim, thither gone: +Ambitious loue hath so in me offended, +That bare-foot plod I the cold ground vpon +With sainted vow my faults to haue amended +Write, write, that from the bloodie course of warre, +My deerest Master your deare sonne, may hie, +Blesse him at home in peace. Whilst I from farre, +His name with zealous feruour sanctifie: +His taken labours bid him me forgiue: +I his despightfull Iuno sent him forth, +From Courtly friends, with Camping foes to liue, +Where death and danger dogges the heeles of worth. +He is too good and faire for death, and mee, +Whom I my selfe embrace, to set him free. +Ah what sharpe stings are in her mildest words? +Rynaldo, you did neuer lacke aduice so much, +As letting her passe so: had I spoke with her, +I could haue well diuerted her intents, +Which thus she hath preuented + + Ste. Pardon me Madam, +If I had giuen you this at ouer-night, +She might haue beene ore-tane: and yet she writes +Pursuite would be but vaine + + La. What Angell shall +Blesse this vnworthy husband, he cannot thriue, +Vnlesse her prayers, whom heauen delights to heare +And loues to grant, repreeue him from the wrath +Of greatest Iustice. Write, write Rynaldo, +To this vnworthy husband of his wife, +Let euerie word waigh heauie of her worth, +That he does waigh too light: my greatest greefe, +Though little he do feele it, set downe sharpely. +Dispatch the most conuenient messenger, +When haply he shall heare that she is gone, +He will returne, and hope I may that shee +Hearing so much, will speede her foote againe, +Led hither by pure loue: which of them both +Is deerest to me, I haue no skill in sence +To make distinction: prouide this Messenger: +My heart is heauie, and mine age is weake, +Greefe would haue teares, and sorrow bids me speake. + +Exeunt. + +A Tucket afarre off. + +Enter old Widdow of Florence, her daughter Violenta and +Mariana, with +other Citizens. + + Widdow. Nay come, +For if they do approach the Citty, +We shall loose all the sight + + Diana. They say, the French Count has done +Most honourable seruice + + Wid. It is reported, +That he has taken their great'st Commander, +And that with his owne hand he slew +The Dukes brother: we haue lost our labour, +They are gone a contrarie way: harke, +you may know by their Trumpets + + Maria. Come lets returne againe, +And suffice our selues with the report of it. +Well Diana, take heed of this French Earle, +The honor of a Maide is her name, +And no Legacie is so rich +As honestie + + Widdow. I haue told my neighbour +How you haue beene solicited by a Gentleman +His Companion + + Maria. I know that knaue, hang him, one Parolles, +a filthy Officer he is in those suggestions for the young +Earle, beware of them Diana; their promises, entisements, +oathes, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are +not the things they go vnder: many a maide hath beene +seduced by them, and the miserie is example, that so +terrible shewes in the wracke of maiden-hood, cannot +for all that disswade succession, but that they are limed +with the twigges that threatens them. I hope I neede +not to aduise you further, but I hope your owne grace +will keepe you where you are, though there were no +further danger knowne, but the modestie which is so +lost + + Dia. You shall not neede to feare me. +Enter Hellen. + + Wid. I hope so: looke here comes a pilgrim, I know +she will lye at my house, thither they send one another, +Ile question her. God saue you pilgrim, whether are +bound? + Hel. To S[aint]. Iaques la grand. +Where do the Palmers lodge, I do beseech you? + Wid. At the S[aint]. Francis heere beside the Port + + Hel. Is this the way? + +A march afarre. + + Wid. I marrie ist. Harke you, they come this way: +If you will tarrie holy Pilgrime +But till the troopes come by, +I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd, +The rather for I thinke I know your hostesse +As ample as my selfe + + Hel. Is it your selfe? + Wid. If you shall please so Pilgrime + + Hel. I thanke you, and will stay vpon your leisure + + Wid. You came I thinke from France? + Hel. I did so + + Wid. Heere you shall see a Countriman of yours +That has done worthy seruice + + Hel. His name I pray you? + Dia. The Count Rossillion: know you such a one? + Hel. But by the eare that heares most nobly of him: +His face I know not + + Dia. What somere he is +He's brauely taken heere. He stole from France +As 'tis reported: for the King had married him +Against his liking. Thinke you it is so? + Hel. I surely meere the truth, I know his Lady + + Dia. There is a Gentleman that serues the Count, +Reports but coursely of her + + Hel. What's his name? + Dia. Monsieur Parrolles + + Hel. Oh I beleeue with him, +In argument of praise, or to the worth +Of the great Count himselfe, she is too meane +To haue her name repeated, all her deseruing +Is a reserued honestie, and that +I haue not heard examin'd + + Dian. Alas poore Ladie, +'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife +Of a detesting Lord + + Wid. I write good creature, wheresoere she is, +Her hart waighes sadly: this yong maid might do her +A shrewd turne if she pleas'd + + Hel. How do you meane? +May be the amorous Count solicites her +In the vnlawfull purpose + + Wid. He does indeede, +And brokes with all that can in such a suite +Corrupt the tender honour of a Maide: +But she is arm'd for him, and keepes her guard +In honestest defence. + +Drumme and Colours. Enter Count Rossillion, Parrolles, and the +whole +Armie. + + Mar. The goddes forbid else + + Wid. So, now they come: +That is Anthonio the Dukes eldest sonne, +That Escalus + + Hel. Which is the Frenchman? + Dia. Hee, +That with the plume, 'tis a most gallant fellow, +I would he lou'd his wife: if he were honester +He were much goodlier. Is't not a handsom Gentleman + Hel. I like him well + + Di. 'Tis pitty he is not honest: yonds that same knaue +That leades him to these places: were I his Ladie, +I would poison that vile Rascall + + Hel. Which is he? + Dia. That Iacke-an-apes with scarfes. Why is hee +melancholly? + Hel. Perchance he's hurt i'th battaile + + Par. Loose our drum? Well + + Mar. He's shrewdly vext at something. Looke he +has spyed vs + + Wid. Marrie hang you + + Mar. And your curtesie, for a ring-carrier. +Enter. + + Wid. The troope is past: Come pilgrim, I wil bring +you, Where you shall host: Of inioyn'd penitents +There's foure or fiue, to great S[aint]. Iaques bound, +Alreadie at my house + + Hel. I humbly thanke you: +Please it this Matron, and this gentle Maide +To eate with vs to night, the charge and thanking +Shall be for me, and to requite you further, +I will bestow some precepts of this Virgin, +Worthy the note + + Both. Wee'l take your offer kindly. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Count Rossillion and the Frenchmen, as at first. + + Cap.E. Nay good my Lord put him too't: let him +haue his way + + Cap.G. If your Lordshippe finde him not a Hilding, +hold me no more in your respect + + Cap.E. On my life my Lord, a bubble + + Ber. Do you thinke I am so farre +Deceiued in him + + Cap.E. Beleeue it my Lord, in mine owne direct +knowledge, without any malice, but to speake of him +as my kinsman, hee's a most notable Coward, an infinite +and endlesse Lyar, an hourely promise-breaker, the +owner of no one good qualitie, worthy your Lordships +entertainment + + Cap.G. It were fit you knew him, least reposing too +farre in his vertue which he hath not, he might at some +great and trustie businesse, in a maine daunger, fayle +you + + Ber. I would I knew in what particular action to try +him + + Cap.G. None better then to let him fetch off his +drumme, which you heare him so confidently vndertake +to do + + C.E. I with a troop of Florentines wil sodainly surprize +him; such I will haue whom I am sure he knowes +not from the enemie: wee will binde and hoodwinke +him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is carried +into the Leager of the aduersaries, when we bring +him to our owne tents: be but your Lordship present +at his examination, if he do not for the promise of his +life, and in the highest compulsion of base feare, offer to +betray you, and deliuer all the intelligence in his power +against you, and that with the diuine forfeite of his +soule vpon oath, neuer trust my iudgement in anie +thing + + Cap.G. O for the loue of laughter, let him fetch his +drumme, he sayes he has a stratagem for't: when your +Lordship sees the bottome of this successe in't, and to +what mettle this counterfeyt lump of ours will be melted +if you giue him not Iohn drummes entertainement, +your inclining cannot be remoued. Heere he comes. +Enter Parrolles. + + Cap.E. O for the loue of laughter hinder not the honor +of his designe, let him fetch off his drumme in any +hand + + Ber. How now Monsieur? This drumme sticks sorely +in your disposition + + Cap.G. A pox on't, let it go, 'tis but a drumme + + Par. But a drumme: Ist but a drumme? A drum so +lost. There was excellent command, to charge in with +our horse vpon our owne wings, and to rend our owne +souldiers + + Cap.G. That was not to be blam'd in the command +of the seruice: it was a disaster of warre that Cæsar him +selfe could not haue preuented, if he had beene there to +command + + Ber. Well, wee cannot greatly condemne our successe: +some dishonor wee had in the losse of that drum, +but it is not to be recouered + + Par. It might haue beene recouered + + Ber. It might, but it is not now + + Par. It is to be recouered, but that the merit of seruice +is sildome attributed to the true and exact performer, +I would haue that drumme or another, or hic iacet + + Ber. Why if you haue a stomacke, too't Monsieur: if +you thinke your mysterie in stratagem, can bring this +instrument of honour againe into his natiue quarter, be +magnanimious in the enterprize and go on, I wil grace +the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you speede well in +it, the Duke shall both speake of it, and extend to you +what further becomes his greatnesse, euen to the vtmost +syllable of your worthinesse + + Par. By the hand of a souldier I will vndertake it + + Ber. But you must not now slumber in it + + Par. Ile about it this euening, and I will presently +pen downe my dilemma's, encourage my selfe in my +certaintie, put my selfe into my mortall preparation: +and by midnight looke to heare further from me + + Ber. May I bee bold to acquaint his grace you are +gone about it + + Par. I know not what the successe wil be my Lord, +but the attempt I vow + + Ber. I know th'art valiant, +And to the possibility of thy souldiership, +Will subscribe for thee: Farewell + + Par. I loue not many words. + +Exit + + Cap.E. No more then a fish loues water. Is not this +a strange fellow my Lord, that so confidently seemes to +vndertake this businesse, which he knowes is not to be +done, damnes himselfe to do, & dares better be damnd +then to doo't + + Cap.G. You do not know him my Lord as we doe, +certaine it is that he will steale himselfe into a mans fauour, +and for a weeke escape a great deale of discoueries, +but when you finde him out, you haue him euer after + + Ber. Why do you thinke he will make no deede at +all of this that so seriouslie hee dooes addresse himselfe +vnto? + Cap.E. None in the world, but returne with an inuention, +and clap vpon you two or three probable lies: +but we haue almost imbost him, you shall see his fall to +night; for indeede he is not for your Lordshippes respect + + Cap.G. Weele make you some sport with the Foxe +ere we case him. He was first smoak'd by the old Lord +Lafew, when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what +a sprat you shall finde him, which you shall see this verie +night + + Cap.E. I must go looke my twigges, +He shall be caught + + Ber. Your brother he shall go along with me + + Cap.G. As't please your Lordship, Ile leaue you + + Ber. Now wil I lead you to the house, and shew you +The Lasse I spoke of + + Cap.E. But you say she's honest + + Ber. That's all the fault: I spoke with hir but once, +And found her wondrous cold, but I sent to her +By this same Coxcombe that we haue i'th winde +Tokens and Letters, which she did resend, +And this is all I haue done: She's a faire creature, +Will you go see her? + Cap.E. With all my heart my Lord. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Hellen, and Widdow. + + Hel. If you misdoubt me that I am not shee, +I know not how I shall assure you further, +But I shall loose the grounds I worke vpon + + Wid. Though my estate be falne, I was well borne, +Nothing acquainted with these businesses, +And would not put my reputation now +In any staining act + + Hel. Nor would I wish you. +First giue me trust, the Count he is my husband, +And what to your sworne counsaile I haue spoken, +Is so from word to word: and then you cannot +By the good ayde that I of you shall borrow, +Erre in bestowing it + + Wid. I should beleeue you, +For you haue shew'd me that which well approues +Y'are great in fortune + + Hel. Take this purse of Gold, +And let me buy your friendly helpe thus farre, +Which I will ouer-pay, and pay againe +When I haue found it. The Count he woes your +daughter, +Layes downe his wanton siedge before her beautie, +Resolue to carrie her: let her in fine consent +As wee'l direct her how 'tis best to beare it: +Now his important blood will naught denie, +That shee'l demand: a ring the Countie weares, +That downward hath succeeded in his house +From sonne to sonne, some foure or fiue discents, +Since the first father wore it. This Ring he holds +In most rich choice: yet in his idle fire, +To buy his will, it would not seeme too deere, +How ere repented after + + Wid. Now I see the bottome of your purpose + + Hel. You see it lawfull then, it is no more, +But that your daughter ere she seemes as wonne, +Desires this Ring; appoints him an encounter; +In fine, deliuers me to fill the time, +Her selfe most chastly absent: after +To marry her, Ile adde three thousand Crownes +To what is past already + + Wid. I haue yeelded: +Instruct my daughter how she shall perseuer, +That time and place with this deceite so lawfull +May proue coherent. Euery night he comes +With Musickes of all sorts, and songs compos'd +To her vnworthinesse: It nothing steeds vs +To chide him from our eeues, for he persists +As if his life lay on't + + Hel. Why then to night +Let vs assay our plot, which if it speed, +Is wicked meaning in a lawfull deede; +And lawfull meaning in a lawfull act, +Where both not sinne, and yet a sinfull fact. +But let's about it. + +Actus Quartus. + +Enter one of the Frenchmen, with fiue or sixe other souldiers in +ambush. + + Lord E. He can come no other way but by this hedge +corner: when you sallie vpon him, speake what terrible +Language you will: though you vnderstand it not your +selues, no matter: for we must not seeme to vnderstand +him, vnlesse some one among vs, whom wee must produce +for an Interpreter + + 1.Sol. Good Captaine, let me be th' Interpreter + + Lor.E. Art not acquainted with him? knowes he not +thy voice? + 1.Sol. No sir I warrant you + + Lo.E. But what linsie wolsy hast thou to speake to vs +againe + + 1.Sol. E'n such as you speake to me + + Lo.E. He must thinke vs some band of strangers, i'th +aduersaries entertainment. Now he hath a smacke of all +neighbouring Languages: therefore we must euery one +be a man of his owne fancie, not to know what we speak +one to another: so we seeme to know, is to know straight +our purpose: Choughs language, gabble enough, and +good enough. As for you interpreter, you must seeme +very politicke. But couch hoa, heere hee comes, to beguile +two houres in a sleepe, and then to returne & swear +the lies he forges. +Enter Parrolles. + + Par. Ten a clocke: Within these three houres 'twill +be time enough to goe home. What shall I say I haue +done? It must bee a very plausiue inuention that carries +it. They beginne to smoake mee, and disgraces haue of +late, knock'd too often at my doore: I finde my tongue +is too foole-hardie, but my heart hath the feare of Mars +before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of +my tongue + + Lo.E. This is the first truth that ere thine own tongue +was guiltie of + + Par. What the diuell should moue mee to vndertake +the recouerie of this drumme, being not ignorant of the +impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I +must giue my selfe some hurts, and say I got them in exploit: +yet slight ones will not carrie it. They will say, +came you off with so little? And great ones I dare not +giue, wherefore what's the instance. Tongue, I must put +you into a Butter-womans mouth, and buy my selfe another +of Baiazeths Mule, if you prattle mee into these +perilles + + Lo.E. Is it possible he should know what hee is, and +be that he is + + Par. I would the cutting of my garments wold serue +the turne, or the breaking of my Spanish sword + + Lo.E. We cannot affoord you so + + Par. Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in +stratagem + + Lo.E. 'Twould not do + + Par. Or to drowne my cloathes, and say I was stript + + Lo.E. Hardly serue + + Par. Though I swore I leapt from the window of the +Citadell + + Lo.E. How deepe? + Par. Thirty fadome + + Lo.E. Three great oathes would scarse make that be +beleeued + + Par. I would I had any drumme of the enemies, I +would sweare I recouer'd it + + Lo.E. You shall heare one anon + + Par. A drumme now of the enemies. + +Alarum within. + + Lo.E. Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo + + All. Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo + + Par. O ransome, ransome, +Do not hide mine eyes + + Inter. Boskos thromuldo boskos + + Par. I know you are the Muskos Regiment, +And I shall loose my life for want of language. +If there be heere German or Dane, Low Dutch, +Italian, or French, let him speake to me, +Ile discouer that, which shal vndo the Florentine + + Int. Boskos vauvado, I vnderstand thee, & can speake +thy tongue: Kerelybonto sir, betake thee to thy faith, for +seuenteene ponyards are at thy bosome + + Par. Oh + + Inter. Oh pray, pray, pray, +Manka reuania dulche + + Lo.E. Oscorbidulchos voliuorco + + Int. The Generall is content to spare thee yet, +And hoodwinkt as thou art, will leade thee on +To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst informe +Something to saue thy life + + Par. O let me liue, +And all the secrets of our campe Ile shew, +Their force, their purposes: Nay, Ile speake that, +Which you will wonder at + + Inter. But wilt thou faithfully? + Par. If I do not, damne me + + Inter. Acordo linta. +Come on, thou are granted space. + + +Exit + + +A short Alarum within. + + L.E. Go tell the Count Rossillion and my brother, +We haue caught the woodcocke, and will keepe him mufled +Till we do heare from them + + Sol. Captaine I will + + L.E. A will betray vs all vnto our selues, +Informe on that + + Sol. So I will sir + + L.E. Till then Ile keepe him darke and safely lockt. + +Exit + +Enter Bertram, and the Maide called Diana. + + Ber. They told me that your name was Fontybell + + Dia. No my good Lord, Diana + + Ber. Titled Goddesse, +And worth it with addition: but faire soule, +In your fine frame hath loue no qualitie? +If the quicke fire of youth light not your minde, +You are no Maiden but a monument +When you are dead you should be such a one +As you are now: for you are cold and sterne, +And now you should be as your mother was +When your sweet selfe was got + + Dia. She then was honest + + Ber. So should you be + + Dia. No: +My mother did but dutie, such (my Lord) +As you owe to your wife + + Ber. No more a'that: +I prethee do not striue against my vowes: +I was compell'd to her, but I loue thee +By loues owne sweet constraint, and will for euer +Do thee all rights of seruice + + Dia. I so you serue vs +Till we serue you: But when you haue our Roses, +You barely leaue our thornes to pricke our selues, +And mocke vs with our barenesse + + Ber. How haue I sworne + + Dia. Tis not the many oathes that makes the truth, +But the plaine single vow, that is vow'd true: +What is not holie, that we sweare not by, +But take the high'st to witnesse: then pray you tell me, +If I should sweare by Ioues great attributes, +I lou'd you deerely, would you beleeue my oathes, +When I did loue you ill? This ha's no holding +To sweare by him whom I protest to loue +That I will worke against him. Therefore your oathes +Are words and poore conditions, but vnseal'd +At lest in my opinion + + Ber. Change it, change it: +Be not so holy cruell: Loue is holie, +And my integritie ne're knew the crafts +That you do charge men with: Stand no more off, +But giue thy selfe vnto my sicke desires, +Who then recouers. Say thou art mine, and euer +My loue as it beginnes, shall so perseuer + + Dia. I see that men make rope's in such a scarre, +That wee'l forsake our selues. Giue me that Ring + + Ber. Ile lend it thee my deere; but haue no power +To giue it from me + + Dia. Will you not my Lord? + Ber. It is an honour longing to our house, +Bequeathed downe from manie Ancestors, +Which were the greatest obloquie i'th world, +In me to loose + + Dian. Mine Honors such a Ring, +My chastities the Iewell of our house, +Bequeathed downe from many Ancestors, +Which were the greatest obloquie i'th world, +In mee to loose. Thus your owne proper wisedome +Brings in the Champion honor on my part, +Against your vaine assault + + Ber. Heere, take my Ring, +My house, mine honor, yea my life be thine, +And Ile be bid by thee + + Dia. When midnight comes, knocke at my chamber +window: +Ile order take, my mother shall not heare. +Now will I charge you in the band of truth, +When you haue conquer'd my yet maiden-bed, +Remaine there but an houre, nor speake to mee: +My reasons are most strong, and you shall know them, +When backe againe this Ring shall be deliuer'd: +And on your finger in the night, Ile put +Another Ring, that what in time proceeds, +May token to the future, our past deeds. +Adieu till then, then faile not: you haue wonne +A wife of me, though there my hope be done + + Ber. A heauen on earth I haue won by wooing thee + + Di. For which, liue long to thank both heauen & me, +You may so in the end. +My mother told me iust how he would woo, +As if she sate in's heart. She sayes, all men +Haue the like oathes: He had sworne to marrie me +When his wife's dead: therfore Ile lye with him +When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braide, +Marry that will, I liue and die a Maid: +Onely in this disguise, I think't no sinne, +To cosen him that would vniustly winne. + +Exit + +Enter the two French Captaines, and some two or three Souldiours. + + Cap.G. You haue not giuen him his mothers letter + + Cap.E. I haue deliu'red it an houre since, there is som +thing in't that stings his nature: for on the reading it, +he chang'd almost into another man + + Cap.G. He has much worthy blame laid vpon him, +for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a Lady + + Cap.E. Especially, hee hath incurred the euerlasting +displeasure of the King, who had euen tun'd his bounty +to sing happinesse to him. I will tell you a thing, but +you shall let it dwell darkly with you + + Cap.G. When you haue spoken it 'tis dead, and I am +the graue of it + + Cap.E. Hee hath peruerted a young Gentlewoman +heere in Florence, of a most chaste renown, & this night +he fleshes his will in the spoyle of her honour: hee hath +giuen her his monumentall Ring, and thinkes himselfe +made in the vnchaste composition + + Cap.G. Now God delay our rebellion as we are our +selues, what things are we + + Cap.E. Meerely our owne traitours. And as in the +common course of all treasons, we still see them reueale +themselues, till they attaine to their abhorr'd ends: so +he that in this action contriues against his owne Nobility +in his proper streame, ore-flowes himselfe + + Cap.G. Is it not meant damnable in vs, to be Trumpeters +of our vnlawfull intents? We shall not then haue +his company to night? + Cap.E. Not till after midnight: for hee is dieted to +his houre + + Cap.G. That approaches apace: I would gladly haue +him see his company anathomiz'd, that hee might take +a measure of his owne iudgements, wherein so curiously +he had set this counterfeit + + Cap.E. We will not meddle with him till he come; +for his presence must be the whip of the other + + Cap.G. In the meane time, what heare you of these +Warres? + Cap.E. I heare there is an ouerture of peace + + Cap.G. Nay, I assure you a peace concluded + + Cap.E. What will Count Rossillion do then? Will he +trauaile higher, or returne againe into France? + Cap.G. I perceiue by this demand, you are not altogether +of his councell + + Cap.E. Let it be forbid sir, so should I bee a great +deale of his act + + Cap.G. Sir, his wife some two months since fledde +from his house, her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Iaques +le grand; which holy vndertaking, with most austere +sanctimonie she accomplisht: and there residing, +the tendernesse of her Nature, became as a prey to her +greefe: in fine, made a groane of her last breath, & now +she sings in heauen + + Cap.E. How is this iustified? + Cap.G. The stronger part of it by her owne Letters, +which makes her storie true, euen to the poynt of her +death: her death it selfe, which could not be her office +to say, is come: was faithfully confirm'd by the Rector +of the place + + Cap.E. Hath the Count all this intelligence? + Cap.G. I, and the particular confirmations, point +from point, to the full arming of the veritie + + Cap.E. I am heartily sorrie that hee'l bee gladde of +this + + Cap.G. How mightily sometimes, we make vs comforts +of our losses + + Cap.E. And how mightily some other times, wee +drowne our gaine in teares, the great dignitie that his +valour hath here acquir'd for him, shall at home be encountred +with a shame as ample + + Cap.G. The webbe of our life, is of a mingled yarne, +good and ill together: our vertues would bee proud, if +our faults whipt them not, and our crimes would dispaire +if they were not cherish'd by our vertues. +Enter a Messenger. + +How now? Where's your master? + Ser. He met the Duke in the street sir, of whom hee +hath taken a solemne leaue: his Lordshippe will next +morning for France. The Duke hath offered him Letters +of commendations to the King + + Cap.E. They shall bee no more then needfull there, +if they were more then they can commend. +Enter Count Rossillion. + + Ber. They cannot be too sweete for the Kings tartnesse, +heere's his Lordship now. How now my Lord, +i'st not after midnight? + Ber. I haue to night dispatch'd sixteene businesses, a +moneths length a peece, by an abstract of successe: I +haue congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his +neerest; buried a wife, mourn'd for her, writ to my Ladie +mother, I am returning, entertain'd my Conuoy, & +betweene these maine parcels of dispatch, affected many +nicer needs: the last was the greatest, but that I haue +not ended yet + + Cap.E. If the businesse bee of any difficulty, and this +morning your departure hence, it requires hast of your +Lordship + + Ber. I meane the businesse is not ended, as fearing +to heare of it hereafter: but shall we haue this dialogue +betweene the Foole and the Soldiour. Come, bring +forth this counterfet module, ha's deceiu'd mee, like a +double-meaning Prophesier + + Cap.E. Bring him forth, ha's sate i'th stockes all night +poore gallant knaue + + Ber. No matter, his heeles haue deseru'd it, in vsurping +his spurres so long. How does he carry himselfe? + Cap.E. I haue told your Lordship alreadie: The +stockes carrie him. But to answer you as you would be +vnderstood, hee weepes like a wench that had shed her +milke, he hath confest himselfe to Morgan, whom hee +supposes to be a Friar, fro[m] the time of his remembrance +to this very instant disaster of his setting i'th stockes: +and what thinke you he hath confest? + Ber. Nothing of me, ha's a? + Cap.E. His confession is taken, and it shall bee read +to his face, if your Lordshippe be in't, as I beleeue you +are, you must haue the patience to heare it. +Enter Parolles with his Interpreter. + + Ber. A plague vpon him, muffeld; he can say nothing +of me: hush, hush + + Cap.G. Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa + + Inter. He calles for the tortures, what will you say +without em + + Par. I will confesse what I know without constraint, +If ye pinch me like a Pasty, I can say no more + + Int. Bosko Chimurcho + + Cap. Boblibindo chicurmurco + + Int. You are a mercifull Generall: Our Generall +bids you answer to what I shall aske you out of a Note + + Par. And truly, as I hope to liue + + Int. First demand of him, how many horse the Duke +is strong. What say you to that? + Par. Fiue or sixe thousand, but very weake and vnseruiceable: +the troopes are all scattered, and the Commanders +verie poore rogues, vpon my reputation and +credit, and as I hope to liue + + Int. Shall I set downe your answer so? + Par. Do, Ile take the Sacrament on't, how & which +way you will: all's one to him + + Ber. What a past-sauing slaue is this? + Cap.G. Y'are deceiu'd my Lord, this is Mounsieur +Parrolles the gallant militarist, that was his owne phrase +that had the whole theoricke of warre in the knot of his +scarfe, and the practise in the chape of his dagger + + Cap.E. I will neuer trust a man againe, for keeping +his sword cleane, nor beleeue he can haue euerie thing +in him, by wearing his apparrell neatly + + Int. Well, that's set downe + + Par. Fiue or six thousand horse I sed, I will say true, +or thereabouts set downe, for Ile speake truth + + Cap.G. He's very neere the truth in this + + Ber. But I con him no thankes for't in the nature he +deliuers it + + Par. Poore rogues, I pray you say + + Int. Well, that's set downe + + Par. I humbly thanke you sir, a truth's a truth, the +Rogues are maruailous poore + + Interp. Demaund of him of what strength they are a +foot. What say you to that? + Par. By my troth sir, if I were to liue this present +houre, I will tell true. Let me see, Spurio a hundred & +fiftie, Sebastian so many, Corambus so many, Iaques so +many: Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowicke, and Gratij, two hundred +fiftie each: Mine owne Company, Chitopher, Vaumond, +Bentij, two hundred fiftie each: so that the muster +file, rotten and sound, vppon my life amounts not to fifteene +thousand pole, halfe of the which, dare not shake +the snow from off their Cassockes, least they shake themselues +to peeces + + Ber. What shall be done to him? + Cap.G. Nothing, but let him haue thankes. Demand +of him my condition: and what credite I haue with the +Duke + + Int. Well that's set downe: you shall demaund of +him, whether one Captaine Dumaine bee i'th Campe, a +Frenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, what +his valour, honestie, and expertnesse in warres: or whether +he thinkes it were not possible with well-waighing +summes of gold to corrupt him to a reuolt. What say you +to this? What do you know of it? + Par. I beseech you let me answer to the particular of +the intergatories. Demand them singly + + Int. Do you know this Captaine Dumaine? + Par. I know him, a was a Botchers Prentize in Paris, +from whence he was whipt for getting the Shrieues fool +with childe, a dumbe innocent that could not say him +nay + + Ber. Nay, by your leaue hold your hands, though I +know his braines are forfeite to the next tile that fals + + Int. Well, is this Captaine in the Duke of Florences +campe? + Par. Vpon my knowledge he is, and lowsie + + Cap.G. Nay looke not so vpon me: we shall heare of +your Lord anon + + Int. What is his reputation with the Duke? + Par. The Duke knowes him for no other, but a poore +Officer of mine, and writ to mee this other day, to turne +him out a'th band. I thinke I haue his Letter in my pocket + + Int. Marry we'll search + + Par. In good sadnesse I do not know, either it is there, +or it is vpon a file with the Dukes other Letters, in my +Tent + + Int. Heere 'tis, heere's a paper, shall I reade it to you? + Par. I do not know if it be it or no + + Ber. Our Interpreter do's it well + + Cap.G. Excellently + + Int. Dian, the Counts a foole, and full of gold + + Par. That is not the Dukes letter sir: that is an aduertisement +to a proper maide in Florence, one Diana, to +take heede of the allurement of one Count Rossillion, a +foolish idle boy: but for all that very ruttish. I pray you +sir put it vp againe + + Int. Nay, Ile reade it first by your fauour + + Par. My meaning in't I protest was very honest in the +behalfe of the maid: for I knew the young Count to be a +dangerous and lasciuious boy, who is a whale to Virginity, +and deuours vp all the fry it finds + + Ber. Damnable both-sides rogue + + Int. + +Let. + +When he sweares oathes, bid him drop gold, and +take it: +After he scores, he neuer payes the score: +Halfe won is match well made, match and well make it, +He nere payes after-debts, take it before, +And say a souldier (Dian) told thee this: +Men are to mell with, boyes are not to kis. +For count of this, the Counts a Foole I know it, +Who payes before, but not when he does owe it. +Thine as he vow'd to thee in thine eare, +Parolles + + Ber. He shall be whipt through the Armie with this +rime in's forehead + + Cap.E. This is your deuoted friend sir, the manifold +Linguist, and the army-potent souldier + + Ber. I could endure any thing before but a Cat, and +now he's a Cat to me + + Int. I perceiue sir by your Generals lookes, wee shall +be faine to hang you + + Par. My life sir in any case: Not that I am afraide to +dye, but that my offences beeing many, I would repent +out the remainder of Nature. Let me liue sir in a dungeon, +i'th stockes, or any where, so I may liue + + Int. Wee'le see what may bee done, so you confesse +freely: therefore once more to this Captaine Dumaine: +you haue answer'd to his reputation with the Duke, and +to his valour. What is his honestie? + Par. He will steale sir an Egge out of a Cloister: for +rapes and rauishments he paralels Nessus. Hee professes +not keeping of oaths, in breaking em he is stronger then +Hercules. He will lye sir, with such volubilitie, that you +would thinke truth were a foole: drunkennesse is his best +vertue, for he will be swine-drunke, and in his sleepe he +does little harme, saue to his bed-cloathes about him: +but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I +haue but little more to say sir of his honesty, he ha's euerie +thing that an honest man should not haue; what an +honest man should haue, he has nothing + + Cap.G. I begin to loue him for this + + Ber. For this description of thine honestie? A pox +vpon him for me, he's more and more a Cat + + Int. What say you to his expertnesse in warre? + Par. Faith sir, ha's led the drumme before the English +Tragedians: to belye him I will not, and more of his +souldiership 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 doe the +man what honour I can, but of this I am not certaine + + Cap.G. He hath out-villain'd villanie so farre, that the +raritie redeemes him + + Ber. A pox on him, he's a Cat still + + Int. His qualities being at this poore price, I neede +not to aske you, if Gold will corrupt him to reuolt + + Par. Sir, for a Cardceue he will sell the fee-simple of +his saluation, the inheritance of it, and cut th' intaile from +all remainders, and a perpetuall succession for it perpetually + + Int. What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain? + Cap.E. Why do's he aske him of me? + Int. What's he? + Par. E'ne a Crow a'th same nest: not altogether so +great as the first in goodnesse, but greater a great deale in +euill. He excels his Brother for a coward, yet his Brother +is reputed one of the best that is. In a retreate hee outrunnes +any Lackey; marrie in comming on, hee ha's the +Crampe + + Int. If your life be saued, will you vndertake to betray +the Florentine + + Par. I, and the Captaine of his horse, Count Rossillion + + Int. Ile whisper with the Generall, and knowe his +pleasure + + Par. Ile no more drumming, a plague of all drummes, +onely to seeme to deserue well, and to beguile the supposition +of that lasciuious yong boy the Count, haue I run +into this danger: yet who would haue suspected an ambush +where I was taken? + Int. There is no remedy sir, but you must dye: the +Generall sayes, you that haue so traitorously discouerd +the secrets of your army, and made such pestifferous reports +of men very nobly held, can serue the world for +no honest vse: therefore you must dye. Come headesman, +off with his head + + Par. O Lord sir let me liue, or let me see my death + + Int. That shall you, and take your leaue of all your +friends: +So, looke about you, know you any heere? + Count. Good morrow noble Captaine + + Lo.E. God blesse you Captaine Parolles + + Cap.G. God saue you noble Captaine + + Lo.E. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord +Lafew? I am for France + + Cap.G. Good Captaine will you giue me a Copy of +the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalfe of the Count +Rossillion, and I were not a verie Coward, I'de compell +it of you, but far you well. + +Exeunt. + + Int. You are vndone Captaine all but your scarfe, +that has a knot on't yet + + Par. Who cannot be crush'd with a plot? + Inter. If you could finde out a Countrie where but +women were that had receiued so much shame, you +might begin an impudent Nation. Fare yee well sir, I +am for France too, we shall speake of you there. + +Exit + + Par. Yet am I thankfull: if my heart were great +'Twould burst at this: Captaine Ile be no more, +But I will eate, and drinke, and sleepe as soft +As Captaine shall. Simply the thing I am +Shall make me liue: who knowes himselfe a braggart +Let him feare this; for it will come to passe, +That euery braggart shall be found an Asse. +Rust sword, coole blushes, and Parrolles liue +Safest in shame: being fool'd, by fool'rie thriue; +There's place and meanes for euery man aliue. +Ile after them. +Enter. + +Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana. + + Hel. That you may well perceiue I haue not +wrong'd you, +One of the greatest in the Christian world +Shall be my suretie: for whose throne 'tis needfull +Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneele. +Time was, I did him a desired office +Deere almost as his life, which gratitude +Through flintie Tartars bosome would peepe forth, +And answer thankes. I duly am inform'd, +His grace is at Marcellae, to which place +We haue conuenient conuoy: you must know +I am supposed dead, the Army breaking, +My husband hies him home, where heauen ayding, +And by the leaue of my good Lord the King, +Wee'l be before our welcome + + Wid. Gentle Madam, +You neuer had a seruant to whose trust +Your busines was more welcome + + Hel. Nor your Mistris +Euer a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour +To recompence your loue: Doubt not but heauen +Hath brought me vp to be your daughters dower, +As it hath fated her to be my motiue +And helper to a husband. But O strange men, +That can such sweet vse make of what they hate, +When sawcie trusting of the cosin'd thoughts +Defiles the pitchy night, so lust doth play +With what it loathes, for that which is away, +But more of this heereafter: you Diana, +Vnder my poore instructions yet must suffer +Something in my behalfe + + Dia. Let death and honestie +Go with your impositions, I am yours +Vpon your will to suffer + + Hel. Yet I pray you: +But with the word the time will bring on summer, +When Briars shall haue leaues as well as thornes, +And be as sweet as sharpe: we must away, +Our Wagon is prepar'd, and time reuiues vs, +All's well that ends well, still the fines the Crowne; +What ere the course, the end is the renowne. + +Exeunt. + +Enter Clowne, old Lady, and Lafew. + + Laf. No, no, no, your sonne was misled with a snipt +taffata fellow there, whose villanous saffron wold haue +made all the vnbak'd and dowy youth of a nation in his +colour: your daughter-in-law had beene aliue at this +houre, and your sonne heere at home, more aduanc'd +by the King, then by that red-tail'd humble Bee I speak +of + + La. I would I had not knowne him, it was the death +of the most vertuous gentlewoman, that euer Nature +had praise for creating. If she had pertaken of my flesh +and cost mee the deerest groanes of a mother, I could +not haue owed her a more rooted loue + + Laf. Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. Wee +may picke a thousand sallets ere wee light on such another +hearbe + + Clo. Indeed sir she was the sweete Margerom of the +sallet, or rather the hearbe of grace + + Laf. They are not hearbes you knaue, they are nose-hearbes + + Clowne. I am no great Nabuchadnezar sir, I haue not +much skill in grace + + Laf. Whether doest thou professe thy selfe, a knaue +or a foole? + Clo. A foole sir at a womans seruice, and a knaue at a +mans + + Laf. Your distinction + + Clo. I would cousen the man of his wife, and do his +seruice + + Laf. So you were a knaue at his seruice indeed + + Clo. And I would giue his wife my bauble sir to doe +her seruice + + Laf. I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knaue +and foole + + Clo. At your seruice + + Laf. No, no, no + + Clo. Why sir, if I cannot serue you, I can serue as +great a prince as you are + + Laf. Whose that, a Frenchman? + Clo. Faith sir a has an English maine, but his fisnomie +is more hotter in France then there + + Laf. What prince is that? + Clo. The blacke prince sir, alias the prince of darkenesse, +alias the diuell + + Laf. Hold thee there's my purse, I giue thee not this +to suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st off, serue +him still + + Clo. I am a woodland fellow sir, that alwaies loued +a great fire, and the master I speak of euer keeps a good +fire, but sure he is the Prince of the world, let his Nobilitie +remaine in's Court. I am for the house with the +narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pompe to +enter: some that humble themselues may, but the manie +will be too chill and tender, and theyle bee for the +flowrie way that leads to the broad gate, and the great +fire + + Laf. Go thy waies, I begin to bee a wearie of thee, +and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out +with thee. Go thy wayes, let my horses be wel look'd +too, without any trickes + + Clo. If I put any trickes vpon em sir, they shall bee +Iades trickes, which are their owne right by the law of +Nature. + +Exit + + Laf. A shrewd knaue and an vnhappie + + Lady. So a is. My Lord that's gone made himselfe +much sport out of him, by his authoritie hee remaines +heere, which he thinkes is a pattent for his sawcinesse, +and indeede he has no pace, but runnes where he will + + Laf. I like him well, 'tis not amisse: and I was about +to tell you, since I heard of the good Ladies death, and +that my Lord your sonne was vpon his returne home. I +moued the King my master to speake in the behalfe of +my daughter, which in the minoritie of them both, his +Maiestie out of a selfe gracious remembrance did first +propose, his Highnesse hath promis'd me to doe it, and +to stoppe vp the displeasure he hath conceiued against +your sonne, there is no fitter matter. How do's your +Ladyship like it? + La. With verie much content my Lord, and I wish +it happily effected + + Laf. His Highnesse comes post from Marcellus, of as +able bodie as when he number'd thirty, a will be heere +to morrow, or I am deceiu'd by him that in such intelligence +hath seldome fail'd + + La. It reioyces me, that I hope I shall see him ere I +die. I haue letters that my sonne will be heere to night: +I shall beseech your Lordship to remaine with mee, till +they meete together + + Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I +might safely be admitted + + Lad. You neede but pleade your honourable priuiledge + + Laf. Ladie, of that I haue made a bold charter, but +I thanke my God, it holds yet. +Enter Clowne. + + Clo. O Madam, yonders my Lord your sonne with +a patch of veluet on's face, whether there bee a scar vnder't +or no, the Veluet knowes, but 'tis a goodly patch +of Veluet, his left cheeke is a cheeke of two pile and a +halfe, but his right cheeke is worne bare + + Laf. A scarre nobly got, +Or a noble scarre, is a good liu'rie of honor, +So belike is that + + Clo. But it is your carbinado'd face + + Laf. Let vs go see +your sonne I pray you, I long to talke +With the yong noble souldier + + Clowne. 'Faith there's a dozen of em, with delicate +fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the +head, and nod at euerie man. + +Exeunt. + +Actus Quintus. + +Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana, with two Attendants. + + Hel. But this exceeding posting day and night, +Must wear your spirits low, we cannot helpe it: +But since you haue made the daies and nights as one, +To weare your gentle limbes in my affayres, +Be bold you do so grow in my requitall, +As nothing can vnroote you. In happie time, +Enter a gentle Astringer. + +This man may helpe me to his Maiesties eare, +If he would spend his power. God saue you sir + + Gent. And you + + Hel. Sir, I haue seene you in the Court of France + + Gent. I haue beene sometimes there + + Hel. I do presume sir, that you are not falne +From the report that goes vpon your goodnesse, +And therefore goaded with most sharpe occasions, +Which lay nice manners by, I put you to +The vse of your owne vertues, for the which +I shall continue thankefull + + Gent. What's your will? + Hel. That it will please you +To giue this poore petition to the King, +And ayde me with that store of power you haue +To come into his presence + + Gen. The Kings not heere + + Hel. Not heere sir? + Gen. Not indeed, +He hence remou'd last night, and with more hast +Then is his vse + + Wid. Lord how we loose our paines + + Hel. All's well that ends well yet, +Though time seeme so aduerse, and meanes vnfit: +I do beseech you, whither is he gone? + Gent. Marrie as I take it to Rossillion, +Whither I am going + + Hel. 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 thanke your paines for it, +I will come after you with what good speede +Our meanes will make vs meanes + + Gent. This Ile do for you + + Hel. And you shall finde your selfe to be well thankt +what e're falles more. We must to horse againe, Go, go, +prouide. +Enter Clowne and Parrolles. + + Par. Good Mr Lauatch giue my Lord Lafew this letter, +I haue ere now sir beene better knowne to you, when +I haue held familiaritie with fresher cloathes: but I am +now sir muddied in fortunes mood, and smell somewhat +strong of her strong displeasure + + Clo. Truely, Fortunes displeasure is but sluttish if it +smell so strongly as thou speak'st of: I will hencefoorth +eate no Fish of Fortunes butt'ring. Prethee alow the +winde + + Par. Nay you neede not to stop your nose sir: I spake +but by a Metaphor + + Clo. Indeed sir, if your Metaphor stinke, I will stop +my nose, or against any mans Metaphor. Prethe get thee +further + + Par. Pray you sir deliuer me this paper + + Clo. Foh, prethee stand away: a paper from fortunes +close-stoole, to giue to a Nobleman. Looke heere he +comes himselfe. +Enter Lafew. + + Clo. Heere is a purre of Fortunes sir, or of Fortunes +Cat, but not a Muscat, that ha's falne into the vncleane +fish-pond of her displeasure, and as he sayes is muddied +withall. Pray you sir, vse the Carpe as you may, for he +lookes like a poore decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally +knaue. I doe pittie his distresse in my smiles of comfort, +and leaue him to your Lordship + + Par. My Lord I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly +scratch'd + + Laf. And what would you haue me to doe? 'Tis too +late to paire her nailes now. Wherein haue you played +the knaue with fortune that she should scratch you, who +of her selfe is a good Lady, and would not haue knaues +thriue long vnder? There's a Cardecue for you: Let the +Iustices make you and fortune friends; I am for other +businesse + + Par. I beseech your honour to heare mee one single +word, + Laf. you begge a single peny more: Come you shall +ha't, saue your word + + Par. My name my good Lord is Parrolles + + Laf. You begge more then word then. Cox my passion, +giue me your hand: How does your drumme? + Par. O my good Lord, you were the first that found +mee + + Laf. Was I insooth? 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 vpon thee knaue, doest thou put vpon mee +at once both the office of God and the diuel: one brings +thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. The Kings +comming I know by his Trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further +after me, I had talke of you last night, though you +are a foole and a knaue, you shall eate, go too, follow + + Par. I praise God for you. + +Flourish. Enter King, old Lady, Lafew, the two French Lords, with +attendants. + + Kin. We lost a Iewell of her, and our esteeme +Was made much poorer by it: but your sonne, +As mad in folly, lack'd the sence to know +Her estimation home + + Old La. 'Tis past my Liege, +And I beseech your Maiestie to make it +Naturall rebellion, done i'th blade of youth, +When oyle and fire, too strong for reasons force, +Ore-beares it, and burnes on + + Kin. My honour'd Lady, +I haue forgiuen and forgotten all, +Though my reuenges were high bent vpon him, +And watch'd the time to shoote + + Laf. This I must say, +But first I begge my pardon: the yong Lord +Did to his Maiesty, his Mother, and his Ladie, +Offence of mighty note; but to himselfe +The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife, +Whose beauty did astonish the suruey +Of richest eies: whose words all eares tooke captiue, +Whose deere perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serue, +Humbly call'd Mistris + + Kin. Praising what is lost, +Makes the remembrance deere. Well, call him hither, +We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill +All repetition: Let him not aske our pardon, +The nature of his great offence is dead, +And deeper then obliuion, we do burie +Th' incensing reliques of it. Let him approach +A stranger, no offender; and informe him +So 'tis our will he should + + Gent. I shall my Liege + + Kin. What sayes he to your daughter, +Haue you spoke? + Laf. All that he is, hath reference to your Highnes + + Kin. Then shall we haue a match. I haue letters sent +me, that sets him high in fame. +Enter Count Bertram. + + Laf. He lookes well on't + + Kin. I am not a day of season, +For thou maist see a sun-shine, and a haile +In me at once: But to the brightest beames +Distracted clouds giue way, so stand thou forth, +The time is faire againe + + Ber. My high repented blames +Deere Soueraigne pardon to me + + Kin. 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 +Th' inaudible, and noiselesse foot of time +Steales, ere we can effect them. You remember +The daughter of this Lord? + Ber. Admiringly my Liege, at first +I stucke my choice vpon her, ere my heart +Durst make too bold a herauld of my tongue: +Where the impression of mine eye enfixing, +Contempt his scornfull Perspectiue did lend me, +Which warpt the line, of euerie other fauour, +Scorn'd a faire colour, or exprest it stolne, +Extended or contracted all proportions +To a most hideous obiect. Thence it came, +That she whom all men prais'd, and whom my selfe, +Since I haue lost, haue lou'd; was in mine eye +The dust that did offend it + + Kin. Well excus'd: +That thou didst loue her, strikes some scores away +From the great compt: but loue that comes too late, +Like a remorsefull pardon slowly carried +To the great sender, turnes a sowre offence, +Crying, that's good that's gone: Our rash faults, +Make triuiall price of serious things we haue, +Not knowing them, vntill we know their graue. +Oft our displeasures to our selues vniust, +Destroy our friends, and after weepe their dust: +Our owne loue waking, cries to see what's done, +While shamefull hate sleepes out the afternoone. +Be this sweet Helens knell, and now forget her. +Send forth your amorous token for faire Maudlin, +The maine consents are had, and heere wee'l stay +To see our widdowers second marriage day: +Which better then the first, O deere heauen blesse, +Or, ere they meete in me, O Nature cesse + + Laf. Come on my sonne, in whom my houses name +Must be digested: giue a fauour from you +To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, +That she may quickly come. By my old beard, +And eu'rie haire that's on't, Helen that's dead +Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, +The last that ere I tooke her leaue at Court, +I saw vpon her finger + + Ber. Hers it was not + + King. Now pray you let me see it. For mine eye, +While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd too't: +This Ring was mine, and when I gaue it Hellen, +I bad her if her fortunes euer stoode +Necessitied to helpe, that by this token +I would releeue her. Had you that craft to reaue her +Of what should stead her most? + Ber. My gracious Soueraigne, +How ere it pleases you to take it so, +The ring was neuer hers + + Old La. Sonne, on my life +I haue seene her weare it, and she reckon'd it +At her liues rate + + Laf. I am sure I saw her weare it + + Ber. You are deceiu'd my Lord, she neuer saw it: +In Florence was it from a casement throwne mee, +Wrap'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 owne fortune, and inform'd her fully, +I could not answer in that course of Honour +As she had made the ouerture, she ceast +In heauie satisfaction, and would neuer +Receiue the Ring againe + + Kin. Platus himselfe, +That knowes the tinct and multiplying med'cine, +Hath not in natures mysterie more science, +Then I haue in this Ring. 'Twas mine, 'twas Helens, +Who euer gaue it you: then if you know +That you are well acquainted with your selfe, +Confesse 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement +You got it from her. She call'd the Saints to suretie, +That she would neuer put it from her finger, +Vnlesse she gaue it to your selfe in bed, +Where you haue neuer come: or sent it vs +Vpon her great disaster + + Ber. She neuer saw it + + Kin. Thou speak'st it falsely: as I loue mine Honor, +And mak'st connecturall feares to come into me, +Which I would faine shut out, if it should proue +That thou art so inhumane, 'twill not proue so: +And yet I know not, thou didst hate her deadly, +And she is dead, which nothing but to close +Her eyes my selfe, could win me to beleeue, +More then to see this Ring. Take him away, +My fore-past proofes, how ere the matter fall +Shall taze my feares of little vanitie, +Hauing vainly fear'd too little. Away with him, +Wee'l sift this matter further + + Ber. If you shall proue +This Ring was euer hers, you shall as easie +Proue that I husbanded her bed in Florence, +Where yet she neuer was. +Enter a Gentleman. + + King. I am wrap'd in dismall thinkings + + Gen. Gracious Soueraigne. +Whether I haue beene too blame or no, I know not, +Here's a petition from a Florentine, +Who hath for foure or fiue remoues come short, +To tender it her selfe. I vndertooke it, +Vanquish'd thereto by the faire grace and speech +Of the poore suppliant, who by this I know +Is heere attending: her businesse lookes in her +With an importing visage, and she told me +In a sweet verball breefe, it did concerne +Your Highnesse with her selfe. + +A Letter. + +Vpon his many protestations to marrie mee when his wife was +dead, I blush to say it, he wonne me. Now is the Count Rossillion +a Widdower, his vowes are forfeited to mee, and my +honors payed to him. Hee stole from Florence, taking no +leaue, and I follow him to his Countrey for Iustice: Grant +it me, O King, in you it best lies, otherwise a seducer flourishes, +and a poore Maid is vndone. +Diana Capilet + + Laf. I will buy me a sonne in Law in a faire, and toule +for this. Ile none of him + + Kin. The heauens haue thought well on thee Lafew, +To bring forth this discou'rie, seeke these sutors: +Go speedily, and bring againe the Count. +Enter Bertram. + +I am a-feard the life of Hellen (Ladie) +Was fowly snatcht + + Old La. Now iustice on the doers + + King. I wonder sir, sir, wiues are monsters to you, +And that you flye them as you sweare them Lordship, +Yet you desire to marry. What woman's that? +Enter Widdow, Diana, and Parrolles. + + Dia. I am my Lord a wretched Florentine, +Deriued from the ancient Capilet, +My suite as I do vnderstand you know, +And therefore know how farre I may be pittied + + Wid. I am her Mother sir, whose age and honour +Both suffer vnder this complaint we bring, +And both shall cease, without your remedie + + King. Come hether Count, do you know these Women? + Ber. My Lord, I neither can nor will denie, +But that I know them, do they charge me further? + Dia. Why do you looke so strange vpon your wife? + Ber. She's none of mine my Lord + + Dia. If you shall marrie +You giue away this hand, and that is mine, +You giue away heauens vowes, and those are mine: +You giue away my selfe, which is knowne mine: +For I by vow am so embodied yours, +That she which marries you, must marrie me, +Either both or none + + Laf. Your reputation comes too short for my daughter, +you are no husband for her + + Ber. My Lord, this is a fond and desp'rate creature, +Whom sometime I haue laugh'd with: Let your highnes +Lay a more noble thought vpon mine honour, +Then for to thinke that I would sinke it heere + + Kin. Sir for my thoughts, you haue them il to friend, +Till your deeds gaine them fairer: proue your honor, +Then in my thought it lies + + Dian. Good my Lord, +Aske him vpon his oath, if hee do's thinke +He had not my virginity + + Kin. What saist thou to her? + Ber. She's impudent my Lord, +And was a common gamester to the Campe + + Dia. He do's me wrong my Lord: If I were so, +He might haue bought me at a common price. +Do not beleeue him. O behold this Ring, +Whose high respect and rich validitie +Did lacke a Paralell: yet for all that +He gaue it to a Commoner a'th Campe +If I be one + + Coun. He blushes, and 'tis hit: +Of sixe preceding Ancestors that Iemme +Confer'd by testament to'th sequent issue +Hath it beene owed and worne. This is his wife, +That Ring's a thousand proofes + + King. Me thought you saide +You saw one heere in Court could witnesse it + + Dia. I did my Lord, but loath am to produce +So bad an instrument, his names Parrolles + + Laf. I saw the man to day, if man he bee + + Kin. Finde him, and bring him hether + + Ros. What of him: +He's quoted for a most perfidious slaue +With all the spots a'th world, taxt and debosh'd, +Whose nature sickens: but to speake a truth, +Am I, or that or this for what he'l vtter, +That will speake any thing + + Kin. She hath that Ring of yours + + Ros. I thinke she has; certaine it is I lyk'd her, +And boorded her i'th wanton way of youth: +She knew her distance, and did angle for mee, +Madding my eagernesse with her restraint, +As all impediments in fancies course +Are motiues of more fancie, and in fine, +Her insuite comming with her moderne grace, +Subdu'd me to her rate, she got the Ring, +And I had that which any inferiour might +At Market price haue bought + + Dia. I must be patient: +You that haue turn'd off a first so noble wife, +May iustly dyet me. I pray you yet, +(Since you lacke vertue, I will loose a husband) +Send for your Ring, I will returne it home, +And giue me mine againe + + Ros. I haue it not + + Kin. What Ring was yours I pray you? + Dian. Sir much like the same vpon your finger + + Kin. Know you this Ring, this Ring was his of late + + Dia. And this was it I gaue him being a bed + + Kin. The story then goes false, you threw it him +Out of a Casement + + Dia. I haue spoke the truth. +Enter Parolles. + + Ros. My Lord, I do confesse the ring was hers + + Kin. You boggle shrewdly, euery feather starts you: +Is this the man you speake of? + Dia. I, my Lord + + Kin. Tell me sirrah, but tell me true I charge you, +Not fearing the displeasure of your master: +Which on your iust proceeding, Ile keepe off, +By him and by this woman heere, what know you? + Par. So please your Maiesty, my master hath bin an +honourable Gentleman. Trickes hee hath had in him, +which Gentlemen haue + + Kin. Come, come, to'th' purpose: Did hee loue this +woman? + Par. Faith sir he did loue her, but how + + Kin. How I pray you? + Par. He did loue her sir, as a Gent. loues a Woman + + Kin. How is that? + Par. He lou'd her sir, and lou'd her not + + Kin. As thou art a knaue and no knaue, what an equiuocall +Companion is this? + Par. I am a poore man, and at your Maiesties command + + Laf. Hee's a good drumme my Lord, but a naughtie +Orator + + Dian. Do you know he promist me marriage? + Par. Faith I know more then Ile speake + + Kin. But wilt thou not speake all thou know'st? + Par. Yes so please your Maiesty: I did goe betweene +them as I said, but more then that he loued her, for indeede +he was madde for her, and talkt of Sathan, and of +Limbo, and of Furies, and I know not what: yet I was in +that credit with them at that time, that I knewe of their +going to bed, and of other motions, as promising her +marriage, and things which would deriue mee ill will to +speake of, therefore I will not speake what I know + + Kin. Thou hast spoken all alreadie, vnlesse thou canst +say they are maried, but thou art too fine in thy euidence, +therefore stand aside. This Ring you say was yours + + Dia. I my good Lord + + Kin. Where did you buy it? Or who gaue it you? + Dia. It was not giuen me, nor I did not buy it + + Kin. Who lent it you? + Dia. It was not lent me neither + + Kin. Where did you finde it then? + Dia. I found it not + + Kin. If it were yours by none of all these wayes, +How could you giue it him? + Dia. I neuer gaue it him + + Laf. This womans an easie gloue my Lord, she goes +off and on at pleasure + + Kin. This Ring was mine, I gaue it his first wife + + Dia. It might be yours or hers for ought I know + + Kin. Take her away, I do not like her now, +To prison with her: and away with him, +Vnlesse thou telst me where thou hadst this Ring, +Thou diest within this houre + + Dia. Ile neuer tell you + + Kin. Take her away + + Dia. Ile put in baile my liedge + + Kin. I thinke thee now some common Customer + + Dia. By Ioue if euer I knew man 'twas you + + King. Wherefore hast thou accusde him al this while + + Dia. Because he's guiltie, and he is not guilty: +He knowes I am no Maid, and hee'l sweare too't: +Ile sweare I am a Maid, and he knowes not. +Great King I am no strumpet, by my life, +I am either Maid, or else this old mans wife + + Kin. She does abuse our eares, to prison with her + + Dia. Good mother fetch my bayle. Stay Royall sir, +The Ieweller that owes the Ring is sent for, +And he shall surety me. But for this Lord, +Who hath abus'd me as he knowes himselfe, +Though yet he neuer harm'd me, heere I quit him. +He knowes himselfe my bed he hath defil'd, +And at that time he got his wife with childe: +Dead though she be, she feeles her yong one kicke: +So there's my riddle, one that's dead is quicke, +And now behold the meaning. +Enter Hellen and Widdow. + + Kin. Is there no exorcist +Beguiles the truer Office of mine eyes? +Is't reall that I see? + Hel. No my good Lord, +'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, +The name, and not the thing + + Ros. Both, both, O pardon + + Hel. Oh my good Lord, when I was like this Maid, +I found you wondrous kinde, there is your Ring, +And looke you, heeres your letter: this it sayes, +When from my finger you can get this Ring, +And is by me with childe, &c. This is done, +Will you be mine now you are doubly wonne? + Ros. If she my Liege can make me know this clearly, +Ile loue her dearely, euer, euer dearly + + Hel. If it appeare not plaine, and proue vntrue, +Deadly diuorce step betweene me and you. +O my deere mother do I see you liuing? + Laf. Mine eyes smell Onions, I shall weepe anon: +Good Tom Drumme lend me a handkercher. +So I thanke thee, waite on me home, Ile make sport with +thee: Let thy curtsies alone, they are scuruy ones + + King. Let vs from point to point this storie know, +To make the euen truth in pleasure flow: +If thou beest yet a fresh vncropped flower, +Choose thou thy husband, and Ile pay thy dower. +For I can guesse, that by thy honest ayde, +Thou keptst a wife her selfe, thy selfe a Maide. +Of that and all the progresse more and lesse, +Resoluedly more leasure shall expresse: +All yet seemes well, and if it end so meete, +The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. + +Flourish. + +The Kings a Begger, now the Play is done, +All is well ended, if this suite be wonne, +That you expresse Content: which we will pay, +With strife to please you, day exceeding day: +Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts, +Your gentle hands lend vs, and take our hearts. + +Exeunt. omn. + +FINIS. + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 2246 *** |