Do thee all rights of service. Ay, so you serve us, How have I sworn! Change it, change it; That you do charge men with: Stand no more off, Dia. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber My mother told me just how he would woo, [Exit. SCENE III.-The Florentine Camp. Enter the two French Lords, and two or three Soldiers. 1 Lord. You have not given him his mother's letter? 2 Lord. I have deliver'd it an hour since: there is something in 't that stings his nature; for, on the reading it, he changed almost into another man. 1 Lord. He has much worthy blaine laid upon him, for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a lady. 2 Lord. Especially he hath incurred the everlast ing displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. 1 Lord. When you have spoken it 't is dead, and am the grave of it. I he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition. 1 Lord. Now, God delay our rebellion; as we are ourselves what things are we! 2 Lord. Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of all treasons we still see them reveal themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends; so he, that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in his proper stream o'ertlows himself. 1 Lord. Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company to-night? [his hour. 2 Lord. Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to I Lord. That approaches apace: I would gladly have him see his company anatomized; that he might take a measure of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit. 2 Lord. We will not meddle with him till he come; for his presence must be the whip of the other. 1 Lord. In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? 2 Lord. I hear there is an overture of peace. 1 Lord. Nay, I assure you a peace concluded. 2 Lord. What will count Rousillon do then? will he travel higher, or return again into France? 1 Lord. I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether of his council. fdeal of his act. 2 Lord. Let it be forbid, sir! so should I be a great 1 Lord. Sir, his wife, some two months since, fied from his house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le grand; which holy undertaking, with most austere sanctimony, she accomplished: and, there residing, the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven. 2 Lord. How is this justified? I Lord. The stronger part of it by her own letters; which makes her story true, even to the point of her death: her death itself, which could not be her office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by the rector of the place. 2 Lord. Hath the count all this intelligence? 1 Lord. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, to the full arming of the verity. 2 Lord. I am heartily sorry that he 'll be glad of this. 1 Lord. How mightily, sometimes, we make us comforts of our losses! 2 Lord. And how mightily, some other times, we drown our gain in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath here acquired for him, shall at home be encountered with a shame as ample. 1 Lord. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherished by our virtues. Enter a Servant. How now? where 's your master? Serv. He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath taken a solemn leave; his lordship will next letters of commendations to the king. morning for France. The duke hath offered him 2 Lord. They shall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can commend. Enter Bertram. 1 Lord. They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. Here 's his lordship now. How now, my lord, is 't not after midnight? Ber. I have to-night despatched sixteen businesses, a month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: I have conge'd with the duke; done my adicu with his nearest; buried a wife; mourned for her; writ to my lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy; and, between these main parcels of despatch, effected many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but that I have not ended yet. 2 Lord. If the business be of any difficulty, and this morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your lordship. Ber. I mean the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it hereafter: But shall we have this dia 2 Lord. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman logue between the fool and the soldier?-Come here in Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this bring forth this counterfeit module; he has de night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour:ceived me, like a quble-meaning prophesier. * Μ 2 Lord. Bring him fortn: [Exeunt Soldiers.] he hath sat in the stocks all night, poor gallant knave. Ber. No matter; his heels have deserved it, in usurping his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? 1 Lord. I have told your lordship already; the stocks carry him. But to answer you as you would be understood,-he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to this very instant disaster of his setting the stocks: And what think you he hath Ber. Nothing of me, has he? [con essed? 2 Lord. His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his face: if your lordship be in 't, as I be lieve you are, you must have the patience to hear it. Re-enter Soldiers, with Parolles. Ber. A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of me; hush! hush! I Lord. Hoodman comes! Porto tartarossa. Par. I will confess what I know without constraint; 2 Lord. Boblibindo chicurmurco. 1 Sold. You are a merciful general:-Our general bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. Par. And truly, as I hope to live. 1 Sold. First demand of him how many horse the duke is strong.' What say you to that? Par. Five or six thousand; but very weak and unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to live. 1 Sold. Shall I set down your answer so? Par. Do; I'll take the sacrament on 't, how and which way you will. [is this! Ber. All's one to him. What a past-saving slave I Lord. You are deceived, my lord; this is monsieur Parolles, the gallant militarist, (that was his own phrase,) that had the whole theorick of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger. 1 Sold. Do you know this captain Dumain? Par. I know him: he was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's fool with child; a dumb innocent that could not say him nay. [First Lord lifts up his hand in anger. Ber. Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. [ence's camp? Sold. Well, is this captain in the duke of FlorPar. Upon my knowledge he is, and lousy. 1 Lord. Nay, look not so upon me; we shall hear of your lordship anon. 1 Sold. What is his reputation with the duke? Par. The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him out o'the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket. 1 Sold. Marry, we 'll search. Par. In good sadness, I do not know; either it is 1 Sold. Here 't is: here 's a paper. I Sold. Shall I read it [to you? 'Dian. The count 's a fool, and full of gold,'Par. That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one count advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but, for all that, very ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again. Par. My meaning in 't, I protest, was very honest 1 Sold. Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. in the behalf of the maid: for i knew the young count to be a dangerous and lascivious boy; who is a whale to virginity, and devours up all the fry it Ber. Damnable, both sides rogue! [finds. 1 Sold. [take it; 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and After he scores, he never pays the score: Half won is match well made; match, and well make it; And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this, 2 Lord. I will never trust a man again, for keep- Par. Five or six thousand horse, I said, I will say true, or thereabouts, set down,- for I'll speak truth. 1 Lord. He's very near the truth in this. Ber. But I con him no thanks for 't, in the nature he delivers it. Par. Poor rogues, I pray you, say. 1 Sold. Well, that 's set down. Par. I humbly thank you, sir; a truth's a truth, the rogues are marvellous poor. 1 Sold. Demand of him, of what strength they are a-foot.' What say you to that? For count of this the count 's a fool, I know it, Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. 'Thine, as he vow'd to thee in thine ear, 'PAROLLES.' Ber. He shall be whipped through the army, with this rhyme in his forehead. 2 Lord. This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold linguist, and the armipotent soldier. Ber. I could endure anything before but a cat, and now he's a cat to me. 1 Sold. I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be fain to hang you. Par. By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present Par. My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio a hun- to die; but that, my offences being many I would dred and fifty, Sebastian so many, Corambus so repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, sir, many, Jaques so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowic, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or anywhere, so I may and Gratii, two hundred fifty each: mine own live. company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hun- 1 Sold. We'll see what may be done, so you con dred fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and fess freely; therefore, once more to this captain sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand poll; half of the which dare not shake the snow from off their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces. Ber. What shall be done to him? 1 Lord. Nothing, but let him have thanks. mand of him my condition, and what credit I with the duke. Dumain: You have answered to his reputation with the duke, and to his valour: What is his honesty? Par. He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister; for rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus. He, professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking them De- he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie, sir, with have such volubility, that you would think truth were a fool: drunkenness is his best virtue; for he will be 1 Sold. Well, that's set down. 'You shall de- swine-drunk, and in his sleep he does little harm, mand of him, whether one captain Dumain be i' save to his bed-clothes about him; but they know the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is his conditions, and lay him in straw. I have but with the duke, what his valour, honesty, and ex- little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has everypertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not thing that an honest man should not have; what possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to cor- an honest man should have, he has nothing. rupt him to a revolt.' What say you to this? what 1 Lord. I begin to love him for this. do you know of it? Ber. For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon him for me, he is more and more a cat. Par. I beseech you, let me answer to the particuar of the intergatories: Demand them singly. Sold. What say you to his expertness in war? Par. Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the Dear almost as his life; which gratitude English tragedians,-to belie him I will not,-and Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, more of his soldiership I know not; except, in that And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd country, he had the honour to be the officer at a His grace is at Marseilles; to which place place there called Mile-end, to instruct for the We have convenient convoy. You must know doubling of files: I would do the man what hon- I am supposed dead: the army breaking, our I can, but of this I am not certain. My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, And by the leave of my good lord the king, We'll be before our welcome. Gentle madam, 1 Lord. He hath out-villained villainy so far, that the rarity redeems him. Ber. A pox on him! he 's a cat still. 1 Sold. His qualities being at this poor price, I need not to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt. Par. Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the entail from all remainders and a perpetual succession for it perpetually. 1 Sold. What's his brother, the other captain Du2 Lord. Why does he ask him of me? [main? 1 Sold. What 's he? Par. E'en a crow of the same nest; not altogether so great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: In a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming on he has the cramp. 1 Sold. If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine? [Rousillon. Par. Ay, and the captain of his horse, count 1 Sold. I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. Par. I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run into this danger: Yet who would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? [Aside. 1 Sold. There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the general says, you, that have so traitorously discovered the secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no honest use; therefore you must die. Come, headsman, off with his head. Par. O Lord, sir; let me live, or let me see my death! 1 Sold. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. [Unmuffling him. So, look about you; Know you any here? Ber. Good morrow, noble captain. 2 Lord. God bless you, captain Parolles. 1 Lord. God save you, noble captain. 2 Lord. Captain, what greeting will you to my lord Lafeu? I am for France. 1 Lord. Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the count Rousillon? an I were not a very coward I'd compel it of you; but fare you well." [Exeunt Bertram, Lords, &c. 1 Sold. You are undone, captain: all but your scarf, that has a knot on 't yet. Par. Who cannot be crushed with a plot? 1 Sold. If you could find out a country where but women were that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare you well, sir; I am for France, too; we shall speak of you there. [Exit. Par. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great [Exit. SCENE IV.-Florence. A Room in the Widow's House. Enter Helena, Widow, and Diana. Wid. Nor you, mistress, Palace. Enter Countess, Lafeu, and Clown. Laf. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipttaffata fellow there, whose villainous saffron would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at this hour, and your son here at home more advanced by the king, than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. Count. I would I had not known him! it was the death of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had praise for creating: if she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love. Laf. T was a good lady, 't was a good lady: we may pick a thousand sallets, ere we light on such another herb. Clo. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the sallet, or, rather the herb of grace. Laf. They are not sallet-herbs, you knave, they are nose-herbs. Clo. I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir, I have not much skill in grass. [or a fool? Laf. Whether dost thou profess thyself-a knave Clo. A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave Laf. Your distinction? [at a man's. Clo. I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his service. Laf. So you were a knave at his service, indeed. Clo. And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. [and fool. Laf. I will subscribe for thee; thou art both knave Clo. At your service. Laf. No, no, no. Clo. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as great a prince as you are. Laf. Who 's that? a Frenchman? Clo. Faith, sir, 'a has an English name; but his phisnomy is more hotter in France than there. Laf. What prince is that? Clo. The black prince, sir, alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil. Laf. Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not Hel. That you may well perceive I have not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; wrong'd you, One of the greatest in the Christian world serve him still. Clo. I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the world; let his nobility remain in his court. I am for the Not here, sir? house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too | And aid me with that store of power you have, little for pomp to enter: some that humble them- To come into his presence. selves may; but the many will be too chill and ten- Ast. The king 's not here. der, and they 'll be for the flowery way, that leads Hel. to the broad gate and the great fire. Ast. Laf. Go thy ways, I begin to be a-weary of thee; and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well looked to, without any tricks. of nature. Clo. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law [Exit. Laf. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy. Count. So he is. My lord, that 's gone, made himself much sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. Laf. I like him well; 't is not amiss: And I was about to tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death, and that my lord your son was upon his return home, I moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness hath promised me to do it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it? Count. With very much content, my lord, and I wish it happily effected. Laf. His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as when he numbered thirty; he will be here to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence hath seldom failed. Count. It rejoices me that I hope I shall see him ere I die. I have letters, that my son will be here to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain with me till they meet together. Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might safely be admitted. [lege. Count. You need but plead your honourable priviLaf Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but, I thank my God, it holds yet. Re-enter Clown. Clo. O madam, yonder 's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on 's face; whether there be a scar under it, or no, the velvet knows; but 't is a goodly patch of velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right check is worn bare. Laf. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so, belike, is that. Clo. But it is your carbonadoed face. Laf. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier. Clo. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man. [Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I.-Marseilles. A Street. Hel. But this exceeding posting, day and night, This man may help me to his majesty's ear, Hel. Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. Hel. I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen What's your will? Not, indeed: Hel. This I'll do for you. SCENE II.-Rousillon. The inner Court of the Countess's Palace. Enter Clown and Parolles. Par. Good monsieur Lavatch, give my lord Lafeu this letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong dis. pleasure. Clo. Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. Pri thee allow the wind. Par. Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake but by a metaphor. Clo. Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee get thee further. Par. Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. tune's close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, Clo. Foh, prithee stand away; A paper from for. here he comes himself. Enter Lafeu. Here is a pur of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's cat, (but not a musk-cat,) that has fallen into the unclean died withal: Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may; fish-pond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is mudrascally knave. I do pity his distress in my similes for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, of comfort, and leave him to your lordship. [Exit. Par. My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly scratched. Laf. And what would you have me to do? 't is too late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who of herself is a good lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for you: Let the justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business. [word. Par. I beseech your honour to hear me one single Laf. You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha 't; save your word. Par. My name, my good lord, is Parolles. Laf. You beg more than word then.-Cox' my passion! give me your hand: How does your drum? Par. O my good lord, you were the first that found [thee. Laf. Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost Par. It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, for you did bring me out. me. Laf. Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once both the office of God and the devil? one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The king 's coming, I know by his trumpets.-Sirrah, inquire further after me; 1 had talk of you last night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat; go to, follow. Par. I praise God for you, [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The same. A Room in the Countess's The main consents are had; and here we 'll stay Paluce. Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, Lords, King. We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem Count. 'Tis past, my liege: And I beseech your majesty to make it Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, O'erbears it, and burns on. King. To see our widower's second marriage-day. Or, ere they meet in me, O nature cesse. Laf. Come on, my son, in whom my house's name I saw upon her finger. Ber. Hers it was not. I would relieve her: Had you that craft, to reave My honour'd lady, Of richest eyes; whose words all ears took captive; We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill him I shall, my liege. [Exit. King. What says he to your daughter? have you spoke? Laf. All that he is hath reference to your highness. My high-repented blames, Dear sovereign, pardon to me. King. All is whole; Not one word more of the consumed time. Ber. Admiringly, my liege: at first I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart Ber. My gracious sovereign, Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, The ring was never hers. Count. Son, on my life, I could not answer in that course of honour (Where you have never come,) or sent it us honour, And mak'st conjectural fears to come into me, My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, Ber. If you shall prove This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, Where yet she never was. [Ex. Ber., guarded. Enter the Astringer. King. I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. Ast. Gracious sovereign, Whether I have been to blame, or no, I know not: Here's a petition from a Florentine, Who hath, for four or five removes, come short To tender it herself. I undertook it, Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech Of the poor suppliant, who, by this, I know Is here attending: her business looks in her With an importing visage; and she told me, In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern Your highness with herself. King. [Reads.] Upon his many protestations to marry me, when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won me. Now is the count Rousillon a widower; his vows are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow him to his country for justice: Grant it me, O king: |