Laf.

Laf. Nay, come your ways.
King.

This haste hath wings indeed.
Laf. Nay, come your ways;
This is his majesty, say your mind to him:
A traitor you do look like: but such traitors
His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle,'
That dare leave two together; fare you well. [Exit.
King. Now, fair one, does your business fol-
low us?

Hel. Ay, my good lord. Gerard de Narbon was My father; in what he did profess, well found." King. I knew him.

Hel. The rather will I spare my praises towards
him;

Knowing him, is enough. On his bed of death
Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one,
Which, as the dearest issue of his practice,
And of his old experience the only darling,
He bade me store up, as a triple eye,'
Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so:
And hearing your high majesty is touch'd
With that malignant cause wherein the honor
Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,
I come to tender it, and my appliance,
With all bound humbleness.

King.

We thank you, maiden; But may not be so credulous of cure,When our most learned doctors leave us; and The congregated college have concluded That laboring art can never ransom nature From her inaidable estate,-I say we must not So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, To prostitute our past-cure malady To empirics; or to dissever so

Our great self and our credit, to esteem

A senseless help, when help past sense we deem.
Hel. My duty then shall pay me for my pains:
I will no more enforce mine office on you;
Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
A modest one, to bear me back again.

King. I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give,

As one near death to those that wish him live:
But what at full I know, thou know'st no part;
I knowing all my peril, thou no art.

Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try,
Since you set up your rest 'gainst-remedy:
He that of greatest works is finisher,
Oft does them by the weakest minister:
So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown,
When judges have been babes. Great floods have
flown

From simple sources; and great seas have dried,
When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises; and oft it hits,
Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits.
King. I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind
maid;

Thy pains not used, must by thyself be paid:
Proffers, not took, reap thanks for their reward.
Hel Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd:

I am like Pandarus

space

Hop'st thou my cure?

Hel. Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring The greatest grace lending grace, Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring; Ere twice in murk and occidental damp Moist Hesperus hath quenched his sleepy lamp; Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass; Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass What is infirm from the sound part shall fly, Health shall live free, and sickness freely die. King. Upon thy certainty and confidence, What dar'st thou venture?

Hel. Tax of impudence,-A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame,Traduced by odious ballads; my maiden's name Sear'd otherwise; no worse of worst extended, With vilest torture let my life be ended.

King. Methinks, in thee some blessed spirit doth speak;

His powerful sound, within an organ weak:
And what impossibility would slay
In common sense, sense saves another way.
Thy life is dear; for all, that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate;
Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all
That happiness and prime can happy call:
Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate
Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate.
Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try;
That ministers thine own death, if I die.

rest

SCENE II.-Rousillon. A Room in the Countess' Palace.

Enter COUNTESS and Clown.

Count. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your breeding.

Clo. I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I know my business is but to the

court.

Count. To the court! why, what place make you special, when you put off that with such conteinpt? But to the court!

Clo. Truly, madam, if nature have lent a man any manners, he may easily put it off at court; he that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand, and say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and, indeed, such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the court: but, for me, I have an answer will serve all men.

Count. Marry, that's a bountiful answer, that fits all questions.

Clo. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks; the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, or any buttock.

Count. Will your answer serve fit to all ques

tions?

Count. Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all questions?

Clo. From below your duke, to beneath your constable, it will fit any question.

Count. It must be an answer of most monstrous size, that must fit all demands.

Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned should speak truth of it; here is, and all that belongs to't: Ask me, if I am a courtier; it shall do you no harm to learn.

Count. To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in question, hoping to be the wiser

by your answer. I pray you, sir, are you a

courtier?

Clo. O Lord, sir,-There's a simple putting off; more, more, a hundred of them.

Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that

oves you.

Clo. O Lord, sir,-Thick, thick, spare not me. Count. I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.

Clo. O Lord, sir,-Nay, put me to't, I warrant ул.

Count. You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. Clo. O Lord, sir,-Spare not me. Count. Do you cry, O Lord, sir, at your whipping, and spare not me? Indeed, your Ŏ Lord, sir, is very sequent to your whipping; you would answer very well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't.

Clo. I ne'er had worse luck in my life, in myO Lord, sir: I see, things may serve long, but not

serve ever.

Count. I play the noble housewife with the time, to entertain it so merrily with a fool.

Hel. Gentlemen,

Heaven hath through me restor'd the king to health.

All. We understand it, and thank heaven for you.

Hel. I am a simple maid; and therein wealthiest,
That, I protest, I simply am a maid:
Please it your majesty, I have done already :
The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me,
We blush, that thou shouldst choose; but be re-
fus'd,

Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever;
We'll ne'er come there again.

King.
Make choice; and, see,
Who shuns thy love, shuns all his love in me.
Hel. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly:
And to imperial Love, that god most high,

Do my sighs stream.-Sir, will you hear my suit?

1 Lord. And grant it. Hel. Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw ames-ace for my life.

Hel. The honor, sir, that flames in your fair

eyes,.

Before I speak, too threateningly replies:
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
Her that so wishes, and her humble love!
2 Lord. No better, if you please.

Hel. My wish receive, Which great love grant! and so I take my leave. Laf. Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the Turk, to make eunuchs of.

Hel. Be not afraid [To a Lord.] that I your hand should take;

Lustigh is the Dutch word for lusty, cheerful.
A dockd horse. The lowest chance of the dice.

I'll never do you wrong for your wn sake: Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed, Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!

Laf. These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her sure, they are bastards to the English the French ne'er got them.

Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good,

To make yourself a son out of my blood.

4 Lord. Fair one, I think not so.

Laf. There's one grape yet,-I am sure, thy father drank wine.-But if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already.

Hel. I dare not say, I take you; [To BERTRAM.] but I give

Me, and my service, ever whilst I live,
Into your guiding power. This is the man
King. Why then, young Bertram, take her,
she's thy wife.

Ber. My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your highness,

In such a business give me leave to use
The help of mine own eyes.
King.

Know'st thou not, Bertram,

What she has done for me?
Ber.

Yes, my good lord; But never hope to know why I should marry her.

King. Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed.

Ber. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down

Must answer for your raising? I know her well;

She had her breeding at my father's charge:
A poor physician's daughter my wife!-Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever!

King. 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the
which

I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
Of color, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
In differences so mighty: If she be

All that is virtuous, (save what thou dislik'st,
A poor physician's daughter,) thou dislik'st
Of virtue for the name: but do not so:
From lowest place when virtuous things pro
ceed,

The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
Where great additions" swell, and virtue none.
It is a dropsied honor: good alone
Is good, without a name; vileness is so:
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
In these to nature she's immediate heir;
And these breed honor: that is honor's scorn,
Which challenges itself as honor's born,
And is not like the sire: Honors best thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers: the mere word's a slave,
Debauch'd on every tomb; on every grave,
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb,
Where dust, and damned oblivion, is the tomb
Of honor'd bones indeed. What should be

said?

If thou canst like this creature as a maid, i. e. The want of title. Titles.

I can create the rest: virtue, and she,
Is her own dower; honor and wealth from me.
Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
King. Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst
strive to choose.

Hel. That you are well restor'd, my lord, I'm glad;

Let the rest go.

King. My honor's at the stake; which to defeat, I must produce my power: Here, take her hand, Proud, scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; That dost in vile misprision shackle up

My love and her desert; that canst not dream,
We, poising us in her defective scale,

Shall weigh thee to the beam: that wilt not know,
It is in us to plant thine honor, where
We please to have it grow: Check thy contempt:
Obey our will, which travails in thy good:
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims;
Or I will throw thee from my care for ever,
Into the staggers, and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate,
Loosing upon thee in the name of justice,
Without all terms of pity: Speak; thine answer.
Ber. Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit
My fancy to your eyes: When I consider,
What great creation, and what dole of honor,
Flies where you bid it, I find, that she, which late
Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
The praised of the king; who, so ennobled,
Is, as 'twere, born so.

King.
Take her by the hand,
And tell her, she is thine: to whom I promise
A counterpoise; if not to thy estate,

A balance more replete.

King. Good fortune, and the favor of the king, Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, And be performed to-night: the solemn feast Shall more attend upon the coming space, Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her, Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.

[Exeunt KING, BERTRAM, HELENA, Lords, and Attendants.

Laf. Do you hear, 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. Ay; Is it not a language, I speak? Par. A most harsh one; and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. My master?

Laf. Are you companion to the count Rousillon? Par. To any count; to all counts; to what is man. Laf. To what is count's man; count's master is of another style.

Par. You are too old, sir; let it satisfy 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 think thee, for two ordinaries,' to be a pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel: it might pass: yet the scarfs, and the bannerets, about thee, did manifoldly dissuade me

1. r. While I sat twice with thee at dinner.

from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden I have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and that thou art scarce worth.

Par. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,

Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial; which if-Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! So my good window 3 lattice, fare thee well: thy casement I need not cren, for I look through thee. Give me thy hand. Par. My lord, you give me most egregious in dignity.

Laf. Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it."

Par. I have not, my lord, deserved it. Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple.

Par. Well, I shall be wiser.

Laf. E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf, and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold 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-pains for thy sake, and my poor doing eternal: for doing I am past; as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave. [Exit.

Par. Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord!Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him by my life, if I can meet him with any convenience, and he were double and double a lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I would have of-I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again.

Re-enter LAFEU.

Luf. Sirrah, your lord and master's married, there's news for you; you have a new mistress.

Par. I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of your wrongs: He is my good lord: whom I serve above is my master. Laf. Who? God?

Par. Ay, sir.

Laf. The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of thy sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honor, if I were but two hours younger, I'd beat thee; methinks, thou art a general offence, and every man should beat thee. I think, thou wast created for men to breathe' themselves upon thee. Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.

Laf. Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate: you are a vagabond, and no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords, and honorable personages, than the heraldry of your birth and virtue gives you com mission. You are not worth another word, elsu I'd call you knave. I leave you. [Exit.

Enter BERTRAM. Par. Good, very good; it is so then.-Good, very good; let it be concealed a while. Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! Par. What is the matter, sweet-heart?

Ber. Although before the solemn priest I have

sworn,

I will not bed her.

Par. What? what, sweet-heart?

Ber. O, my Parolles, they have married me:-
I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
Par. France is a dog-hole, and yet no more merits
The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!
Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the im-
I know not yet.
[port is,
Par. Ay, that would be known: To the wars,
my boy, to the wars!

He wears his honor in a box unseen,
That hugs his kicksy-wicksy, here at home;
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,

W nich should sustain the bond and high curvet
Of Mars's fiery steed: To other regions!
France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades;
Therefore, to the war!

Ber. It shall be so; I'll 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 speak: His present gift Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, Where noble fellows strike: War is no strife To the dark house, and the detested wife.

Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art sure? Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. I'll send her straight away: To-morrow I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.

Par. Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it.

-"Tis hard;

A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd:
Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go:
The king has done you wrong; but, hush! 'tis so.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. Another Room in the same.
Enter HELENA and Clown.

Hel. My mother greets me kindly: Is she well? Clo. She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's 's very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'the world; but yet she is not well!

Hel. If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's not very well?

Clo. Truly, she's very well, indeed, but for two things.

Hel. What two things?

Clo. One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her quickly! the other, that she's in earth, from whence God send her quickly!

Enter PAROLLES.

Par. Bless you, my fortunate lady!

Hel. I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortunes.

Par. You had my prayers to lead them on: and to keep them on, have them still.-O, my knave! How does my old lady?

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 man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing: To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a very little of nothing.

Par. Away, thou'rt a knave.

Clo. You should have said, sir, before a knave,

4 A cant term for a wife.

The house made gloomy by discontent.

thou art a knave: that is, before me thou art a knave: this had been truth, sir.

Par. Go to, thou art a witty fool, I have found thee. Clo. Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure, and the increase of laughter. Par. A good knave, i'faith, and well fed.Madam, my lord will go away to-night; A very serious business calls on him, The great prerogative and rite of love," [ledge, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowBut puts it off by a compell'd restraint; Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with sweets,

Which they distil now in the curbed time,
To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,
And pleasure drown the brim.

SCENE V.-Another Room in the same.

Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM.

Laf. But I hope, your lordship thinks not him a soldier.

Ber. Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. Laf. You have it from his own deliverance. Ber. And by other warranted testimony. Laf. Then my dial goes not true; I took this lark for a bunting."

Ber. I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in knowledge, and accordingly valiant.

Laf. I have then sinned against his experience, and transgressed against his valor; and my state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent. Here he comes; I pray you, make us friends, I will pursue the amity. Enter PAROLLES.

Par. These things shall be done, sir.

[To BERTRAM. Laf. Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? Par. Sir? Laf. O, I know him well: Ay, sir; he, sir is a good workman, a very good tailor.

Ber. Is she gone to the king? [Aside to PAROLLES.

Par. She is.

Ber. Will she away to-night?
Par. As you'll have her.

Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,
Given order for our horses; and to-night,
When I should take possession of the bride-
And, ere I do begin,

end of a dinner; but one that lies three thirds, and Laf. A good traveller is something at the latter uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings

A specious appearance of necessity.

The bunting nearly resembles the sky-lark, but has little or no song, which gives estimation to the sky-lark.