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 honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'd beat thee: methinks, thou art a gene

Pur. A most harsh one; and not to be under-ral offence, and every man should beat thee. I stood without bloody succeeding. My master?

think, thou wast created for men to breath3 themPar. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.

Laf. Are you companion to the count Rousillon?selves upon thee.
Par. To any count; to all counts; to what is

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

Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I That hugs his kicksy-wicksy1 here at home; will not bate thee a scruple.

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.

Par. Well, thou hast a son shall take this dis-I'll grace 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 A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd: him with any convenience, an he were double and Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: double a lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, The king has done you wrong; but, hush! 'tis so. than I would have of-I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again.

Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,
Spoke with the king, and have procur'd his leave
For present parting; only, he desires
Some private speech with you.
I pray you.-Come, sirrah.
I shall obey his will.
[Exeunt. You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
Enter 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 business; therefore am I found
So much unsettled: This drives me to entreat you,
That presently you take your way for home;
And rather mise, than ask, why I entreat you;
For my respects are better than they seem;
And my appointments have in them a need,

Greater than shows itself, at the first view,
To you that know them not. This to my mother:
[Giving a letter.
"Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so
I leave you to your wisdom.
Hel.
Sir, I can nothing say,
But that I am your most obedient servant.
Ber. Come, come, no more of that.
Hel.
And ever shall
With true observance seek to eke out that,
Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd
To equal my great fortune.
Ber.

Let that go:

My haste is very great: Farewell; hie home.
Hel. Pray, sir, your pardon.
Ber.

Well, what would you say?
Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe;'
Nor dare I say, 'tis mine; and yet it is;
But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.

Ber.

What would you have? Hel. Something; and scarce so much:-nothing,

indeed.I would not tell you what I would: my lord-'faith,

And all the honours, that can fly from us,
Shall on them settle. You know your places well;
When better fall, for your avails they fell:
To-morrow to the field. [Flourish. Exeunt.
SCENE II.-Rousillon. A room in the Countess's
Palace. Enter Countess and Clown.
Count. It hath happened all as I would have
had it, save, that he comes not along with her.

Clo. By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man.

Count. By what observance, I pray you?

Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing; mend the ruff, and sing; ask questions, and sing pick his teeth, and sing: I know a man that had this trick of melancholy, sold a goodly manor for

Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur?-I
Farewell.
[Exit Helena.
Go thou toward home; where I will never come,
Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the drum :-
Away, and for our flight,
Par.

Bravely, coragio! [Exe.

АСТ ПІ.

SCENE I--Florence. A room in the Duke's Palace. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, attended; two French Lords, and others.

Duke. So that, from point to point, now have
you heard

The fundamental reasons of this war;
Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
And more thirsts after.

1 Lord.

Holy seems the quarrel
Upon your grace's part; black and fearful
On the opposer.

Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin
France

Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom
Against our borrowing prayers.
2 Lord.
Good my lord,
The reasons of our state I cannot yield,2
But like a common and an outward man,3
That the great figure of a council frames
By self-unable motion: therefore dare not
Say what I think of it; since I have found
Myself in my uncertain grounds to fail
As often as I guess'd.

Duke.

Be it his pleasure.

2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of our
ture,4

That surfeit on their ease, will, day by day,
Come here for physic.

Duke.

(1) Possess.

[Erit.

Count. What have we here? Clo. E'en that you have there. Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daughter-inlaw: she hath recovered the king, and undone me. have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the not eternal. You shall hear, I am run away; know it, before the report come. If there be breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you.

Your unfortunate son,

BERTRAM.
This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
To fly the favours of so good a king;
To pluck his indignation on thy head,
By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.

Re-enter Clown.

Clo. O madam, yonder is heavy news within, between two soldiers and my young lady. Count. What is the matter?

Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would.

Count. Why should he be kill'd?

Clo. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of men, though it be the getting of children. Here they come, will tell you more: for my part, I only hear, your son was run away. [Erit Clown. Enter Helena and two Gentlemen.

1 Gent. Save you, good madam.

Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gent. Do not say so.

Count. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, gentlemen,

I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, That the first face of neither, on the start, na-Can woman me unto't :-Where is my son, I pray you?

Welcome shall they be ;

(2). e. I cannot inform you of the reasons,

One not in the secret of affairs.

As we say at present, our young fellows,

2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of
Florence:

We met him thitherward; from thence we came,
And, after some despatch in hand at court,

(5) The folding at the top of the boot.

(6) i. e. Affect me suddenly and deeply, as our

sex are usually affected,

Thither we bend again.
That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou
Hel. Look on this letter, madam; here's my Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark

passport.

[Reads.] When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body, that I am father to, then call me husband: but in such a then I write

His heart was not consenting to.

Count. Nothing in France, until he have no wife!
There's nothing here that is too good for him,
But only she; and she deserves a lord,
That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,
And call her hourly, mistress. Who was with him?
1 Gent. A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have some time known.
Count.

Parolles, was't not?
1 Gent. Ay, my good lady, he.
Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of wick-
edness.

My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.

1 Gent.

Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that, too much,
Which holds him much to have.

Count. You are welcome, gentlemen.
I will entreat you, when you see my son,
To tell him, that his sword can never win

The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you
Written to bear along.

2 Gent.
We serve you, madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs.
Count. Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near?

Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,
That ride upon the violent speed of fire,
Fly with false aim; move the still-piercing air,
That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord!
Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;
Whoever charges on his forward breast,
I am the caitiff, that do hold him to it;
And, though I kill him not, I am the cause
His death was so effected: better 'twere,
I met the ravin' lion when he roar'd
With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere
That all the miseries which nature owes,
Were mine at once: no, come thou home, Rousillon,
Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,
As oft it loses all; I will be gone:
My being here it is, that holds thee hence:
Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although
The air of Paradise did fan the house,
And angels offic'd all: I will be gone;
That pitiful rumour may report my flight,
To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!
For, with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.

[Exit.

SCENE III.-Florence. Before the Duke's Pa
lace. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence,
Bertram, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others.
Duke. The general of our horse thou art; and we,
Upon thy promising fortune.
Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence,

Ber.

Sir, it is
We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake,
A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
To the extreme edge of hazard.
Duke.
Then go thou forth;
As thy auspicious mistress!
And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,

Ber.

This very day,
Great Mars, I put myself into thy file:
Make me but like my thoughts; and I shall prove
A lover of thy drum, hater of love. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.-Rousillon. A room in the Coun-
tess's Palace. Enter Countess and Steward.
Count. 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? Read it again.
Stew. I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone;
Ambitious love hath so in me offended,

That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon,

With sainted vow my faults to have amended.
Write, write, that, from the bloody course of war.
My dearest master, your dear son may hie;
Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far,
His name with zealous fervour sanctify:
His taken labours bid him me forgive;
in, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth
From courtly friends, with camping foes to live,
Where death and danger dog the heels of worth:
He is too good and fair for death and me;"
Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.

[Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen. Hel. Till I have no wife, I have nothing

France.

Nothing in France, until he has no wife!
Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France,
Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I
That chase thee from thy country, and expose
Those tender limbs of thine to the event
Of the none-sparing war? and is it I

(1) i. e. When you can get the ring, which is on my finger, into your possession.

(2) If thou keepest all thy sorrows to thyself. (3) In reply to the gentlemen's declaration, that they are her servants, the countess answers-nol

Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words!

Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, otherwise than as she returns the same offices of civility.

Ravenous.

(5) Alluding to the story of Hercules,
Discretion or thought,

As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her,
I could have well diverted her intents,
Which thus she hath prevented.

Stew.

Pardon me, madam:
If I had given you this at over-night,

She might have been o'ertaken; and yet she writes,
Pursuit would be in vain.

Count.
What angels shall
Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive,
Unless her prayers, whom Heaven delights to hear,
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath
Of greatest justice.-Write, write, Rinaldo,
To this unworthy husband of his wife;
Let every word weigh heavy of her worth,
That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief,
Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.
Despatch the most convenient messenger:-
When, haply, he shall hear that she is gone,
He will return; and hope I may, that she,
Hearing so much, will speed her foot again,
Led hither by pure love which of them both,
Is dearest to me, I have no skill in sense

But till the troops come by,

will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd; The rather, for, I think, I know your hostess, As ample as myself.

Hel.

Is it yourself?
Wid. If you shall please so, pilgrim.
Hel. I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.
Wid. You came, I think, from France?
Hel.
I did so.
Wid. Here you shall see a countryman of yours,
That has done worthy service.

Hel.
His name, I pray you?
Dia. The count Rousillon: Know you such a one?
Hel. But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him:
His face I know not.
Dia.

Whatsoc'er he is,

To make distinction:-Provide this messenger:-He's bravely taken here. He stole from France,
My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak;
As 'tis reported, for the king had married him
Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. Against his liking: Think you it is so?

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Without the walls of Florence. A

tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, Mariana, and other citi

zens.

Wid. Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we shall lose all the sight.

Dia. They say, the French count has done most honourable service.

Wid. It is reported, that he has taken their greatest commander; and that with his own hand he slew the duke's brother. We have lost our la

bour; they are gone a contrary way: bark! you may know by their trumpets.

Mar. Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed

of this French carl: the honour of a maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty.

Hel. Ay, surely, mere the truth; I know his lady.

Dia. There is a gentleman that serves the count, Reports but coarsely of her.

Hel.

Dia. Monsieur Parolles.
Hel.

What's his name?

O, I believe with him,
In argument of praise, or to the worth
Of the great count himself, she is too mean
To have her name repeated; all her deserving
Is a reserved honesty, and that
have not heard examin'd.

Dia.

Alas, poor lady! of a detesting lord.' 'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife

her

Wid. A right good creature: wheresoe'er she is, Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd. Hel. How do you mean? Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have been solicited by a gentleman, his companion. May be, the amorous count solicits her Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one Pa- In the unlawful purpose. rolles: a filthy officer he is in those suggestions? for the young earl.-Beware of them, Diana; their And brokes with all that can in such a suit promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: engines of lust, are not the things they go under: But she is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard many a maid hath been seduced by them; and In honestest defence.

Wid.

He does, indeed;

rentine army, Bertram, and Parolles. Mar. The gods forbid else!

the misery is, example, that so terrible shows in Enter with drum and colours, a party of the Flo the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope, I need not to advise you further; but I hope your own grace Wid. will keep you where you are, though there were That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son; no further danger known, but the modesty which That, Escalus. is so lost.

So, now they come :

Which is the Frenchman?

He; That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow; I would, he lov'd his wife: if he were honester, pil-He were much goodlier:-Is't not a handsome gentleman?

Enter Helena, in the dress of a pilgrim. Wid. I hope so.-Look, here comes a grin: I know she will lie at my house: thither they send one another: I'll question her.-God save you, pilgrim! Whither are you bound? Hel. To Saint Jaques le grand.

Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?

(1) Weigh, here means to value or esteem, (2) Temptations.

(3) They are not the things for which their names would make them pass,

Hel. I like him well.