Laf. I'd give bay Curtal,' and his furniture, My mouth no more were broken than these boys', And writ as little beard.

King.

Peruse them well: Not one of those, but had a noble father. 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 should'st choose; but,
refus'd,

be

Let the while 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 honour, 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;

I'll never do you wrong for your own 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.

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 colour, 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 proceed,
The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
Where great additions swell,' and virtue none,
It is a dropsied honour: 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 honour: that is honour's scorn,
Which challenges itself as honour's born,
And is not like the sire: Honours 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 of is dumb,
Where dust, and damned oblivion, is the tomb
Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?
If thou canst like this creature as a maid,

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

Ilel. That you are well restor'd, my lord, I am
glad;

Let the rest go.

King. My honour's at the stake; which to defeat,
I must produce my power: Here, take her hand,
Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift;
That does 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 honour, where
We please to have it grow: Check thy contempt:
Obey our will, which travails in thy good:

Laf. There's one grape yet,-I am sure, thy Believe not thy disdain, but presently
father drank wine.-But if thou be'st not an ass, Do thine own fortunes that obedient right,
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,
In'o 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 eves.
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 rais'd me from
my sickly bed.

Ber. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down,
Must answer for your raising? I knew her well;
She had her breeding at my father's charge:

(1) A docked horse.

(2) i. e. I have no more to say to you. (3) The lowest chance of the dice.

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 honour,
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.

Ber.
I take her hand.
King. Good fortune, and the favour of the king,
Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient, on the now-born brief,

(4) i. e. The want of title. (5) Titles.
(6) Good is good independent of any worldly
distinction, and so is vileness vile.

Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I That hugs his kicksy-wicksy 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. [Erit. 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 him with any convenience, an 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.

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.

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 valour; 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, casketted my trea-
sure

When I should take possession of the bride,-
Given order for our horses; and to-night,

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, ere I do begin,and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a very little of nothing. Par. Away, thou art a knave.

Clo. You should have said, sir, before a knave thou art a knave; that is, before me thou art a knave: this had been truth, sir.

Par. Goto, 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, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge;

But puts it off by a compell'd restraint;

ter end of a dinner; but one that lies three thirds, Lof. A good traveller is something at the latand uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten. God save you, captain.

Ber. Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur ?

Par. I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's displeasure.

Laf. You have made shift to run into't, boots custard; and out of it you'll run again, rather and spurs, and all, like him that leap'd into the than suffer question for your residence.

Ber. It may be, you have mistaken him, my lord. Laf. And shall do so ever, though I took him at this of me, There can be no kernel in this light his prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe nut; the soul of this man is his clothes: trust him not in matter of heavy consequence; I have kept

Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with of them tame, and know their natures.-Farewell,

sweets,

Which they distil now in the curbed time,

To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,

And pleasure drown the brim.

What's his will else?

Hel.
Par. That you will take your instant leave o'
the king,

And make this haste as your own good proceeding,
Strengthen'd with that apology you think
May make it probable need."

Hel.
What more commands he?
Par. That, having this obtain'd, you presently
Attend his further pleasure.

Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will.
Par. I shall report it so.
Hel.

I pray you.-Come, sirrah. [Exeunt. SCENE V.-Another room in the same. Enter

Lafeu and Bertram.

monsieur: I have spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil.

Par. An idle lord, I swear.

Ber. I think so.

Par. Why, do you not know him?

[Exit.

Ber. Yes, I do know him well; and common

speech

Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

Ber.

Enter Helena.

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 shall obey his will.
You must not marvel, 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 business; therefore am I found
So much unsettled: This drives me to entreat you,
That presently you take your way for home;
And rather muse,' than ask, why I entreat you;
For my respects are better than they seem;
And my appointments have in them a need,

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

(3) Wonder.

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.

offence, and every man should beat thee. I think, thou wast created for men to breath3 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 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. [Exit.

Enter Bertram.

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 dis- very good; let it be concealed a while. suade me 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,

Par. Good, very good; it is so then.-Good,

mercy

Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial; which if-Lord have on thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, for I look through thee. Give me thy hand.

Par. My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.

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

of it.

Par. I have not, my lord, deserved it.

I

Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
Par. What is the matter, sweet heart?

Ber. Although before the solemn priest I have

sworn,

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 bcd her.
Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!
Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the
import is,

I

know not yet.

Par. Ay, that would be known: To the wars, my boy, to the wars!

He wears his honour in a box unseen,

Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I That hugs his kicksy-wicksy1 here at home; 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.

[Erit.

Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should sustain the bound 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 these 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.
send her straight away: To-morrow

Par. Well, thou hast a son shall take this dis- I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
grace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord!-
Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of

Par. Why, these balls bound: there's noise in it.
-'Tis hard;

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 [Exeunt. but meet him again. SCENE IV.-The same. Another room in the Enter Helena and Clown. Hel. My mother greets me kindly: Is she well? Clo. She is not well; but yet she has her health; (3) Exercise. (4) A cant term for a wife. (5) The house made gloomy by discontent.