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 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.

L

[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?

Par. She is.

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

Aside to PAROlles.

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,-

Laf. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lies three-thirds, and

4a bunting.] The bunting is, in feather, size, and form, so like the sky-lark, as to require nice attention to discover the one from the other; it also ascends and sings in the air nearly in the same manner : but it has little or no song, which gives estima tion to the sky-lark.

1

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 and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and out of it you'll run again, rather 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 his prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this of me, There can be no kernel in this light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes: trust him not in matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them tame, and know their natures.-Farewell, monsieur: I have spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. [Exit.

Par. An idle lord, I swear.

Ber. I think so.

Par. Why, do you not know him?

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

Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

Enter HELENA.

Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, Spoke with the king, and have procur'd his leave

4 You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard ;] This odd allusion is not introduced without a view to satire. It was a foolery practised at

For present parting; only, he desires
Some private speech with you.

Ber.

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,
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.
But that I am your most obedient servant.
Ber. Come, come, no more of that.

Sir, I can nothing say,

And ever shall

Hel.
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.

city entertainments, whilst the jester or zany was in vogue, for him to jump into a large deep custard, set for the purpose.

6

5 And rather muse,] To muse is to wonder.

the wealth I owe ;] i. e I own, possess.

Ber.

What would you have?

Hel. Something; and scarce so much :-nothing,

indeed.

I would not tell you what I would: my lord-'faith, yes ;

Strangers, and foes, do sunder, and not kiss.

Ber. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my

lord.

Farewell.

Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur?[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!

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

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,"
But like a common and an outward man,s
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 na

ture,9

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

Duke.

Welcome shall they be ;

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.

SCENE II.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

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?

7 I cannot yield,] I cannot inform you of the reasons.

JOHNSON.

8 an outward man,] i. e. one in the secret of affairs. 9—the younger of our nature,] i. e. as we say at present, our young fellows.

VOL. III.

Y

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