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Clo. By my troth, I take my young lord to be Hel. Look on his letter, madam ; here's my a very melancholy man.
passport. Count. By whát observance, I pray you? [Reads.) When thou canst get the ring upon
Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and my finger, which never shall come off, and sing; mend the ruff, and sing; ask questions, show me a child begotten of thy body, that I and sing ; pick his teeth, and sing: I know a am father to, then call me husband: but in man that had this trick of melancholy, sold a such a then I write a never. goodly manor for a song.
This is a dreadful sentence. Count. Let me see what he writes, and when Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen ? he means to come.
[Opening a letter. 1 Gent. Ay, madam; Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at And, for the contents'sake, are sorry for our pains. court: our old ling and our Isbels o'the country Count. I pr’ythee, lady, have a better cheer; are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, o'the court: the brains of my Cupid's knocked Thou robb'st me of a moiety : He was my son ; out; and I begin to love, as an old man loves But I do wash his name out of my blood, money, with no stomach.
And thou art all my child.--Towards Florence Count. What have we here?
is he? Clo. E'en that you have there. [Erit. 2 Gent. Ay, madam.
Count. [Reads.) I have sent you a daughter- Count. And to be a soldier? iz-law : she hath recovered the king, and undone 2 Gent. Such is his noble purpose : and beme. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and
lieve't, suorn to make the not eternal. You shall hear, The duke will lay upon him all the honour, I am run away; know it, before the report come. That good convenience claims. If there be breadth enough in the world, I will Count. Return you thither? hold a long distance. My duty to you.
1 Gent. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of Your unfortunate son,
BERTRAM. Hel. (Reads.] Till I have no wife, I have noThis is not well, rash and unbridled boy,
thing in France. To fly the favours of so good a king;
'Tis bitter. To pluck his indignation on thy head,
Count. Find you that there? By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous
Hel. Ay, madam. For the contempt of empire.
1 Gent. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand,
haply, which Re-enter Clown.
His heart was not consenting to. Clo. O madam, yonder is heavy news within, Count. Nothing in France, until he have no between two soldiers and my young lady.
wife ! Count. What is the matter?
There's nothing here, that is too good for him, Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, But only she ; and she deserves a lord, some comfort ; your son will not be killed so That twenty such rude boys might tend upon, soon as I thought he would.
And call her hourly, mistress. Who was with him? Count. Why should he be kill'd ?
1 Gent. A servant only, and a gentleman Clo. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I | Which I have some time known. hear he does': the danger is in standing to't ; Count. Parolles, was't not? that's the loss of men, though it be the getting 1 Gent. Ay, my good lady, he. of children. Here they come, will tell you more: Count. A very tainted fellow, and full of for my part, I only hear, your son was run away. wickedness.
[Erit Clown. My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement. Enter HELENA and two Gentlemen.
1 Gent. Indeed, good lady, 1 Gent. Save you, good madam.
The fellow has a deal of that, too much, Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. Which holds him much to have. 2 Gent. Do not say so.
Count. You are welcome, gentlemen ;
. Think upon patience.-'Pray you, gen- I will entreat you, when you see my son,
To tell him, that his sword can never win have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief, The honour that he loses : more I'll entreat you That the first face of neither, on the start,
Written to bear along. Can woman me unto't :- Where is my son, I 2 Gent. We serve you, madam, pray you?
In that and all your worthiest affairs. 2 Gent. Diadam, he's gone to serve the duke Count. Not so, but as we change our courtesies. of Florence :
Will you draw near ? We met him thitherward; from thence we came,
[Exeunt Countess and Gentlemen. And, after some dispatch in hand at court, Hel, Til I have no wife, I have nothing int
Thither we bend again.
Nothing in France, until he has no wife ! Might you not know, she would do as she has
Stew. I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone; Of the none-sparing war ? and is it I,
Ambitious love hath so in me offended, That drive thee from the sportive court, where That bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon, thou
With sainted vow my faults to hare amended. Was shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark Write, write, that, from the bloody course of rar, Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, My dearest master, your dear son, may hie; That ride upon the violent speed of fire, Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far, Fly with false aim ; move the still-piercing air, His name with zealous fervour sanctify: That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord ! His taken labours bid him me forgive; Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; 1, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth Whoever charges on his forward breast, From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, I am the caitiff, that do hold him to't ;
Where death and danger dog the heels of worth: And, though I kill him not, I am the cause He is too good and fair for death and me; His death was so effected : better 'twere, Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. I met the ravin lion when he roar'd With sharp constraint of hunger ; better 'twere Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildThat all the miseries, which nature owes,
est words ! Were mine at once: No, come thou home, Rou- Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, sillor,
As letting her pass so; had I spoke with her,
Which thus she hath prevented.
She might have been o'erta'en ; and yet she And angels offic'd all: I will be gone ;
writes, That pitiful rumour may report my flight, Pursuit would be in vain. To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! Count. What angel shall For, with the dark, poor thief, l'll steal away. Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive,
[Exit. | Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to
hear, SCENE III.Florence. Before the Duke's of greatest justice.-Write, write, Rinaldo,
And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath palace.
To this unworthy husband of his wife ; Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, BER- Let every word weigh heavy of her worth, TRAM, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others.
That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief, Duke. The general of our horse thou art ; and Despatch the most convenient messenger :
Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. we, Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence He will return; and hope I may, that she,
When, haply, he shall hear that she is gone, Upon thy promising fortune.
Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, Ber. Sir, it is
Led hither by pure love: which of them both A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
Is dearest to me, I have no skill in sense We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake, To make distinction :-Provide this messenTo the extreme edge of hazard.
ger:Duke. Then go thou forth;
My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak; And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,
Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me As thy auspicious mistress!
[Eseunt. Ber. This very day, Great Mars, I put myself into thy file :
SCENE V.-Without the walls of Floretice. Make me but like my thoughts; and I shall prove
A tucket afar off. Enter an old Widow of FloA lover of thy drum, hater of love. Ereunt.
Diana, VIOLENTA, Mariana, and
other Citizens. SCENE IV.-Rousillon. A room in the Wid. Nay, come ; for if they do approach the Countess's palace.
city, we shall lose all the sight.
Dia. They say, the French count has done Enter Countess and Steward.
most honourable service. Count. Alas! and would you take the letter of Wid. It is reported that he has taken their her ?
greatest commander: and that with his own hand
he slew the duke's brother. We have lost our Hel. Ay, surely, mere the truth ; I know his
labour; they are gone a contrary way: hark! you lady. - may know by their trumpets.
Dia. There is a gentleman, that serves the Mar. Come, let's return again, and suffice count, ourselves with the report of it. Well, Diana, Reports but coarsely of her. take heed of this French earl: the honour of a Hel. What's his name? maid is her name ; and no legacy is so rich as Dia. Monsieur Parolles. honesty.
Hel. O, I believe with him, Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have in argument of praise, or to the worth been solicited by a gentleman his companion. Of the great count himself, she is too mean
Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one Pa- To have her name repeated ; all her deserving rolles: a filthy officer he is in those suggestions is a reserved honesty, and that for the young earl.—Beware of them, Diana ; I have not heard examin'd. their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and Dia. Alas, poor lady! all these engines of lust, are not the things they | 'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife go under: many a maid hath been seduced by Of a detesting lord. them; and the misery is, example, that so ter- Wid. A right good creature: wheresoe'er she rible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot is, for all that dissuade succession, but they are Her heart weighs sadly : this young maid might limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope,
do her I need not to advise you further ; but, I hope, A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd. your own grace will keep you where you are, Hel. How do you mean? though there were no further danger known, but May be, the amorous count solicits her the modesty which is so lost.
In the unlawful purpose. Dia. You shall not need to fear me.
Wid. He does, indeed ;
And brokes with all that can in such a suit Enter HELENA, in the dress of a pilgrim.
Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: Wid. I hope so.-Look, here comes a pil. But she is arm'd for him, and keeps her guard grim : I know she will lie at my house : thither In honestest defence. they send one another: I'll question her.God save you, pilgrim! Whither are you bound? Enter with drum and colours, a party of the FloHel. To Saint Jaques le grand.
rentine army, BERTRAM, and PAROLLES. Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you ? Mar. The gods forbid else! Wid. At the Saint Francis here, beside the Wid. So, now they come : port.
That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son ; Hel. Is this the way?
That, Escalus. Wid. Ay, marry, is it.-Hark you !
Hél. Which is the Frenchman ?
[A march afar off: Dia. He ; They come this way :-If you will tarry, holy That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow; pilgrim,
I would, he lov'd his wife: if he were honester, But till the troops come by,
He were much goodlier : Is't not a handsome I will conduct you where you shall be lodg’d; gentleman ? The rather, for, I think, I know your hostess Hel. I like him well. As ample as myself.
Dia. 'Tis pity, he is not honest :-Yond's Hel. Is it yourself?
that same knave, Wid. If you shall please so, pilgrim. That leads him to these places ; were I his lady, Hel
. I thank you, and will stay upon your I'd poison that vile rascal.
Hel. Which is he?
Par. Lose our drum ! well.
Mar. He's shrewdly vexed at something :
Look, he has spied us.
Mar. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier !
[Ereunt Bertram, Parolles, Officers,
Wid. The troop is past : Come, pilgrim, I will Dia. Whatsoe'er he is,
bring you He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents As 'tis reported, for the king had married him There's four or five, to great St Jaques bound, Against his liking: Think you it is so ? Already at my house.
Hel. I did so.
His face I know not.
Hel. I humbly thank you :
2 Lord. A pox on't, let it go ; 'tis but a drum. Please it this matron, and this gentle maid, Par. But à drum ! Is't but a drum? A drum To eat with us to-night, the charge, and thank- so lost !- There was an excellent command ! to ing,
charge in with our horse upon our own wings, Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, and to rend our own soldiers. I will bestow some precepts on this virgin, 2 Lord. That was not to be blamed in the Worthy the note.
command of the service; it was a disaster of war Both. We'll take your offer kindly. [Exeunt. that Cæsar himself could not have prevented,
if he had been there to command. SCENE VI.-Camp before Florence. Ber. Well, we cannot greatly condemn our
success : some dishonour we had in the loss of Enter BERTRAM, and the two French Lords.
that drum ; but it is not to be recovered. 1 Lord. Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let Par. It might have been recovered. him have his way.
Ber. It might, but it is not now. 2 Lord. If your lordship find him not a hild- Par. It is to be recovered : but that the merit ing, hold me no more in your respect.
of service is seldom attributed to the true and er. 1 Lord. On my life, my lord, a bubble. act performer, I would have that drum or ano
Ber. Do you think, I am so far deceived in ther, or hic jacet. him ?
Ber. Why, if you have a stomach to't, moni Lord. Believe it, my lord, in mine own di- sieur, if you think your mystery in stratagem can rect knowledge, without any malice, but to bring this instrument of honour again into his speak of him as my kinsman, he's a most native quarter, be magnanimous in the enternotable coward, an infinite and endless liar, prize, and go on; I will grace the attempt for a an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no worthy exploit: if you speed well in it, the duke one good quality worthy your lordship’s enter- shall both speak of it, and extend to you what tainment.
further becomes his greatness, even to the uticost 2 Lord. It were fit you knew him ; lest, re- syllable of your worthiness. posing too far in his virtue, which he hath not, Par. By the hand of a soldier, I will underhe might, at some great and trusty business, in take it. a main danger, fail you.
Ber. But you must not now slumber in it. Ber. I would, I knew in what particular ac- Par. I'll about it this evening : and I will pretion to try him.
sently pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself 2 Lord. None better than to let him fetch off in my certainty, put myself into my mortal prehis drum, which you hear him so confidently paration, and, by midnight, look to hear further undertake to do.
from me. 1 Lord. I, with a troop of Florentines, will Ber. May I be bold to acquaint his grace, you suddenly surprize him ; such I will have, whom, are gone about it? I am sure, he knows not from the enemy: we Pur. I know not what the success will be, my will bind and hood-wink him so, that he shall lord; but the attempt I vow. suppose no other but that he is carried into Ber. I know, thou art valiant; and, to the the leaguer of the adversaries, when we bring possibility of thy soldiership, will subscribe for him to our tents : Be but your lordship present thee. Farewell. at his examination ; if he do not, for the pro- Par. I love not many words. [Erit. mise of his life, and in the highest compulsion 1 Lord. No more than a fish loves water.-Is of base fear, offer to betray you, and deliver not this a strange fellow, my lord ? that so conall the intelligence in his power against you, fidently seems to undertake this business, which and that with the divine forfeit of his soul he knows is not to be done ; damns himself to upon oath, never trust my judgment in any do, and dares better be damned than to do't. thing
2 Lord. You do not know him, my lord, as 2 Lord. O, for the love of laughter, let him we do: certain it is, that he will steal himself fetch his drum ; he says, he has a stratagem into a man's favour, and, for a week, escape a for’t: when your lordship sees the bottom of his great deal of discoveries; but when you find him success in't, and to what metal this counterfeit out, you have him ever after. lump of ore will be melted, if you give him not Ber. Why, do you think, he will make no John Drum's entertainment, your inclining can- deed at all of this, that so seriously he does adnot be removed. Here he comes.
dress himself unto?
1 Lord. None in the world ; but return with Enter PAROLLES.
an invention, and clap upon you two or three i Lord. O, for the love of laughter, hinder not probable lies: but we have almost embossed him, the humour of his design ; let him fetch off his you shall see his fall to-night; for, indeed, he is drum in any hand.
not for your lordship’s respect. Ber. How now, monsieur ? this drum sticks 2 Lord. We'll make you some sport with the sorely in your disposition.
fox, ere we case him. He was first smoked by
the old lord Lafeu : when his disguise and he is for you have show'd me that, which well approves parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; You are great in fortune. which you shall see this very night.
Hel. Take this purse of gold, i Lord. I must go look my twigs ; he shall be And let me buy your friendly help thus far, caught.
Which I will over-pay, and pay again, Ber. Your brother, he shall go along with me.
When I have found it. The count he wooes your i Lord. As't please your lordship : I'll leave daughter, you.
[Exit. Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, Ber. Now will I lead you to the house, and Resolves to carry her ; let her, in fine, consent,
As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it, The lass I spoke of.
Now his important blood will nought deny, 2 Lord. But, you say, she's honest.
That she'll demand: A ring the county wears, Ber. That's all the fault: I spoke with her That downward hath succeeded in his house,
From son to son, some four or five descents, And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her, Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds By this same coxcomb that we have i'the wind, In most rich choice; yet, in his idle fire, Tokens and letters, which she did re-send ; To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, And this is all I have done: She's a fair creature; | Howe'er repented after. Will you go see her?
Wid. Now I see 2 Lord. With all my heart, my lord. [Exeunt. The bottom of your purpose.
Hel. You see it lawful then : It is no more, SCENE VII.-Florence. A room in the Widow's Desires this ring ; appoints him an encounter ;
But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, house.
In fine, delivers me to fill the time,
Herself most chastely absent : after this,
To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns Hel. If you misdoubt me that I am not she, To what is past already. I know not how I shall assure you further, Wid. I have yielded : But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. Instruct my daughter how she shall perséver, Wid. Though my estate be fallen, I was well That time and place, with this deceit so lawful, born,
May prove coherent. Every night he comes Nothing acquainted with these businesses ; With musics of all sorts, and songs compos'd And would not put my reputation now
To her unworthiness : It nothing steads us In any staining act.
To chide him from our eaves; for he persists, Hel. Nor would I wish you.
As if his life lay on't.
Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact:
But let's about it.
SCENE I.-Without the Florentine camp. 1 Lord. But what linsy-woolsy hast thou to
speak to us again? Enter first Lord, with five or six soldiers in 1 Sold. Even such as you speak to me. ambush.
1 Lord. He must think us some band of i Lord. He can come no other way but by strangers i'the adversary's entertainment. Now this hedge' corner : When you sally upon him, he hath a smack of all neighbouring languages; speak what terrible language you will ; though therefore we must every one be a man of his you understand it not yourselves, no matter : own fancy, not to know what we speak one to for we must not seem to understand him; un- another; so we seem to know, is to know less some one among us, whom we must produce straight our purpose : chough's language, gabfor an interpreter.
ble enough, and good enough. As for you, in1 Sold. Good captain, let me be the interpreter. terpreter, you must seem very politic. But,
1 Lord. Art not acquainted with him ? knows couch, ho! here he comes; to beguile two hours he not thy voice?
in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies 1 Sold. No, sir, I warrant you.
he forges. VOL. I.