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, 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. Re-enter LAFEU. Laf. 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 honour, 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 honourable personages than the commission of your birth and virtue gives you heraldy. You are not worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you. [Exit. 281 Par. Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good; let it be concealed awhile. Re-enter BERTRAM. Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! Par. What's 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. 290 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, That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, Which should sustain the bound and high curvet France is a stable; we that dwell in 't jades; Ber. It shall be so I'll send her to my house, 300 Par. Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure? 310 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. Paris. The KING's palace. 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 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. 10 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. 21 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 thou'rt a knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had been truth, sir. 31 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, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets, To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy And pleasure drown the brim. Hel. What's his will else? Par. That you will take your instant leave o' the king, And make this haste as your own good proceeding, Strengthen'd with what 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. Come, sirrah. I pray you. 40 50 [Exit Parolles. [Exeunt SCENE V. Paris. The KING's palace. Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM. Laf. But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. 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. [To Bertram] These things shall be done, sir. Par. Sir? Laf. O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good work man, a very good tailor. Ber. [Aside to Par.] Is she gone to the king? 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, End ere I do begin. 21 29 Laf. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lies three thirds and 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 's prayFare you well, my lord; and believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the soul of this man is ers. 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 to 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? Ber. Yes, I do know him well, and common speech Ges 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 procured his leave For present parting; only he desires Some private speech with you. Ber. I shall obey his will. On my particular. Prepared I was not So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you To you that know them not. This to my mother : "Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so I leave you to your wisdom. [Exit. 60 70 [Giving a letter. Hel. Hel. And ever shall With true observance seek to eke out that Ber. My haste is very great: farewell; hie home. Ber. Let that go: Well, what would you say? Hel. I am not worth of the wealth I owe, Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is; But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal 80 |