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What she has done for me?
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.
Know'st thou not, Bertram,
Ber. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
King. "Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the
I can build up. Strange is it, that our bloods,
All that is virtuous, (save what thou dislik'st,
It is a dropsied honour: good alone
property by what it is should go,
And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn,
Than our fore-goers: the mere word's a slave,
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.
Hel. 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,
My love, and her desert; that canst not dream,
Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know,
We please to have it grow: Check thy contempt: Obey our will, which travails in thy good: Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right,
Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate,
My fancy to your eyes: When I consider,
Take her by the hand, And tell her, she is thine: to whom I promise A counterpoize; 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 contráct; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast Shall more attend upon the coming space, Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her, Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.
[Exeunt King, Bertram, Helena, Lords, and Attendants.
Laf. Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. Par. Your pleasure, sir?
Laf. Your lord and master did well to make his
Par. Recantation?— My lord? my master? Laf. Ay; Is it not a language, I speak? Par. A most harsh one; and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. My master?
Laf. Are you companion to the count Rousillon? Par. To any count; to all counts; to what is man. 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.
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 dissuade 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,
Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial; which if-Lord have mercy 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 in
Laf. Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.
Par. I have not, my lord, deserv'd it.
Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I 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. [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.
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,