All's Well That Ends Well (Modern)

Countess 5In delivering my son from me, I bury a ¶second husband.

¶Bertram And I in going, madam, weep o'er my ¶father's death anew, but I must attend his ¶majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore 10in subjection.

¶Lafeu You shall find of the King a husband, madam; ¶you, sir, a father. He, that so generally is at all times good, ¶must of necessity hold his virtue to you, whose ¶worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather than lack 15it where there is such abundance.

¶Countess What hope is there of his majesty's amendment?

¶Lafeu He hath abandoned his physicians, madam, ¶under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope ¶and finds no other advantage in the process, but only 20the losing of hope by time.

¶Countess This young gentlewoman had a father -- oh, that ¶ "had", how sad a passage 'tis! -- whose skill was almost as ¶great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have ¶made nature immortal and death should have play for 25lack of work. Would for the King's sake he were li ¶ving! I think it would be the death of the King's disease.

¶Lafeu How called you the man you speak of, madam?

¶Countess He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was ¶his great right to be so: Gérard de Narbonne.

30Lafeu He was excellent indeed, madam. The King very ¶lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly. He ¶was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could ¶be set up against mortality.

¶Bertram What is it, my good lord, the King languishes 35of?

¶Lafeu A fistula, my lord.

¶Bertram I heard not of it before.

¶Lafeu I would it were not notorious. -- Was this gen ¶tlewoman the daughter of Gérard de Narbonne?

40Countess His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my ¶overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that her ¶education promises; her dispositions she inherits, which ¶makes fair gifts fairer. For where an unclean mind ¶carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with 45pity: they are virtues and traitors too. In her, they are ¶the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty ¶and achieves her goodness.

¶Lafeu Your commendations, madam, get from her ¶tears.

50Countess 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise ¶in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her ¶heart, but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood ¶from her cheek. -- No more of this, Helen, go to, no ¶more, lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than 55to have --

¶Helen I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too.

¶Lafeu Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; ¶excessive grief, the enemy to the living.

¶Countess If the living be enemy to the grief, the 60excess makes it soon mortal.

¶Bertram Madam, I desire your holy wishes.

¶Lafeu [To the Countess (?)]How understand we that?

-- Farewell, Bertram.

¶Bertram [To Helen] The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts ¶be servants to you. Be comfortable to my mother, your 80mistress, and make much of her.

¶Lafeu Farewell, pretty lady. You must hold the ¶credit of your father.

¶Paroles Save you, fair queen.

¶Helen And you, monarch.

¶Paroles No.

¶Helen And no.

115Paroles Are you meditating on virginity?

¶Helen Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you. Let ¶me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity. ¶How may we barricado it against him?

¶Paroles Keep him out.

120Helen But he assails and our virginity, though ¶valiant, in the defence yet is weak. Unfold to us some warlike ¶resistance.

¶Paroles There is none. Man, setting down before you, ¶will undermine you and blow you up.

125Helen Bless our poor virginity from underminers ¶and blowers up! Is there no military policy how ¶virgins might blow up men?

¶Paroles Virginity being blown down, man will ¶quicklier be blown up. Marry, in blowing him down 130again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your ¶city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of ¶nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is ¶rational increase, and there was never virgin got till ¶virginity was first lost. That you were made of is 135metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, ¶may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever ¶lost. 'Tis too cold a companion. Away with't!

¶Helen I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die ¶a virgin.

140Paroles There's little can be said in't; 'tis against the ¶rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity is ¶to accuse your mothers, which is most infallible ¶disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: ¶virginity murders itself, and should be buried in highways, 145out of all sanctified limit as a desperate offendress ¶against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a ¶cheese, consumes itself to the very paring, and so ¶dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, ¶virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which 150is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not, ¶you cannot choose but lose by't. Out with't! Within ¶ten year it will make itself two, which is a goodly ¶increase, and the principal itself not much the ¶worse. Away with't!

155Helen How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own ¶liking?

¶Paroles Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er ¶it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying. ¶The longer kept, the less worth. Off with't while 'tis 160vendible. Answer the time of request. Virginity, ¶like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion, richly ¶suited, but unsuitable, just like the brooch and the ¶toothpick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your ¶pie and your porridge than in your cheek, and your 165virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French ¶withered pears. It looks ill, it eats dryly -- marry, 'tis a ¶withered pear. It was formerly better, marry, yet 'tis a ¶withered pear! Will you anything with it?

¶Helen Not my virginity yet.

¶Paroles What one, i'faith?

¶Helen That I wish well. 'Tis pity --

¶Paroles What's pity?

¶Page Monsieur Paroles, ¶my lord calls for you.

¶Paroles Little Helen, farewell. If I can remember thee, I 195will think of thee at court.

¶Helen Monsieur Paroles, you were born under a ¶charitable star.

¶Paroles Under Mars, I.

¶Helen I especially think under Mars.

200Paroles Why 'under' Mars?

¶Helen The wars hath so kept you under that you must needs be born under Mars.

¶Paroles When he was predominant.

¶Helen When he was retrograde, I think rather.

205Paroles Why think you so?

¶Helen You go so much backward when you fight.

¶Paroles That's for advantage.

¶Helen So is running away ¶when fear proposes the safety. 210But the composition that your valor and fear makes ¶in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the ¶wear well.

¶Paroles I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer ¶thee acutely. I will return perfect courtier, in the 215which my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so ¶thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel and ¶understand what advice shall thrust upon thee, else thou ¶diest in thine unthankfulnes and thine ignorance makes ¶thee away. Farewell. When thou hast leisure, say thy 220prayers: when thou hast none, remember thy friends. ¶Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee. ¶So, farewell.

¶Countess I will now hear: what say you of this 330gentlewoman?

¶Steward Madam, the care I have had to even your ¶conttent, I wish might be found in the calendar of my past ¶endeavors, for then we wound our modesty and make ¶foul the clearness of our deservings when of ourselves 335we publish them.

¶Countess What does this knave here? -- [To Clown] Get you gone, ¶sirrah. The complaints I have heard of you I do not all ¶believe. 'Tis my slowness that I do not, for I know you ¶lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough 340to make such knaveries yours.

¶Clown 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor ¶fellow.

¶Countess Well, sir?

¶Clown No, madam, 345'tis not so well that I am poor, though many ¶of the rich are damned, but if I may have your ladyship's ¶good will to go to the world, Isbel the woman and I ¶will do as we may.

¶Countess Wilt thou needs be a beggar?

350Clown I do beg your good will in this case.

¶Countess In what case?

¶Clown In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no ¶heritage, and I think I shall never have the blessing of God ¶till I have issue o'my body, for they say bairns are 355blessings.

¶Countess Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry?

¶Clown My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven ¶on by the flesh, and he must needs go that the devil ¶drives.

360Countess Is this all your worship's reason?

¶Clown Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as ¶they are.

¶Countess May the world know them?

¶Clown I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you 365and all flesh and blood are, and indeed I do marry that ¶I may repent.

¶Countess Thy marriage sooner than thy wickedness.

¶Clown I am out o'friends, madam, and I hope to have ¶friends for my wife's sake.

370Countess Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

¶Clown You're shallow, madam, in great friends, for the ¶knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. ¶He that ears my land spares my team, and gives me ¶leave to in the crop. If I be his cuckold he's my 375drudge. He that comforts my wife is the cherisher of ¶my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh and ¶blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh ¶and blood is my friend. Ergo, he that kisses my wife is my ¶friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, 380there were no fear in marriage, for young Charbon the ¶puritan, and old Poisson the papist, howsome'er their ¶hearts are severed in religion, their heads are both one. ¶They may jowl horns together like any deer i'th' herd.

¶Countess Wilt thou ever be a foulmouthed and 385calumnious knave?

¶Clown A prophet, I, madam, and I speak the truth the ¶next way:

390Countess Get you gone, sir. I'll talk with you more anon.

¶Steward May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen ¶come to you? Of her I am to speak.

¶Countess [To Clown] Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with ¶her, Helen I mean.

395Clown Sings.

"Was this fair face the cause," quoth she,

¶Countess What? One good in ten? You corrupt the song, ¶sirrah.

¶Clown One good woman in ten, madam, which is a 405purifying o'th'song. Would God would serve the world so ¶all the year! We'd find no fault with the tithe-woman, ¶if I were the parson. One in ten, quotha? And we might ¶have a good woman born but o'er every blazing star ¶or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well! A 410man may draw his heart out ere a pluck one.

¶Countess You'll begone, sir knave, and do as I ¶commandyou!

¶Clown That man should be at woman's command, and ¶yet no hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet 415it will do no hurt: it will wear the surplice of humility ¶over the black gown of a big heart. I am ¶going, forsooth! The business is for Helen to come hither.

¶Countess Well, now.

420Steward I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman ¶entirely.

¶Countess Faith, I do. Her father bequeathed her to me, ¶and she herself, without other advantage, may ¶lawfully make title to as much love as she finds. There is 425more owing her than is paid, and more shall be paid ¶her than she'll demand.

¶Steward Madam, I was very late more near her ¶thanI think she wished me. Alone she was, and did ¶communicate to herself her own words to her 430own ears. She thought, I dare vow for her, they ¶touched not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she ¶loved your son. Fortune, she said, was no ¶goddess, that had put such difference betwixt their two ¶estates; love no god, that would not extend his might 435only where qualities were level; Dian no queen of ¶virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surprised ¶without rescue in the first assault or ransom ¶afterward: This she delivered in the most bitter touch of ¶sorrow that e'erI heard virgin exclaim in, which I held 440my duty speedily to acquaint you withal, sithence in ¶the loss that may happen, it concerns you something ¶to know it.

¶Countess You have discharged this honestly. Keep it ¶to yourself. Many likelihoods informed me of this 445before, which hung so tottering in the balance, that ¶I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, ¶leave me. Stall this in your bosom, and I thank ¶you for your honest care. I will speak with you ¶further anon.

640Paroles [To the departing Lords] Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. ¶Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals. You ¶shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain ¶Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on ¶his sinister cheek. It was this very sword entrenched it. [He indicates his weapon.] 645Say to him I live, and observe his reports for me.

¶1 Lord We shall, noble captain.

¶Paroles Mars dote on you for his novices! [Exeunt 1 Lord and 2 Lord.]

[To Bertram]--What will ¶ye do?

¶Bertram Stay the king.

650Paroles Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble ¶lords: you have restrained yourself within the list of ¶too cold an adieu. Be more expressive to them, for they ¶wear themselves in the cap of the time; there do muster ¶true gait; eat, speak, and move under the influence of 655the most received star; and, though the devil lead the ¶measure, such are to be followed. After them, and take a ¶more dilated farewell.

¶Bertram And I will do so.

¶Paroles Worthy fellows, and like to prove most 660sinewy swordsmen.

¶Lafeu [Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.

¶King I'll fee thee to stand up.

825Countess Come on, sir, I shall now put you to the height ¶of your breeding.

¶Clown I will show myself highly fed and lowly ¶taught. I know my business is but to the court.

¶Countess To the court? Why, what place make you 830special, when you put off that with such contempt? 'But to ¶the court'!

¶Clown Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any ¶manners, he may easily put it off at court. He that cannot ¶make a leg, put off 's cap, kiss his hand, and say 835nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and ¶indeed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the ¶court. But, for me, I have an answer will serve all men.

¶Countess Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all ¶questions.

840Clown It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks: ¶the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the ¶brawn-buttock, or any buttock.

¶Countess Will your answer serve fit to all questions?

¶Clown As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an 845attorney, as your French crown for your taffety punk, as ¶Tib's rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove ¶Tuesday, a Morris for May Day, as the nail to his hole, ¶the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding quean to a ¶wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's mouth; 850nay, as the pudding to his skin.

¶Countess Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for ¶all questions?

¶Clown From below your duke to beneath your ¶constable, it will fit any question.

855Countess It must be an answer of most monstrous size ¶that must fit all demands.

¶Clown But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned ¶should speak truth of it. Here it is, and all that belongs ¶to't. Ask me if I am a courtier; it shall do you no 860harm to learn.

¶Countess To be young again, if we could! I will be a ¶fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your ¶answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier?

865Clown Oh Lord, sir! -- There's a simple putting off. More, ¶more, a hundred of them.

¶Countess Sir, I am a poor friend of yours that loves you.

¶Clown Oh Lord, sir! -- Thick, thick, spare not me.

¶Countess I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely 870meat.

¶Clown Oh Lord, sir! -- Nay, put me to't, I warrant you.

¶Countess You were lately whipped, sir, as I think.

¶Clown Oh Lord, sir! -- Spare not me.

¶Countess Do you cry 'Oh Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and 875'Spare not me'? Indeed your 'Oh Lord, sir!' is very sequent ¶to your whipping; you would answer very well to a ¶whipping, if you were but bound to't.

¶Clown I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'Oh Lord, ¶sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever.

880Countess I play the noble housewife with the time, to ¶entertain it so merrily with a fool.

¶Clown Oh Lord, sir! -- Why there't serves well again.

¶Lafeu They say miracles are past, and we have our ¶philosophical persons to make modern and familiar 895things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we ¶make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into ¶seeming knowledge when we should submit ourselves to ¶an unknown fear.

¶Paroles Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that 900hath shot out in our latter times.

¶Bertram And so 'tis.

¶Lafeu To be relinquished of the artists --

¶Paroles So I say, both of Galen and Paracelsus.

¶Lafeu Of all the learned and authentic fellows --

905Paroles Right, so I say.

¶Lafeu That gave him out incurable --

¶Paroles Why, there 'tis; so say I too.

¶Lafeu Not to be helped.

¶Paroles Right, as 'twere a man assured of a --

910Lafeu Uncertain life, and sure death.

¶Paroles Just. You say well; so would I have said.

¶Lafeu I may truly say it is a novelty to the world.

¶Paroles It is indeed. If you will have it in showing, you ¶shall read it in what-do-ye-call there.

915Lafeu A Showing of a Heavenly Effect in an ¶Earthly Actor.

¶Paroles That's it; I would have said the very same.

¶Lafeu Why, your dolphin is not lustier. 'Fore me, ¶I speak in respect --

920Paroles Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange; that is the ¶brief and the tedious of it. And he's of a most ¶facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the --

¶Lafeu Very hand of heaven.

¶Paroles Ay, so I say.

925Lafeu In a most weak --

¶Paroles And debile minister, great power, great ¶transcendence, which should indeed give us a further use to ¶be made than alone the recovery of the king, as to be --

¶Lafeu Generally thankful.

¶Paroles I would have said it; you say well. -- Here comes ¶the king.

¶Lafeu Lustig, as the Dutchman says! I'll like a ¶maid the better whilst I have a tooth in my head. Why, 935he's able to lead her a coranto.

¶Paroles Mort du vinaigre! Is not this Helen?

¶Lafeu 'Fore God, I think so.

975Lafeu I had rather be in this choice than throw ¶ames-ace for my life.

¶Lafeu Do all they deny her? An they were sons 985of mine, I'd have them whipped, or I would send them ¶to th' Turk to make eunuchs of.

¶Lafeu These boys are boys of ice, they'll none ¶have her. Sure they are bastards to the English: the ¶French ne'er got 'em.

¶4 Young Lord Fair one, I think not so.

¶Lafeu There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father ¶drunk wine. But if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth ¶of fourteen: I have known thee already.

¶Lafeu Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.

¶Paroles Your pleasure, sir.

¶Lafeu Your lord and master did well to make his ¶recantation.

1095Paroles Recantation? My lord? My master?

¶Lafeu Ay; is it not a language I speak?

¶Paroles A most harsh one, and not to be understood ¶without bloody succeeding. My master?

¶Lafeu Are you companion to the Count Roussillon?

1100Paroles To any count, to all counts: to what is man.

¶Lafeu To what is count's man. Count's master is of ¶another style.

¶Paroles You are too old, sir. Let it satisfy you, you are ¶too old.

1105Lafeu I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man -- to which ¶title age cannot bring thee.

¶Paroles What I dare too well do, I dare not do.

¶Lafeu I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a ¶pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of 1110thy 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'rt 1115scarce worth.

¶Paroles Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity ¶upon thee --

¶Lafeu Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest ¶thou hasten thy trial; which if -- Lord have mercy on 1120thee 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.

¶Paroles My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.

¶Lafeu Ay, with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.

1125Paroles I have not, my lord, deserved it.

¶Lafeu Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it, and I will ¶not bate thee a scruple.

¶Paroles Well, I shall be wiser.

¶Lafeu Ev'n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull 1130at a smack o' th' contrary. If ever thou be'st bound ¶in thy scarf and beaten, thou shall 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.'

1135Paroles My lord, you do me most insupportable ¶vexation.

¶Lafeu 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.

1140Paroles 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 1145no more pity of his age than I would have of -- I'll ¶beat him, an if I could but meet him again.

¶Lafeu Sirrah, your lord and master's married. There's ¶news for you. You have a new mistress.

1150Paroles I most unfainedly beseech your lordship to ¶make some reservation of your wrongs. He is my good ¶lord; whom I serve above is my master.

¶Lafeu Who? God.

¶Paroles Ay, sir.

1155Lafeu The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost ¶thou garter up thy arms a' 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 honor, ¶if I were but two hours younger I'd beat thee. 1160Methink'st thou art a general offence, and every man should ¶beat thee. I think thou wast created for men to breathe ¶themselves upon thee.

¶Paroles This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.

¶Lafeu Go to, sir. You were beaten in Italy for picking 1165a kernel out of a pomegranate. You are a vagabond and ¶no true traveler. You are more saucy with lords and ¶honorable personages than the commission of your ¶birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth ¶another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.

¶Paroles Good, very good, it is so then. Good, very ¶good, let it be concealed awhile.

1175Paroles What's the matter, sweetheart?

¶Clown 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'th'world. But ¶yet she is not well.

1215Helen If she be very well, what does she ail that she's ¶not very well?

¶Clown Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things.

¶Helen What two things?

¶Clown One, that she's not in heaven -- whither God send 1220 her quickly; the other, that she's in earth -- from whence ¶ God send her quickly.

¶Paroles Bless you, my fortunate lady.

¶Helen I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine 1225own good fortune.

¶Paroles You had my prayers to lead them on, and to ¶keep them on, have them still. -- O my knave, how does ¶my old lady?

¶Clown So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, 1230I would she did as you say.

¶Paroles Why, I say nothing.

¶Clown 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, 1235is to be a great part of your title, which is within a very ¶little of nothing.

¶Paroles Away, thou'rt a knave.

¶Clown You should have said, sir, 'Before a knave, th'art a ¶knave' -- that's 'before me th'art a knave.' This had been 1240truth, sir.

¶Paroles Go to, thou art a witty fool. I have found ¶thee.

¶Clown Did you find me in yourself, sir, or were you ¶taught to find me?

1245Clown The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool ¶may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure and the ¶increase of laughter.

1270Lafeu But I hope your lordship thinks not him a ¶soldier.

¶Bertram Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.

¶Lafeu You have it from his own deliverance.

¶Bertram And by other warranted testimony.

1275Lafeu Then my dial goes not true; I took this lark ¶for a bunting.

¶Bertram I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in ¶knowledge, and accordingly valiant.

¶Lafeu I have then sinned against his experience and 1280transgressed against his valor, 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.

1285Paroles [To Bertram] These things shall be done, sir.

¶Lafeu [To Bertram] Pray you, sir, who's his tailor?

¶Paroles Sir!

¶Lafeu Oh, I know him well, ay, "Sir." He, sir, 's a good ¶workman, a very good tailor.

1290Bertram [Aside to Paroles] Is she gone to the king?

¶Paroles She is.

¶Bertram Will she away tonight?

¶Paroles As you'll have her.

¶Lafeu A good traveler is something at the latter end ¶of a dinner, but one that lies three-thirds and uses a 1300known truth to pass a thousand nothings with should ¶be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, ¶captain.

¶Bertram [To Paroles] Is there any unkindness between my lord and ¶you, monsieur?

1305Paroles I know not how I have deserved to run into my ¶lord's displeasure.

¶Lafeu You have made shift to run into't, boots and ¶spurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard; and ¶out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer question 1310for your residence.

¶Bertram It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.

¶Lafeu And shall do so ever, though I took him at's ¶prayers. Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of ¶me: there can be no kernel in this light nut. The soul 1315of this man is his clothes; trust him not in matter of ¶heavy consequence. I have kept of them tame and know ¶their natures. -- [To Paroles] 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.

[Exit Lafeu.]

1320Paroles An idle lord, I swear.

¶Bertram I think so.

¶Paroles Why, do you not know him?

¶Countess It hath happened all as I would have had it, save ¶that he comes not along with her.

¶Clown By my troth I take my young lord to be a 1405very melancholy man.

¶Countess By what observance, I pray you?

¶Clown Why, he will look upon his boot and sing, ¶mend the ruff and sing, ask questions and sing, pick ¶his teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of 1410melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a song.

¶Countess Let me see what he writes and when he means ¶to come.

¶Clown I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. ¶Our old lings and our Isbels o'th' country are nothing 1415like your old ling and your Isbels o'th' court. The brains ¶of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to love, as an ¶old man loves money, with no stomach.

¶Countess What have we here?

¶Clown E'en that you have there.

1420Countess:

¶Clown Oh, madam, yonder is heavy news within 1435between two soldiers and my young lady.

¶Countess What is the matter?

¶Clown Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some ¶comfort. Your son will not be killed so soon as I thought ¶he would.

1440Countess Why should he be killed?

¶Clown So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he ¶does. The danger is in standing to't: that's the loss of ¶men, though it be the getting of children. Here they ¶come will tell you more. For my part I only hear your 1445son was run away.

¶2 Gentleman Save you, good madam.

¶Helen Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone.

¶1 Gentleman Do not say so.

1460

When thou canst get the ring upon my finger, which ¶never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body ¶that I am father to, then call me husband, but in such a ¶"then" I write a "never."

¶This is a dreadful sentence.

1465Countess Brought you this letter, gentlemen?

¶1 Gentleman Ay, madam, and for the contents' sake are sorry ¶for our pains.

¶2 Gentleman 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which 1485his heart was not consenting to.

¶2 Gentleman A servant only, and a gentleman which I ¶have sometime known.

¶2 Gentleman Indeed, good lady, the fellow has a deal of ¶that, too much, which holds him much to have.

¶Widow Nay, come, ¶for if they do approach the city, ¶we shall lose all the sight.

¶Diana They say the French count has done 1610most honorable service.

¶Widow It is reported ¶that he has taken their great'st commander, ¶and that with his own hand he slew ¶the Duke's brother. [Another tucket.] We have lost our 1615labor;they are gone a contrary way. Hark, ¶you may know by their trumpets.

¶Mariana Come, let's return again, ¶and suffice ourselves with the report of it. ¶-- Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl: 1620the honor of a maid is her name, ¶and no legacy is so rich ¶as honesty.

¶Widow I have told my neighbor ¶how you have been solicited by a gentleman, 1625his companion.

¶Mariana I know that knave, hang him, one Paroles! ¶A filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young ¶earl. Beware of them, Diana. Their promises, ¶enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust are 1630not the things they go under. Many a maid hath been ¶seduced by them, and the misery is example that so ¶terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood cannot, ¶for all that, dissuade succession, but that they are limed ¶with the twigs that threatens them. I hope I need 1635not to advise you further, but I hope your own grace ¶will keep you where you are, though there were no ¶further danger known but the modesty which is so ¶lost.

¶Diana You shall not need to fear me.

¶Widow I hope so. Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know ¶she will lie at my house; thither they send one another. ¶I'll question her. -- God save you, pilgrim. Whither are ¶bound?

1645Helen To St. Jaques le grand.

¶Diana That jackanapes with scarfs. Why is he ¶melancholy?

¶Helen Perchance he's hurt i'th' battle.

¶Paroles Lose our drum? Well.

1715Mariana He's shrewdly vexed at something. Look, he ¶has spied us.

¶Widow Marry, hang you!

¶Mariana And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier.

¶2 Lord Nay, good my lord, put him to 't. Let him ¶have his way.

¶1 Lord If your lordship find him not a [A4]hilding, 1735hold me no more in your respect.

¶2 Lord On my life, my lord, a bubble.

¶Bertram Do you think I am so far ¶deceived in him?

¶2 Lord Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct 1740knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him ¶as my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an ¶infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the ¶owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's ¶entertainment.

17451 Lord It were fit you knew him, lest reposing too ¶far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some ¶great and trusty business in a main danger fail ¶you.

¶Bertram I would I knew in what particular action to try 1750him.

¶1 Lord None better than to let him fetch off his ¶drum, which you hear him so confidently ¶undertake to do.

¶2 Lord I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly 1755surprize him. Such I will have whom I am sure he knows ¶not from the enemy. We will bind and hoodwink ¶him so that he shall suppose no other but that he is ¶carried into the leaguer of the adversaries when we bring ¶him to our own tents. Be but your lordship present 1760at his examination. If he do not, for the promise of his ¶life and in the highest compulsion of base fear, offer to ¶betray you and deliver all the intelligence in his power ¶against you, and that with the divine forfeit of his ¶soul upon oath, never trust my judgment in 1765anything.

¶1 Lord Oh, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his ¶drum! He says he has a stratagem for 't. When your ¶lordship sees the bottom of this success in 't, and to ¶what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be 1770melted if you give him not John Drum's entertainment, ¶your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes.

¶2 Lord [Aside to Bertram] Oh, for the love of laughter, hinder not the ¶honor of his design! -- [Aloud] Let him fetch off his drum in any 1775hand.

¶Bertram How now, monsieur? This drum sticks ¶sorely in your disposition.

¶1 Lord A pox on 't, let it go! 'Tis but a drum.

¶Paroles But a drum! Is't but a drum? A drum so 1780lost? There was excellent command, to charge in with ¶our horse upon our own wings and to rend our own ¶soldiers.

¶1 Lord That was not to be blamed in the command ¶of the service. It was a disaster of war that Caesar 1785himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to ¶command.

¶Bertram Well, we cannot greatly condemn our ¶success. Some dishonor we had in the loss of that drum, ¶but it is not to be recovered.

1790Paroles It might have been recovered.

¶Bertram It might, but it is not now.

¶Paroles It is to be recovered. But that the merit of ¶service is seldom attributed to the true and exact ¶performer, I would have that drum or another, or hic 1795iacet.

¶Bertram Why, if you have a stomach, to 't, monsieur. If ¶you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this ¶instrument of honor again into his native quarter, be ¶magnanimous in the enterprise and go on. I will grace 1800the attempt for a worthy exploit. If you speed well in ¶it, the duke shall both speak of it and extend to you ¶what further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost ¶syllable of your worthiness.

¶Paroles By the hand of a soldier I will undertake it.

1805Bertram But you must not now slumber in it.

¶Paroles I'll about it this evening, and I will presently ¶pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my ¶certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation ¶-and by midnight look to hear further from me.

1810Bertram May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are ¶gone about it?

¶Paroles I know not what the success will be, my lord, ¶but the attempt I vow.

¶Bertram I know th'art valiant, 1815and to the possibility of thy soldiership, ¶will subscribe for thee. Farewell.

¶Paroles I love not many words.

¶2 Lord No more than a fish loves water. Is not this ¶a strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems to 1820undertake this business, which he knows is not to be ¶done, damns himself to do, and dares better be damned ¶than to do 't?

¶1 Lord You do not know him, my lord, as we do. ¶ Certain it is that he will steal himself into a man's 1825favor, and for a week escape a great deal of ¶discoveries, but when you find him out, you have him ever ¶after.

¶Bertram Why, do you think he will make no deed at ¶all of this that so seriously he does address himself 1830unto?

¶2 Lord None in the world, but return with an ¶invention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies. ¶But we have almost embossed him. You shall see his fall ¶tonight, for indeed he is not for your lordship's 1835respect.

¶1 Lord We'll make you some sport with the fox ¶ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old Lord ¶Lafeu. When his disguise and he is parted, tell me what ¶a sprat you shall find him, which you shall see this 1840very night.

¶2 Lord I must go look my twigs. ¶He shall be caught.

¶Bertram [To 1 Lord] Your brother he shall go along with me.

¶2 Lord As 't please your lordship. I'll leave you.

¶2 Lord He can come no other way but by this ¶hedgecorner. When you sally upon him, speak what terrible 1915language you will; though you understand it not your ¶selves, no matter, for we must not seem to understand ¶him, unless someone among us, whom we must ¶produce for an interpreter.

¶1 Soldier Good captain, let me be th'interpreter.

19202 Lord Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not ¶thy voice?

¶1 Soldier No sir, I warrant you.

¶2 Lord But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us ¶again?

19251 Soldier E'en such as you speak to me.

¶2 Lord He must think us some band of strangers, ¶i'th'adversary's entertainment. Now, he hath a smack of all ¶neighboring languages; therefore, we must every one ¶be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we speak 1930one to another; so we seem to know is to know straight ¶our purpose: choughs' language, gabble enough, and ¶good enough. -- [To Soldier 1] As for you, interpreter, you must seem ¶very politic. -- [To all] But couch, ho! Here he comes, to ¶beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear 1935the lies he forges.

¶Paroles [Call or horn marking the hour] Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill ¶be time enough to go home. What shall I say I have ¶done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries 1940it: they begin to smoke me, and disgraces have of ¶late knocked too often at my door. I find my tongue ¶is too foolhardy, but my heart hath the fear of Mars ¶before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of ¶my tongue.

19452 Lord [Aside] This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue ¶was guilty of.

¶Paroles What the devil should move me to undertake ¶the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the ¶impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I 1950must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in ¶exploit. Yet slight ones will not carry it: they will say, ¶ "Came you off with so little?" And great ones I dare not ¶give. Wherefore what's the instance? Tongue, I must put ¶you into a butter-woman's mouth and buy myself 1955another of Bajazeth's mute if you prattle me into these ¶perils.

¶2 Lord [Aside] Is it possible he should know what he is, and ¶be that he is?

¶Paroles I would the cutting of my garments would serve 1960the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword.

¶2 Lord [Aside] We cannot afford you so.

¶Paroles Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in ¶stratagem.

¶2 Lord [Aside] 'Twould not do.

1965Paroles Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped.

¶2 Lord [Aside] Hardly serve.

¶Paroles Though I swore I leapt from the window of the ¶citadel --

¶2 Lord [Aside] How deep?

1970Paroles Thirty fathom.

¶2 Lord [Aside] Three great oaths would scarce make that ¶be believed.

¶Paroles I would I had any drum of the enemy's; I ¶would swear I recovered it.

19752 Lord [Aside] You shall hear one anon.

¶Paroles A drum now of the enemy's --

¶2 Lord Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.

¶Soldiers Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.

¶1 Soldier Boskos thromuldo boskos.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter": Boskos vauvado. I understand thee, and can speak ¶thy tongue. Kerelybonto. Sir, betake thee to thy faith, for 1990seventeen poiniards are at thy bosom.

¶Paroles Oh!

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Oh, pray, pray, pray! ¶Manka reuania dulche.

¶2 Lord Oscorbidulchos voliuorco.

¶1 Lord You have not given him his mother's letter?

¶2 Lord I have delivered it an hour since. There is 2110something in't that stings his nature, for on the reading it ¶he changed almost into another man.

¶1 Lord He has much worthy blame laid upon him ¶for shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady.

¶2 Lord Especially he hath incurred the everlasting 2115displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his bounty ¶to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but ¶you shall let it dwell darkly with you.

¶1 Lord When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am ¶the grave of it.

21202 Lord He hath perverted a young gentlewoman ¶here in Florence, of a most chaste renown, and this night ¶he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honor. He hath ¶given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself ¶made in the unchaste composition.

21251 Lord Now God delay our rebellion! As we are ¶ourselves, what things are we?

¶2 Lord Merely our own traitors. And, as in the ¶common course of all treasons, we still see them reveal ¶themselves till they attain to their abhorred ends, so 2130he that in this action contrives against his own ¶nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself.

¶1 Lord Is it not meant damnable in us to be ¶trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have ¶his company tonight?

21352 Lord Not till after midnight, for he is dieted to ¶his hour.

¶1 Lord That approaches apace. I would gladly have ¶him see his company anatomized, that he might take ¶a measure of his own judgments, wherein so curiously 2140he had set this counterfeit.

¶2 Lord We will not meddle with him till he come, ¶for his presence must be the whip of the other.

¶1 Lord In the meantime, what hear you of these ¶wars?

21452 Lord I hear there is an overture of peace.

¶1 Lord Nay, I assure you a peace concluded.

¶2 Lord What will Count Roussillon do then? Will ¶he travel higher, or return again into France?

¶1 Lord I perceive by this demand, you are not 2150altogether of his counsel.

¶2 Lord Let it be forbid, sir. So should I be a great ¶deal of his act.

¶1 Lord Sir, his wife some two months since fled ¶from his house. Her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint 2155Jacques le Grand, which holy undertaking, with most ¶austere sanctimony, she accomplished; and there residing, ¶the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her ¶grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now ¶she sings in heaven.

21602 Lord How is this justified?

¶1 Lord The stronger part of it by her own letters, ¶which makes her story true, even to the point of her ¶death. Her death itself, which could not be her office ¶to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by the rector 2165of the place.

¶2 Lord Hath the count all this intelligence?

¶1 Lord Ay, and the particular confirmations, ¶point from point, to the full arming of the verity.

¶2 Lord I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of 2170this.

¶1 Lord How mightily sometimes we make us ¶comforts of our losses.

¶2 Lord And how mightily some other times we ¶drown our gain in tears. The great dignity that his 2175valor hath here acquired for him shall at home be ¶encountered with a shame as ample.

¶1 Lord The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, ¶good and ill together. Our virtues would be proud if ¶our faults whipped them not, and our crimes would 2180despair if they were not cherished by our virtues. ¶Enter a Messenger ¶How now? Where's your master?

¶Messenger: He met the duke in the street sir, of whom he ¶hath taken a solemn leave. His lordship will next 2185morning for France. The duke hath offered him ¶letters of commendations to the king.

¶2 Lord They shall be no more than needful there, ¶if they were more than they can commend.

21901 Lord: They cannot be too sweet for the king's ¶tartness. Here's his lordship now. --How now, my lord, ¶is't not after midnight?

¶Bertram I have tonight dispatched sixteen businesses, a ¶month's length apiece. By an abstract of success: I 2195have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his ¶nearest, buried a wife, mourned for her, writ to my ¶lady mother I am returning, entertained my convoy, and, ¶between these main parcels of dispatch, affected ¶many nicer needs. The last was the greatest, but that I have 2200not ended yet.

¶2 Lord If the business be of any difficulty, and this ¶morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your ¶lordship.

¶Bertram I mean the business is not ended, as fearing 2205to hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue ¶between the fool and the soldier? Come, bring ¶forth this counterfeit module; he's deceived me like a ¶double-meaning prophesier.

¶2 Lord [To soldiers] Bring him forth. [Exeunt some soldiers.] He's sat i'th'stocks all night, 2210poor gallant knave.

¶Bertram No matter: his heels have deserved it in ¶usurping his spurs so long. How does he carry himself?

¶2 Lord I have told your lordship already: the ¶stocks carry him. But to answer you as you would be 2215understood, he weeps like a wench that had shed her ¶milk. He hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he ¶supposes to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance ¶to this very instant disaster of his setting i'th'stocks. ¶And what think you he hath confessed?

2220Bertram Nothing of me, has'a?

¶2 Lord His confession is taken, and it shall be read ¶to his face; if your lordship be in't, as I believe you ¶are, you must have the patience to hear it.

2225Bertram [Aside] A plague upon him! Muffled! He can say nothing ¶of me. -- Hush, hush!

¶1 Lord [Aside to the others] Hoodman comes. [Aloud] Portotartarossa.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" [To Paroles] He calls for the tortures. What will you say ¶without 'em?

2230Paroles I will confess what I know without constraint. ¶If ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Bosko Chimurcho.

¶1 Lord Boblibindo chicurmurco.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" You are a merciful general. -- Our general 2235bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.

¶Paroles And truly, as I hope to live.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" [Pretends to read] "First, demand of him how many horse the duke ¶is strong." What say you to that?

¶Paroles Five or six thousand, but very weak and 2240unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and the ¶commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and ¶credit, and as I hope to live.

¶ 1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Shall I set down your answer so?

¶Paroles Do; I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which 2245way you will.

¶Bertram [Aside to the Lords] All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this!

¶1 Lord [Aside to Bertram and 2 Lord] You're deceived, my lord, this is Monsieur ¶Paroles, the gallant militarist -- that was his own phrase -- ¶that had the whole theoric of war in the knot of his 2250scarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger.

¶2 Lord [Aside to Bertram and 1 Lord] I will never trust a man again for keeping ¶his sword clean, nor believe he can have everything ¶in him by wearing his apparel neatly.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Well, that's set down.

2255Paroles 'Five or six thousand horse,' I said -- I will say true -- ¶'or thereabouts,' set down, for I'll speak truth.

¶1 Lord [Aside to Bertram and 2 Lord] He's very near the truth in this.

¶Bertram [Aside to the Lords] But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he ¶delivers it.

2260Paroles "Poor rogues," I pray you say.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Well, that's set down.

¶Paroles I humbly thank you, sir. A truth's a truth: the ¶rogues are marvelous poor.

¶1 Soldier OR 'Interpreter'" [Pretends to read] "Demand of him of what strength they are 2265afoot." What say you to that?

¶Paroles By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present ¶hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a hundred and ¶fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so many; Jaques, so ¶many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick and Gratii, two 2270hundred fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher, ¶Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred fifty each. So that the muster ¶file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to ¶fifteen thousand poll, half of the which dare not shake ¶the snow from off their cassocks least they shake 2275themselves to pieces.

¶Bertram What shall be done to him?

¶1 Lord Nothing but let him have thanks. -- [To 1 Soldier] Demand ¶of him my condition, and what credit I have with the ¶duke.

22801 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Well, that's set down. [Pretends to read] 'You shall demand of ¶him whether one Captain Dumaine be i'th'camp, a ¶Frenchman, what his reputation is with the duke, what ¶his valor, honesty, and expertness in wars, or ¶whether he thinks it were not possible with well-weighing 2285sums of gold to corrupt him to a revolt.' What say you ¶to this? What do you know of it?

¶Paroles I beseech you let me answer to the particular of ¶the inter'gatories. Demand them singly.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Do you know this Captain Dumaine?

2290Paroles I know him; a was a botcher's prentice in Paris, ¶from whence he was whipped for getting the sherriff's fool ¶with child, a dumb innocent that could not say him ¶nay.

¶Bertram [Aside to 1 Lord] Nay, by your leave, hold your hands, though I 2295know his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Well, is this captain in the Duke of Florence's ¶camp?

¶Paroles Upon my knowledge he is, and lousy.

¶1 Lord [To Bertram] Nay, look not so upon me. We shall hear of 2300your lordship anon.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" What is his reputation with the duke?

¶Paroles The duke knows him for no other but a poor ¶officer of mine, and writ to me this other day to turn ¶him out o'th'band. I think I have his letter in my 2305pocket.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Marry, we'll search.

¶Paroles In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there ¶or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters in my ¶tent.

23101 Soldier OR 'Interpreter'" Here 'tis, here's a paper. Shall I read it to you?

¶Paroles I do not know if it be it or no.

¶Bertram [Aside to the Lords] Our interpreter does it well.

¶1 Lord [Aside to Bertram] Excellently.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" [Reads] Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold.

2315Paroles That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an ¶advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to ¶take heed of the allurement of one Count Roussillon, a ¶foolish idle boy, but for all that very ruttish. I pray you, ¶sir, put it up again.

23201 Soldier OR "Interpreter" Nay, I'll read it first, by your favor.

¶Paroles My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the ¶behalf of the maid, for I knew the young count to be a ¶dangerous and lascivious boy who is a whale to ¶virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.

2325Bertram [Aside] Damnable both-sides rogue!

¶Bertram [Aside] He shall be whipped through the army with this ¶rhyme in's forehead.

¶2 Lord [Aside to Bertram] This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold 2340linguist, and the armipotent soldier.

¶Bertram [Aside] I could endure anything before but a cat, and ¶now he's a cat to me.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" I perceive, sir, by your general's looks, we shall ¶be fain to hang you.

2345Paroles My life, sir, in any case! Not that I am afraid to ¶die, but, that my offences being many, I would repent ¶out the remainder of nature. Let me live, sir, in a ¶dungeon, i'th'stocks, or anywhere, so I may live.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" We'll see what may be done, so you confess 2350freely; therefore, once more to this Captain Dumaine. ¶You have answered to his reputation with the duke, and ¶to his valor. What is his honesty?

¶Paroles He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister. For ¶rapes and ravishments, he parallels Nessus. He professes 2355not keeping of oaths -- in breaking 'em he is stronger than ¶Hercules. He will lie, sir, with such volubility, that you ¶would think truth were a fool. Drunkenness is his best ¶virtue, for he will be swine-drunk, and in his sleep he ¶does little harm, save to his bedclothes about him; 2360but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I ¶have but little more to say, sir, of his honesty. He has ¶every thing that an honest man should not have; what an ¶honest man should have, he has nothing.

¶1 Lord [Aside tp Bertram] I begin to love him for this.

2365Bertram [Aside to 1 Lord] For this description of thine honesty? A pox ¶upon him for me; he's more and more a cat.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" What say you to his expertness in war?

¶Paroles Faith, sir, he's led the drum before the ¶English tragedians. To belie him I will not, and more of his 2370soldiership I know not, except in that country, he had ¶the honor to be the officer at a place there called Mile ¶End, to instruct for the doubling of files. I would do the ¶man what honor I can, but of this I am not certain.

¶1 Lord [Aside] He hath out-villained villainy so far that the 2375rarity redeems him.

¶Bertram [Aside] A pox on him; he's a cat still.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" His qualities being at this poor price, I need ¶not to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt.

¶Paroles Sir, for a cardecu he will sell the fee-simple of 2380his salvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th'entail from ¶all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it ¶perpetually.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" What's his brother, the other Captain Dumaine?

¶2 Lord [Aside to 1 Lord] Why does he ask him of me?

23851 Soldier OR "Interpreter" What's he?

¶Paroles E'en a crow a'th'same nest: not altogether so ¶great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in ¶evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother ¶is reputed one of the best that is. In a retreat, he 2390outruns any lackey. Marry, in coming on, he has the ¶cramp.

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray ¶the Florentine?

¶Paroles Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Roussillon.

23951 Soldier OR "Interpreter" I'll whisper with the general and know his ¶pleasure.

¶Paroles I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! ¶Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the ¶supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run 2400into this danger. Yet who would have suspected an ¶ambush where I was taken?

¶1 Soldier OR "Interpreter" There is no remedy, sir, but you must die. The ¶general says you that have so traitorously discovered ¶the secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous 2405reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for ¶no honest use. Therefore you must die. -- Come ¶headsman, off with his head.

¶Paroles Oh Lord, sir! Let me live, or let me see my death.

¶1 Soldier That shall you, and take your leave of all your 2410friends. [He removes Paroles' blindfold.] ¶So, look about you. Know you any here?

¶Bertram Good morrow, noble captain.

¶2 Lord God bless you, Captain Paroles.

¶1 Lord God save you, noble captain.

24152 Lord Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord ¶Lafeu? I am for France.

¶1 Lord Good captain, will you give me a copy of ¶the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count ¶Roussillon? And I were not a very coward, I'd compel 2420it of you, but fare you well.

¶1 Soldier You are undone, captain, all but your scarf ¶that has a knot on't yet.

¶Paroles Who cannot be crushed with a plot?

¶1 Soldier If you could find out a country where but 2425women were that had received so much shame, you ¶might begin an impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir, I ¶am for France too. We shall speak of you there.

¶Lafeu No, no, no, your son was misled with a ¶snipped-taffeta fellow there, whose villainous saffron would have ¶made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his 2485color. Your daughter-in-law had been alive at this ¶hour, and your son here at home, more advanced ¶by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak ¶of.

¶Countess I would I had not known him; it was the death 2490of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature ¶had praise for creating. If she had partaken of my flesh ¶and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could ¶not have owed her a more rooted love.

¶Lafeu 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady. We 2495may pick a thousand salads ere we light on such ¶another herb.

¶Clown Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the ¶salad, or rather the herb of grace.

¶Lafeu They are not herbs, you knave, they are 2500nose-herbs.

¶Clown I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir: I have ¶not much skill in grace.

¶Lafeu Whether dost thou profess thyself -- a knave ¶or a fool?

2505Clown A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a ¶man's.

¶Lafeu Your distinction?

¶Clown I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his ¶service.

2510Lafeu So you were a knave at his service indeed.

¶Clown And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do ¶her service.

¶Lafeu I will subscribe for thee: thou art both knave ¶and fool.

2515Clown At your service.

¶Lafeu No, no, no.

¶Clown Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as ¶great a prince as you are.

¶Lafeu Who's that? A Frenchman?

2520Clown Faith, sir, a has an English mane OR mien OR meinie, but his ¶phys'nomy is more hotter in France than there.

¶Lafeu What prince is that?

¶Clown The black prince, sir, alias the prince of ¶darkness, alias the devil.

2525Lafeu Hold thee, there's my purse. I give thee not this ¶to suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st of; serve ¶him still.

¶Clown I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved ¶a great fire, and the master I speak of ever keeps a good 2530fire. But sure he is the prince of the world; let his ¶nobility remain in's court. I am for the house with the ¶narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to ¶enter. Some that humble themselves may, but the ¶many will be too chill and tender, and they'll be for the 2535flowery way that leads to the broad gate and the great ¶fire.

¶Lafeu Go thy ways; I begin to be a weary of thee, ¶and I tell thee so before because I would not fall out ¶with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well looked 2540too, without any tricks.

¶Clown If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be ¶jades' tricks, which are their own right by the law of ¶nature. Exit.

¶Lafeu A shrewd knave, and an unhappy.

2545Countess So a is. My lord that's gone made himself ¶much sport out of him. By his authority he remains ¶here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness, ¶and indeed he has no pace, but runs where he will.

¶Lafeu I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about 2550to tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death, and ¶that my lord your son was upon his return home, I ¶moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of ¶my daughter, which in the minority of them both, his ¶majesty out of a self-gracious remembrance did first 2555propose. His highness hath promised me to do it, and ¶to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against ¶your son there is no fitter matter. How does your ¶ladyship like it?

¶Countess With very much content, my lord, and I wish 2560it happily effected.

¶Lafeu His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as ¶able body as when he numbered thirty. A will be here ¶to morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such ¶intelligence hath seldom failed.

2565Countess It rejoices me that I hope I shall see him ere I ¶die. I have letters that my son will be here tonight; ¶I shall beseech your lordship to remain with me till ¶they meet together.

¶Lafeu Madam, I was thinking with what manners I 2570might safely be admitted.

¶Countess You need but plead your honorable ¶privilege.

¶Lafeu Lady, of that I have made a bold charter, but ¶I thank my God it holds yet.

¶Clown O madam, yonder's my lord your son with ¶a patch of velvet on's face. Whether there be a scar ¶under't or no, the velvet knows, but 'tis a goodly patch ¶of velvet; his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a 2580half, but his right cheek is worn bare.

¶Lafeu A scar nobly got, ¶or a noble scar, is a good liv'ry of honor. ¶So belike is that.

¶Clown But it is your carbonadoed face.

2585Lafeu Let us go see ¶your son, I pray you. I long to talk ¶with the young noble soldier.

¶Clown Faith, there's a dozen of 'em with delicate ¶fine hats and most courteous feathers which bow the 2590head and nod at every man.

¶Austringer And you.

¶Austringer I have been sometimes there.

¶Paroles Good Master Lavatch, give my Lord Lafeu this ¶letter. I have ere now, sir, been better known to you, when ¶I have held familiarity with fresher clothes, but I am ¶now, sir, muddied in Fortune's mood, and smell somewhat 2645strong of her strong displeasure.

¶Clown Truly, Fortune's displeasure is but sluttish if it ¶smell so strongly as thou speakst of: I will henceforth ¶eat no fish of Fortune's butt'ring. Prithee allow the ¶wind.

2650Paroles Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir. ; I spake ¶but by a metaphor.

¶Clown Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop ¶my nose, or against any man's metaphor. Prithee get thee ¶further.

2655Paroles Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.

¶Clown Foh! Prithee stand away. A paper from Fortune's ¶close-stool to give to a nobleman? Look, here he ¶comes himself.

2660Lafeu Here is a purr of Fortune's, sir, or of Fortune's ¶cat, but not a musk cat, that has fallen into the unclean ¶fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he says, is muddied ¶withal. Pray you, sir, use the carp as you may, for he ¶looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally 2665knave. I do pity his distress in my smiles of comfort, ¶and leave him to your lordship.

¶Paroles My lord, I am a man whom Fortune hath ¶cruelly scratched.

¶Lafeu And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too 2670late to pare her nails now. Wherein have you played ¶the knave with Fortune that she should scratch you, who ¶of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves ¶thrive long under her? There's a cardecu for you. [Gives him a coin.] Let the ¶justices make you and Fortune friends; I am for other 2675business.

¶Paroles I beseech your honor to hear me one single ¶word.

¶Lafeu You beg a single penny more. Come, you shall ¶ha't. Save your word. [Gives him another coin]

2680Paroles My name, my good lord, is Paroles.

¶Lafeu You beg more than word, then. Cox my ¶passion! Give me your hand. How does your drum?

¶Paroles Oh, my good lord, you were the first that found ¶me.

2685Lafeu Was I, in sooth? And I was the first that lost thee.

¶Paroles It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, ¶for you did bring me out.

¶Lafeu Out upon thee, knave! Dost thou put upon me ¶at once both the office of God and the devil? One brings 2690thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. [Trumpets sound.] The King's ¶coming -- I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, inquire ¶further after me. I had talk of you last night. Though you ¶are a fool and a knave, you shall eat. Go to, follow.

¶Paroles I praise God for you.

¶Lafeu I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll 2865for this. I'll none of him.

¶Lafeu [To Bertram] Your reputation comes too short for my ¶daughter. You are no husband for her!