5IN deliuering my sonne from me, I burie a se-

6cond husband.

7Ros And I in going Madam, weep ore my

8fathers death anew; but I must attend his maie-

9sties command, to whom I am now in Ward, euermore

10in subiection.

11Laf You shall find of the King a husband Madame,

12you sir a father. He that so generally is at all times good,

13must of necessitie hold his vertue to you, whose worthi-

14nesse would stirre it vp where it wanted rather then lack

15it where there is such abundance.

16Mo What hope is there of his Maiesties amendment?

17Laf He hath abandon'd his Phisitions Madam, vn-

18der whose practises he hath persecuted time with hope,

19and finds no other aduantage in the processe, but onely

20the loosing of hope by time.

21Mo This yong Gentlewoman had a father, O that

22had, how sad a passage tis, whose skill was almost as

23great as his honestie, had it stretch'd so far, would haue

24made nature immortall, and death should haue play for

25lacke of worke. Would for the Kings sake hee were li-

26uing, I thinke it would be the death of the Kings disease.

27Laf How call'd you the man you speake of Madam?

28Mo He was famous sir in his profession, and it was

29his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon

30Laf He was excellent indeed Madam, the King very

31latelie spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: hee

32was skilfull enough to haue liu'd stil, if knowledge could

33be set vp against mortallitie.

34Ros What is it (my good Lord) the King languishes

35of?

36Laf A Fistula my Lord.

37Ros I heard not of it before.

38Laf I would it were not notorious. Was this Gen-

39tlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon

40Mo His sole childe my Lord, and bequeathed to my

41ouer looking. I haue those hopes of her good, that her

42education promises her dispositions shee inherits, which

43makes faire gifts fairer: for where an vncleane mind car-

44ries vertuous qualities, there commendations go with

45pitty, they are vertues and traitors too: in her they are

46the better for their simplenesse; she deriues her honestie,

47and atcheeues her goodnesse.

48Lafew Your commendations Madam get from her

49teares.

50Mo 'Tis the best brine a Maiden can season her praise

51in. The remembrance of her father neuer approches her

52heart, but the tirrany of her sorrowes takes all liuelihood

53from her cheeke. No more of this Helena go too, no

54more least it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, then

55to haue------

56Hell I doe affect a sorrow indeed, but I haue it too.

57Laf Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead,

58excessiue greefe the enemie to the liuing.

59Mo If the liuing be enemie to the greefe, the excesse

60makes it soone mortall.

61Ros Maddam I desire your holie wishes.

62Laf How vnderstand we that?

63Mo Be thou blest Bertrame and succeed thy father

64In manners as in shape: thy blood and vertue

65Contend for Empire in thee, and thy goodnesse

66Share with thy birth-right. Loue all, trust a few,

67Doe wrong to none: be able for thine enemie

68Rather in power then vse: and keepe thy friend

69Vnder thy owne lifes key. Be checkt for silence,

70But neuer tax'd for speech. What heauen more wil,

71That thee may furnish, and my prayers plucke downe,

72Fall on thy head. Farwell my Lord,

73'Tis an vnseason'd Courtier, good my Lord

74Aduise him.

75Laf He cannot want the best

76That shall attend his loue.

77Mo Heauen blesse him: Farwell Bertram

78Ro The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoghts

79be seruants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your

80Mistris, and make much of her.

81Laf Farewell prettie Lady, you must hold the cre-

82dit of your father.

83Hell O were that all, I thinke not on my father,

84And these great teares grace his remembrance more

85Then those I shed for him. What was he like?

86I haue forgott him. My imagination

87Carries no fauour in't but Bertrams

88I am vndone, there is no liuing, none,

89If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one,

90That I should loue a bright particuler starre,

91And think to wed it, he is so aboue me

92In his bright radience and colaterall light,

93Must I be comforted, not in his sphere;

94Th' ambition in my loue thus plagues it selfe:

95The hind that would be mated by the Lion

96Must die for loue. 'Twas prettie, though a plague

97To see him euerie houre to sit and draw

98His arched browes, his hawking eie, his curles

99In our hearts table: heart too capeable

100Of euerie line and tricke of his sweet fauour.

101But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancie

102Must sanctifie his Reliques. Who comes heere?

104One that goes with him: I loue him for his sake,

105And yet I know him a notorious Liar,

106Thinke him a great way foole, solie a coward,

107Yet these fixt euils sit so fit in him,

108That they take place, when Vertues steely bones

109Lookes bleake i'th cold wind: withall, full ofte we see

110Cold wisedome waighting on superfluous follie.

111Par Saue you faire Queene.

112Hel And you Monarch.

113Par No.

114Hel And no.

115Par Are you meditating on virginitie?

116Hel I: you haue some staine of souldier in you: Let

117mee aske you a question. Man is enemie to virginitie,

118how may we barracado it against him?

119Par Keepe him out.

120Hel But he assailes, and our virginitie though vali-

121ant, in the defence yet is weak: vnfold to vs some war-like

122resistance.

123Par There is none: Man setting downe before you,

124will vndermine you, and blow you vp.

125Hel Blesse our poore Virginity from vnderminers

126and blowers vp. Is there no Military policy how Vir-

127gins might blow vp men?

128Par Virginity beeing blowne downe, Man will

129quicklier be blowne vp: marry in blowing him downe

130againe, with the breach your selues made, you lose your

131Citty. It is not politicke, in the Common-wealth of

132Nature, to preserue virginity. Losse of Virginitie, is

133rationall encrease, and there was neuer Virgin goe, till

134virginitie was first lost. That you were made of, is met-

135tall to make Virgins. Virginitie, by beeing once lost,

136may be ten times found: by being euer kept, it is euer

137lost: 'tis too cold a companion: Away with't.

138Hel I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die

139a Virgin.

140Par There's little can bee saide in't, 'tis against the

141rule of Nature. To speake on the part of virginitie, is

142to accuse your Mothers; which is most infallible diso-

143bedience. He that hangs himselfe is a Virgin: Virgini-

144tie murthers it selfe, and should be buried in highwayes

145out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate Offendresse a-

146gainst Nature. Virginitie breedes mites, much like a

147Cheese, consumes it selfe to the very payring, and so

148dies with feeding his owne stomacke. Besides, Virgini-

149tie is peeuish, proud, ydle, made of selfe-loue, which

150is the most inhibited sinne in the Cannon. Keepe it not,

151you cannot choose but loose by't. Out with't: within

152ten yeare it will make it selfe two, which is a goodly in-

153crease, and the principall it selfe not much the worse.

154Away with't.

155Hel How might one do sir, to loose it to her owne

156liking?

157Par Let mee see. Marry ill, to like him that ne're

158it likes. 'Tis a commodity wil lose the glosse with lying:

159The longer kept, the lesse worth: Off with't while 'tis

160vendible. Answer the time of request, Virginitie like

161an olde Courtier, weares her cap out of fashion, richly

162suted, but vnsuteable, iust like the brooch & the tooth-

163pick, which were not now: your Date is better in your

164Pye and your Porredge, then in your cheeke: and your

165virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French

166wither'd peares, it lookes ill, it eates drily, marry 'tis a

167wither'd peare: it was formerly better, marry yet 'tis a

168wither'd peare: Will you any thing with it?

169Hel Not my virginity yet:

170There shall your Master haue a thousand loues,

171A Mother, and a Mistresse, and a friend,

172A Phenix, Captaine, and an enemy,

173A guide, a Goddesse, and a Soueraigne,

174A Counsellor, a Traitoresse, and a Deare:

175His humble ambition, proud humility:

176His iarring, concord: and his discord, dulcet:

177His faith, his sweet disaster: with a world

178Of pretty fond adoptious christendomes

179That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he:

180I know not what he shall, God send him well,

181The Courts a learning place, and he is one.

182Par What one ifaith?

183Hel That I wish well, 'tis pitty.

184Par What's pitty?

185Hel That wishing well had not a body in't,

186Which might be felt, that we the poorer borne,

187Whose baser starres do shut vs vp in wishes,

188Might vvith effects of them follow our friends,

189And shew what we alone must thinke, which neuer

190Returnes vs thankes.

192Pag Monsieur Parrolles

193My Lord cals for you.

194Par Little Hellenfarewell, if I can remember thee, I

195will thinke of thee at Court.

196Hel Monsieur Parolles you were borne vnder a

197charitable starre.

198Par Vnder MarsI.

199Hel I especially thinke, vnder Mars

200Par Why vnder Mars

201Hel The warres hath so kept you vnder, that you

202must needes be borne vnder Mars

203Par When he was predominant.

204Hel When he was retrograde I thinke rather.

205Par Why thinke you so?

206Hel You go so much backward when you fight.

207Par That's for aduantage.

208Hel So is running away,

209When feare proposes the safetie:

210But the composition that your valour and feare makes

211in you, is a vertue of a good wing, and I like the

212weare well.

213Paroll I am so full of businesses, I cannot answere

214thee acutely: I will returne perfect Courtier, in the

215which my instruction shall serue to naturalize thee, so

216thou wilt be capeable of a Courtiers councell, and vn-

217derstand what aduice shall thrust vppon thee, else thou

218diest in thine vnthankfulnes, and thine ignorance makes

219thee away, farewell: When thou hast leysure, say thy

220praiers: when thou hast none, remember thy Friends:

V 2 Get

221Get thee a good husband, and vse him as he vses thee:

222So farewell.

223Hel Our remedies oft in our selues do lye,

224Which we ascribe to heauen: the fated skye

225Giues vs free scope, onely doth backward pull

226Our slow designes, when we our selues are dull.

227What power is it, which mounts my loue so hye,

228That makes me see, and cannot feede mine eye?

229The mightiest space in fortune, Nature brings

230To ioyne like, likes; and kisse like natiue things.

231Impossible be strange attempts to those

232That weigh their paines in sence, and do suppose

233What hath beene, cannot be. Who euer stroue

234To shew her merit, that did misse her loue?

235(The Kings disease) my proiect may deceiue me,

236But my intents are fixt, and will not leaue me. Exit

240King The Florentinesand Senoysare by th' eares,

241Haue fought with equall fortune, and continue

242A brauing warre.

2431.Lo.G So tis reported sir.

244King Nay tis most credible, we heere receiue it,

245A certaintie vouch'd from our Cosin Austria

246With caution, that the Florentinewill moue vs

247For speedie ayde: wherein our deerest friend

248Preiudicates the businesse, and would seeme

249To haue vs make deniall.

2501.Lo.G His loue and wisedome

251Approu'd so to your Maiesty, may pleade

252For amplest credence.

253King He hath arm'd our answer,

254And Florenceis deni'de before he comes:

255Yet for our Gentlemen that meane to see

256The Tuscanseruice, freely haue they leaue

257To stand on either part.

2582.Lo.E It well may serue

259A nursserie to our Gentrie, who are sicke

260For breathing, and exploit.

261King What's he comes heere.

2631.Lor.G It is the Count Rosignollmy good Lord,

264Yong Bertram

265King Youth, thou bear'st thy Fathers face,

266Franke Nature rather curious then in hast

267Hath well compos'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts

268Maist thou inherit too: Welcome to Paris

269Ber My thankes and dutie are your Maiesties.

270Kin I would I had that corporall soundnesse now,

271As when thy father, and my selfe, in friendship

272First tride our souldiership: he did looke farre

273Into the seruice of the time, and was

274Discipled of the brauest. He lasted long,

275But on vs both did haggish Age steale on,

276And wore vs out of act: It much repaires me

277To talke of your good father; in his youth

278He had the wit, which I can well obserue

279To day in our yong Lords: but they may iest

280Till their owne scorne returne to them vnnoted

281Ere they can hide their leuitie in honour:

282So like a Courtier, contempt nor bitternesse

283Were in his pride, or sharpnesse; if they were,

284His equall had awak'd them, and his honour

285Clocke to it selfe, knew the true minute when

286Exception bid him speake: and at this time

287His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him,

288He vs'd as creatures of another place,

289And bow'd his eminent top to their low rankes,

290Making them proud of his humilitie,

291In their poore praise he humbled: Such a man

292Might be a copie to these yonger times;

293Which followed well, would demonstrate them now

294But goers backward.

295Ber His good remembrance sir

296Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe:

297So in approofe liues not his Epitaph,

298As in your royall speech.

299King Would I were with him he would alwaies say,

300(Me thinkes I heare him now) his plausiue words

301He scatter'd not in eares, but grafted them

302To grow there and to beare: Let me not liue,

303This his good melancholly oft began

304On the Catastrophe and heele of pastime

305When it was out: Let me not liue (quoth hee)

306After my flame lackes oyle, to be the snuffe

307Of yonger spirits, whose apprehensiue senses

308All but new things disdaine; whose iudgements are

309Meere fathers of their garments: whose constancies

310Expire before their fashions: this he wish'd.

311I after him, do after him wish too:

312Since I nor wax nor honie can bring home,

313I quickly were dissolued from my hiue

314To giue some Labourers roome.

315L2.E You'r loued Sir,

316They that least lend it you, shall lacke you first.

317Kin I fill a place I know't: how long ist Count

318Since the Physitian at your fathers died?

319He was much fam'd.

320Ber Some six moneths since my Lord.

321Kin If he were liuing, I would try him yet.

322Lend me an arme: the rest haue worne me out

323With seuerall applications: Nature and sicknesse

324Debate it at their leisure. Welcome Count,

325My sonne's no deerer.

326Ber Thanke your Maiesty. Exit

329Coun I will now heare, what say you of this gentle-

330woman.

331Ste Maddam the care I haue had to euen your con-

332tent, I wish might be found in the Kalender of my past

333endeuours, for then we wound our Modestie, and make

334foule the clearnesse of our deseruings, when of our selues

335we publish them.

336Coun What doe's this knaue heere? Get you gone

337sirra: the complaints I haue heard of you I do not all be-

338leeue, 'tis my slownesse that I doe not: For I know you

339lacke not folly to commit them, & haue abilitie enough

340to make such knaueries yours.

341Clo 'Tis not vnknown to you Madam, I am a poore

342fellow.

343Coun Well sir.

344Clo No maddam,

345'Tis not so well that I am poore, though manie

346of the rich are damn'd, but if I may haue your Ladiships

347good will to goe to the world, Isbellthe woman and w

348will doe as we may.

349Coun Wilt thou needes be a begger?

350Clo I doe beg your good will in this case.

351Cou In what case?

352Clo In Isbelscase and mine owne: seruice is no heri-

353tage, and I thinke I shall neuer haue the blessing of God,

354till I haue issue a my bodie: for they say barnes are bles-

355sings.

356Cou Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marrie?

357Clo My poore bodie Madam requires it, I am driuen

358on by the flesh, and hee must needes goe that the diuell

359driues.

360Cou Is this all your worships reason?

361Clo Faith Madam I haue other holie reasons, such as

362they are.

363Cou May the world know them?

364Clo I haue beene Madam a wicked creature, as you

365and all flesh and blood are, and indeede I doe marrie that

366I may repent.

367Cou Thy marriage sooner then thy wickednesse.

368Clo I am out a friends Madam, and I hope to haue

369friends for my wiues sake.

370Cou Such friends are thine enemies knaue.

371Clo Y'are shallow Madam in great friends, for the

372knaues come to doe that for me which I am a wearie of:

373he that eres my Land, spares my teame, and giues mee

374leaue to Inne the crop: if I be his cuckold hee's my

375drudge; he that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of

376my flesh and blood; hee that cherishes my flesh and

377blood, loues my flesh and blood; he that loues my flesh

378and blood is my friend: ergo he that kisses my wife is my

379friend: if men could be contented to be what they are,

380there were no feare in marriage, for yong Charbonthe

381Puritan, and old Poysamthe Papist, how somere their

382hearts are seuer'd in Religion, their heads are both one,

383they may ioule horns together like any Deare i'th Herd.

384Cou Wilt thou euer be a foule mouth'd and calum-

385nious knaue?

386Clo A Prophet I Madam, and I speake the truth the

387next waie, for I the Ballad will repeate, which men full

388true shall finde, your marriage comes by destinie, your

389Cuckow sings by kinde.

390Cou Get you gone sir, Ile talke with you more anon.

391Stew May it please you Madam, that hee bid Hellen

392come to you, of her I am to speake.

393Cou Sirra tell my gentlewoman I would speake with

394her, HellenI meane.

395Clo Was this faire face the cause, quoth she,

396Why the Grecians sacked Troy

397Fond done, done, fond was this King Priamsioy,

398With that she sighed as she stood, bis

399And gaue this sentence then, among nine bad if one be

400good, among nine bad if one be good, there's yet one

401good in ten.

402Cou What, one good in tenne? you corrupt the song

403sirra.

404Clo One good woman in ten Madam, which is a pu-

405rifying ath' song: would God would serue the world so

406all the yeere, weed finde no fault with the tithe woman

407if I were the Parson, one in ten quoth a? and wee might

408haue a good woman borne but ore euerie blazing starre,

409or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the Lotterie well, a

410man may draw his heart out ere a plucke one.

411Cou Youle begone sir knaue, and doe as I command

412you?

413Clo That man should be at womans command, and

414yet no hurt done, though honestie be no Puritan, yet

415it will doe no hurt, it will weare the Surplis of humilitie

416ouer the blacke-Gowne of a bigge heart: I am go-

417ing forsooth, the businesse is for Helen to come hither.

419Cou Well now.

420Stew I know Madam you loue your Gentlewoman

421intirely.

422Cou Faith I doe: her Father bequeath'd her to mee,

423and she her selfe without other aduantage, may lawful-

424lie make title to as much loue as shee findes, there is

425more owing her then is paid, and more shall be paid

426her then sheele demand.

427Stew Madam, I was verie late more neere her then

428I thinke shee wisht mee, alone shee was, and did

429communicate to her selfe her owne words to her

430owne eares, shee thought, I dare vowe for her, they

431toucht not anie stranger sence, her matter was, shee

432loued your Sonne; Fortune shee said was no god-

433desse, that had put such difference betwixt their two

434estates: Loue no god, that would not extend his might

435onelie, where qualities were leuell, Queene of Vir-

436gins, that would suffer her poore Knight surpris'd

437without rescue in the first assault or ransome after-

438ward: This shee deliuer'd in the most bitter touch of

439sorrow that ere I heard Virgin exclaime in, which I held

440my dutie speedily to acquaint you withall, sithence in

441the losse that may happen, it concernes you something

442to know it.

443Cou You haue discharg'd this honestlie, keepe it

444to your selfe, manie likelihoods inform'd mee of this

445before, which hung so tottring in the ballance, that

446I could neither beleeue nor misdoubt: praie you

447leaue mee, stall this in your bosome, and I thanke

448you for your honest care: I will speake with you fur-

449ther anon. Exit Steward

451Old. Cou Euen so it vvas vvith me when I was yong:

452If euer vve are natures, these are ours, this thorne

453Doth to our Rose of youth righlie belong

454Our bloud to vs, this to our blood is borne,

455It is the show, and seale of natures truth,

456Where loues strong passion is imprest in youth,

457By our remembrances of daies forgon,

458Such were our faults, or then we thought them none,

459Her eie is sicke on't, I obserue her now.

460Hell What is your pleasure Madam?

461Ol. Cou You know HellenI am a mother to you.

462Hell Mine honorable Mistris.

463Ol. Cou Nay a mother, why not a mother? when I

464 sed a mother

465Me thought you saw a serpent, what's in mother,

466That you start at it? I say I am your mother,

467And put you in the Catalogue of those

468That were enwombed mine, 'tis often seene

469Adoption striues vvith nature, and choise breedes

470A natiue slip to vs from forraine seedes:

471You nere opprest me with a mothers groane,

472Yet I expresse to you a mothers care,

473(Gods mercie maiden) dos it curd thy blood

474To say I am thy mother? vvhat's the matter,

475That this distempered messenger of wet?

V 3 The

476The manie colour'd Iris rounds thine eye?

477------ Why, that you are my daughter?

478Hell That I am not.

479Old.Cou I say I am your Mother.

480Hell Pardon Madam.

481The Count Rosillioncannot be my brother:

482I am from humble, he from honored name:

483No note vpon my Parents, his all noble,

484My Master, my deere Lord he is, and I

485His seruant liue, and will his vassall die:

486He must not be my brother.

487Ol.Cou Nor I your Mother.

488Hell You are my mother Madam, would you were

489So that my Lord your sonne were not my brother,

490Indeede my mother, or were you both our mothers,

491I care no more for, then I doe for heauen,

492So I were not his sister, cant no other,

493But I your daughter, he must be my brother.

494Old.Cou Yes Hellen you might be my daughter in law,

495God shield you meane it not, daughter and mother

496So striue vpon your pulse; what pale agen?

497My feare hath catcht your fondnesse! now I see

498The mistrie of your louelinesse, and finde

499Your salt teares head, now to all sence 'tis grosse:

500You loue my sonne, inuention is asham'd

501Against the proclamation of thy passion

502To say thou doost not: therefore tell me true,

503But tell me then 'tis so, for looke, thy cheekes

504Confesse it 'ton tooth to th' other, and thine eies

505See it so grosely showne in thy behauiours,

506That in their kinde they speake it, onely sinne

507And hellish obstinacie tye thy tongue

508That truth should be suspected, speake, ist so?

509If it be so, you haue wound a goodly clewe:

510If it be not, forsweare't how ere I charge thee,

511As heauen shall worke in me for thine auaile

512To tell me truelie.

513Hell Good Madam pardon me.

514Cou Do you loue my Sonne?

515Hell Your pardon noble Mistris.

516Cou Loue you my Sonne?

517Hell Doe not you loue him Madam?

518Cou Goe not about; my loue hath in't a bond

519Whereof the world takes note: Come, come, disclose:

520The state of your affection, for your passions

521Haue to the full appeach'd.

522Hell Then I confesse

523Here on my knee, before high heauen and you,

524That before you, and next vnto high heauen, I loue your

525 Sonne:

526My friends were poore but honest, so's my loue:

527Be not offended, for it hurts not him

528That he is lou'd of me; I follow him not

529By any token of presumptuous suite,

530Nor would I haue him, till I doe deserue him,

531Yet neuer know how that desert should be:

532I know I loue in vaine, striue against hope:

533Yet in this captious, and intemible Siue.

534I still poure in the waters of my loue

535And lacke not to loose still; thus Indianlike

536Religious in mine error, I adore

537The Sunne that lookes vpon his worshipper,

538But knowes of him no more. My deerest Madam,

539Let not your hate incounter with my loue,

540For louing where you doe; but if your selfe,

541Whose aged honor cites a vertuous youth,

542Did euer, in so true a flame of liking,

543Wish chastly, and loue dearely, that your Dian

544Was both her selfe and loue, O then giue pittie

545To her whose state is such, that cannot choose

546But lend and giue where she is sure to loose;

547That seekes not to finde that, her search implies,

548But riddle like, liues sweetely where she dies.

549Cou Had you not lately an intent, speake truely,

550To goe to Paris

551Hell Madam I had.

552Cou Wherefore? tell true.

553Hell I will tell truth, by grace it selfe I sweare:

554You know my Father left me some prescriptions

555Of rare and prou'd effects, such as his reading

556And manifest experience, had collected

557For generall soueraigntie: and that he wil'd me

558In heedefull'st reseruation to bestow them,

559As notes, whose faculties inclusiue were,

560More then they were in note: Amongst the rest,

561There is a remedie, approu'd, set downe,

562To cure the desperate languishings whereof

563The King is render'd lost.

564Cou This was your motiue for Paris was it, speake?

565Hell My Lord, your sonne, made me to think of this;

566Else Paris and the medicine, and the King,

567Had from the conuersation of my thoughts,

568Happily beene absent then.

569Cou But thinke you Hellen

570If you should tender your supposed aide,

571He would receiue it? He and his Phisitions

572Are of a minde, he, that they cannot helpe him:

573They, that they cannot helpe, how shall they credit

574A poore vnlearned Virgin, when the Schooles

575Embowel'd of their doctrine, haue left off

576The danger to it selfe.

577Hell There's something in't

578More then my Fathers skill, which was the great'st

579Of his profession, that his good rec eipt,

580Shall for my legacie be sanctified

581Byth' luckiest stars in heauen, and would your honor

582But giue me leaue to trie successe, I'de venture

583The well lost life of mine, on his Graces cure,

584By such a day, an houre.

585Cou Doo'st thou beleeue't?

586Hell I Madam knowingly.

587Cou Why Hellenthou shalt haue my leaue and loue,

588Meanes and attendants, and my louing greetings

589To those of mine in Court, Ile staie at home

590And praie Gods blessing into thy attempt:

591Begon to morrow, and be sure of this,

592What I can helpe thee to, thou shalt not misse. Exeunt

597King Farewell yong Lords, these warlike principles

598Doe not throw from you, and you my Lords farewell:

599Share the aduice betwixt you, if both gaine, all

600The guift doth stretch it selfe as 'tis receiu'd,

601And is enough for both.

602Lord. G 'Tis our hope sir,

603After well entred souldiers, to returne

604And finde your grace in health.

605King No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart

606Will not confesse he owes the mallady

607That doth my life besiege: farwell yong Lords,

608Whether I liue or die, be you the sonnes

609Of worthy French men: let higher Italy

610(Those bated that inherit but the fall

611Of the last Monarchy) see that you come

612Not to wooe honour, but to wed it, when

613The brauest questant shrinkes: finde what you seeke,

614That fame may cry you loud: I say farewell.

615L. G Health at your bidding serue your Maiesty.

616King Those girles of Italy, take heed of them,

617They say our French, lacke language to deny

618If they demand: beware of being Captiues

619Before you serue.

620Bo Our hearts receiue your warnings.

621King Farewell, come hether to me.

6221. Lo. G Oh my sweet Lord CyC you wil stay behind vs.

623Parr 'Tis not his fault the spark.

6242. Lo. E Oh 'tis braue warres.

625Parr Most admirable, I haue seene those warres.

626Rossill I am commanded here, and kept a coyle with,

627Too young, and the next yeere, and 'tis too early.

628Parr And thy minde stand too't boy,

629Steale away brauely.

630Rossill I shal stay here the for-horse to a smocke,

631Creeking my shooes on the plaine Masonry,

632Till honour be bought vp, and no sword worne

633But one to dance with: by heauen, Ile steale away.

6341. Lo. G There's honour in the theft.

635Parr Commit it Count.

6362. Lo. E I am your accessary, and so farewell.

637Ros I grow to you, & our parting is a tortur'd body.

6381. Lo. G Farewell Captaine.

6392. Lo. E Sweet Mounsier Parolles

640Parr Noble Heroes my sword and yours are kinne,

641good sparkes and lustrous, a word good mettals. You

642shall finde in the Regiment of the Spinij, one Captaine

643Spuriohis sicatrice, with an Embleme of warre heere on

644his sinister cheeke; it was this very sword entrench'd it:

645say to him I liue, and obserue his reports for me.

646Lo. G We shall noble Captaine.

647Parr Marsdoate on you for his nouices, what will

648ye doe?

649Ross. Stay the King.

650Parr Vse a more spacious ceremonie to the Noble

651Lords, you haue restrain'd your selfe within the List of

652too cold an adieu: be more expressiue to them; for they

653weare themselues in the cap of the time, there do muster

654true gate; eat, speake, and moue vnder the influence of

655the most receiu'd starre, and though the deuill leade the

656measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a

657more dilated farewell.

658Ros And I will doe so.

659Parr Worthy fellowes, and like to prooue most si-

660newie sword-men. Exeunt

662L. Laf Pardon my Lord for mee and for my tidings.

663King Ile see thee to stand vp.

664L. Laf Then heres a man stands that has brought his (pardon,

665I would you had kneel'd my Lord to aske me mercy,

666And that at my bidding you could so stand vp.

667King I would I had, so I had broke thy pate

668And askt thee mercy for't.

669Laf Goodfaith a-crosse, but my good Lord 'tis thus,

670Will you be cur'd of your infirmitie?

671King No.

672Laf O will you eat no grapes my royall foxe?

673Yes but you will, my noble grapes, and if

674My royall foxe could reach them: I haue seen a medicine

675That's able to breath life into a stone,

676Quicken a rocke, and make you dance Canari

677With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch

678Is powerfull to arayse King Pippen nay

679To giue great Charlemainea pen in's hand

680And write to her a loue-line.

681King What her is this?

682Laf Why doctor she: my Lord, there's one arriu'd,

683If you will see her: now by my faith and honour,

684If seriously I may conuay my thoughts

685In this my light deliuerance, I haue spoke

686With one, that in her sexe, her yeeres, profession,

687Wisedome and constancy, hath amaz'd mee more

688Then I dare blame my weakenesse: will you see her?

689For that is her demand, and know her businesse?

690That done, laugh well at me.

691King Now good Lafew

692Bring in the admiration, that we with thee

693May spend our wonder too, or take off thine

694By wondring how thou tookst it.

695Laf Nay, Ile fit you,

696And not be all day neither.

697King Thus he his speciall nothing euer prologues.

698Laf Nay, come your waies.

700King This haste hath wings indeed.

701Laf Nay, come your waies,

702This is his Maiestie, say your minde to him,

703A Traitor you doe looke like, but such traitors

704His Maiesty seldome feares, I am CressedsVncle,

705That dare leaue two together, far you well. Exit

706King Now faire one, do's your busines follow vs?

707Hel I my good Lord,

708Gerard de Narbonwas my father,

709In what he did professe, well found.

710King I knew him.

711Hel The rather will I spare my praises towards him,

712Knowing him is enough: on's bed of death,

713Many receits he gaue me, chieflie one,

714Which as the dearest issue of his practice

715And of his olde experience, th' onlie darling,

716He bad me store vp, as a triple eye,

717Safer then mine owne two: more deare I haue so,

718And hearing your high Maiestie is toucht

719With that malignant cause, wherein the honour

720Of my deare fathers gift, stands cheefe in power,

721I come to tender it, and my appliance,

722With all bound humblenesse.

723King We thanke you maiden,

724But may not be so credulous of cure,

725When our most learned Doctors leaue vs, and

726The congregated Colledge haue concluded,

727That labouring Art can neuer ransome nature

728From her inaydible estate: I say we must not

729So staine our iudgement, or corrupt our hope,

730To prostitute our past-cure malladie

731To empericks, or to disseuer so

732Our great selfe and our credit, to esteeme

733A sencelesse helpe, when helpe past sence we deeme.

734Hell My dutie then shall pay me for my paines:

735I will no more enforce mine office on you,

736Humbly intreating from your royall thoughts,

737A modest one to beare me backe againe.

738King I cannot giue thee lesse to be cal'd gratefull:

739Thou thoughtst to helpe me, and such thankes I giue,

740As one neere death to those that wish him liue:

741But what at full I know, thou knowst no part,

742I knowing all my perill, thou no Art.

743Hell What I can doe, can doe no hurt to try,

744Since you set vp your rest 'gainst remedie:

745He that of greatest workes is finisher,

746Oft does them by the weakest minister:

747So holy Writ, in babes hath iudgement showne,

748When Iudges haue bin babes; great flouds haue flowne

749From simple sources: and great Seas haue dried

750When Miracles haue by the great'st beene denied.

751Oft expectation failes, and most oft there

752Where most it promises: and oft it hits,

753Where hope is coldest, and despaire most shifts.

754King I must not heare thee, fare thee wel kind maide,

755Thy paines not vs'd, must by thy selfe be paid,

756Proffers not tooke, reape thanks for their reward.

757Hel Inspired Merit so by breath is bard,

758It is not so with him that all things knowes

759As 'tis with vs, that square our guesse by showes:

760But most it is presumption in vs, when

761The help of heauen we count the act of men.

762Deare sir, to my endeauors giue consent,

763Of heauen, not me, make an experiment.

764I am not an Impostrue, that proclaime

765My selfe against the leuill of mine aime,

766But know I thinke, and thinke I know most sure,

767My Art is not past power, nor you past cure.

768King Art thou so confident? Within what space

769Hop'st thou my cure?

770Hel The greatest grace lending grace,

771Ere twice the horses of the sunne shall bring

772Their fiery torcher his diurnall ring,

773Ere twice in murke and occidentall dampe

774Moist Hesperushath quench'd her sleepy Lampe:

775Or foure and twenty times the Pylots glasse

776Hath told the theeuish minutes, how they passe:

777What is infirme, from your sound parts shall flie,

778Health shall liue free, and sickenesse freely dye.

779King Vpon thy certainty and confidence,

780What dar'st thou venter?

781Hell Taxe of impudence,

782A strumpets boldnesse, a divulged shame

783Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maidens name

784Seard otherwise, ne worse of worst extended

785With vildest torture, let my life be ended.

786Kin Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak

787His powerfull sound, within an organ weake:

788And what impossibility would slay

789In common sence, sence saues another way:

790Thy life is deere, for all that life can rate

791Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate:

792Youth, beauty, wisedome, courage, all

793That happines and prime, can happy call:

794Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate

795Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate,

796Sweet practiser, thy Physicke I will try,

797That ministers thine owne death if I die.

798Hel If I breake time, or flinch in property

799Of what I spoke, vnpittied let me die,

800And well deseru'd: not helping, death's my fee,

801But if I helpe, what doe you promise me.

802Kin Make thy demand.

803Hel But will you make it euen?

804Kin I by my Scepter, and my hopes of helpe.

805Hel Then shalt thou giue me with thy kingly hand

806What husband in thy power I will command:

807Exempted be from me the arrogance

808To choose from forth the royall bloud of France,

809My low and humble name to propagate

810With any branch or image of thy state:

811But such a one thy vassall, whom I know

812Is free for me to aske, thee to bestow.

813Kin Heere is my hand, the premises obseru'd,

814Thy will by my performance shall be seru'd:

815So make the choice of thy owne time, for I

816Thy resolv'd Patient, on thee still relye:

817More should I question thee, and more I must,

818Though more to know, could not be more to trust:

819From whence thou cam'st, how tended on, but rest

820Vnquestion'd welcome, and vndoubted blest.

821Giue me some helpe heere hoa, if thou proceed,

822As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.

825Lady Come on sir, I shall now put you to the height

826of your breeding.

827Clown I will shew my selfe highly fed, and lowly

828taught, I know my businesse is but to the Court.

829Lady To the Court, why what place make you spe-

830ciall, when you put off that with such contempt, but to

831the Court?

832Clo Truly Madam, if God haue lent a man any man-

833ners, hee may easilie put it off at Court: hee that cannot

834make a legge, put off's cap, kisse his hand, and say no-

835thing, has neither legge, hands, lippe, nor cap; and in-

836deed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the

837Court, but for me, I haue an answere will serue all men.

838Lady Marry that's a bountifull answere that fits all

839questions.

840Clo It is like a Barbers chaire that fits all buttockes,

841the pin buttocke, the quatch-buttocke, the brawn but-

842tocke, or any buttocke.

843Lady Will your answere serue fit to all questions?

844Clo As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an Attur-

845ney, as your French Crowne for your taffety punke, as

846Tibsrush for Tomsfore-finger, as a pancake for Shroue-

847tuesday, a Morris for May-day, as the naile to his hole,

848the Cuckold to his horne, as a scolding queane to a

849wrangling knaue, as the Nuns lip to the Friers mouth,

850nay as the pudding to his skin.

851Lady Haue you, I say, an answere of such fitnesse for

852all questions?

853Clo From below your Duke, to beneath your Con-

854stable, it will fit any question.

855Lady It must be an answere of most monstrous size,

856that must fit all demands.

857Clo But a triflle neither in good faith, if the learned

858should speake truth of it: heere it is, and all that belongs

859to't. Aske mee if I am a Courtier, it shall doe you no

860harme to learne.

861Lady To be young againe if we could: I will bee a

862foole in question, hoping to bee the wiser by your an-

863swer.

864La I pray you sir, are you a Courtier?

865Clo O Lord sir theres a simple putting off: more,

866more, a hundred of them.

867La Sir I am a poore freind of yours, that loues you.

868Clo O Lord sir, thicke, thicke, spare not me.

869La I thinke sir, you can eate none of this homely

870meate.

871Clo O Lord sir; nay put me too't, I warrant you.

872La You were lately whipt sir as I thinke.

873Clo O Lord sir, spare not me.

874La Doe you crie O Lord sir at your whipping, and

875spare not me? Indeed your O Lord sir, is very sequent

876to your whipping: you would answere very well to a

877whipping if you were but bound too't.

878Clo I nere had worse lucke in my life in my O Lord

879sir: I see things may serue long, but not serue euer.

880La I play the noble huswife with the time, to enter-

881taine it so merrily with a foole.

882Clo O Lord sir, why there't serues well agen.

883La And end sir to your businesse: giue Hellenthis,

884And vrge her to a present answer backe,

885Commend me to my kinsmen, and my sonne,

886This is not much.

887Clo Not much commendation to them.

888La Not much imployement for you, you vnder-

889stand me.

890Clo Most fruitfully, I am there, before my legges.

891La Hast you agen. Exeunt

893Ol. Laf They say miracles are past, and we haue our

894Philosophicall persons, to make moderne and familiar

895things supernaturall and causelesse. Hence is it, that we

896make trifles of terrours, ensconcing our selues into see-

897ming knowledge, when we should submit our selues to

898an vnknowne feare.

899Par Why 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that

900hath shot out in our latter times.

901Ros And so 'tis.

902Ol. Laf To be relinquisht of the Artists.

903Par So I say both of Galen and Paracelsus

904Ol. Laf Of all the learned and authenticke fellowes.

905Par Right so I say.

906Ol. Laf That gaue him out incureable.

907Par Why there 'tis, so say I too.

908Ol. Laf Not to be help'd.

909Par Right, as 'twere a man assur'd of a------

910Ol. Laf Vncertaine life, and sure death.

911Par Iust, you say well: so would I haue said.

912Ol. Laf I may truly say, it is a noueltie to the world.

913Par It is indeede if you will haue it in shewing, you

914shall reade it in what do ye call there.

915Ol. Laf A shewing of a heauenly effect in an earth-

916ly Actor.

917Par That's it, I would haue said, the verie same.

918Ol. Laf Why your Dolphin is not lustier: fore mee

919I speake in respect---

920Par Nay 'tis strange, 'tis very straunge, that is the

921breefe and the tedious of it, and he's of a most facineri-

922ous spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the---

923Ol.Laf Very hand of heauen.

924Par I, so I say.

925Ol.Laf In a most weake---

926Par And debile minister great power, great tran-

927cendence, which should indeede giue vs a further vse to

928be made, then alone the recou'ry of the king, as to bee

929Old Laf Generally thankfull.

931Par I would haue said it, you say well: heere comes

932the King.

933Ol. Laf Lustique, as the Dutchman saies: Ile like a

934maide the Better whil'st I haue a tooth in my head: why

935he's able to leade her a Carranto.

936Par Mor du vinager is not this Helen

937Ol. Laf Fore God I thinke so.

938King Goe call before mee all the Lords in Court,

939Sit my preseruer by thy patients side,

940And with this healthfull hand whose banisht sence

941Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receyue

942The confirmation of my promis'd guift,

943Which but attends thy naming.

945Faire Maide send forth thine eye, this youthfull parcell

946Of Noble Batchellors, stand at my bestowing,

947Ore whom both Soueraigne power, and fathers voice

948I haue to vse; thy franke election make,

949Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.

950Hel To each of you, one faire and vertuous Mistris;

951Fall when loue please, marry to each but one.

952Old Laf I'de giue bay curtall, and his furniture

953My mouth no more were broken then these boyes,

954And writ as little beard.

955King Peruse them well:

956Not one of those, but had a Noble father.

958Hel Gentlemen, heauen hath through me, restor'd

959the king to health.

960All We vnderstand it, and thanke heauen for you.

961Hel I am a simple Maide, and therein wealthiest

962That I protest, I simply am a Maide:

963Please it your Maiestie, I haue done already:

964The blushes in my cheekes thus whisper mee,

965We blush that thou shouldst choose, but be refused;

966Let the white death sit on thy cheeke for euer,

967Wee'l nere come there againe.

968King Make choise and see,

969Who shuns thy loue, shuns all his loue in mee.

970Hel Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly,

971And to imperiall loue, that God most high

972Do my sighes streame: Sir, wil you heare my suite?

9731. Lo And grant it.

974Hel Thankes sir, all the rest is mute.

975Ol. Laf I had rather be in this choise, then throw

976Ames-ace for my life.

977Hel The honor sir that flames in your faire eyes,

978Before I speake too threatningly replies:

979Loue make your fortunes twentie times aboue

980Her that so vvishes, and her humble loue.

9812. Lo No better if you please.

982Hel My wish receiue,

983Which great loue grant, and so I take my leaue.

984Ol. Laf Do all they denie her? And they were sons

985of mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send them

986to'th Turke to make Eunuches of.

987Hel Be not afraid that I your hand should take,

988Ile neuer do you wrong for your owne sake:

989Blessing vpon your vowes, and in your bed

990Finde fairer fortune, if you euer wed.

991Old Laf These boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none

992haue heere: sure they are bastards to the English, the

993French nere got em.

994La You are too young, too happie, and too good

995To make your selfe a sonne out of my blood.

9964.Lord Faire one, I thinke not so.

997Ol. Lord There's one grape yet, I am sure thy father

998drunke wine. But if thou be'st not an asse, I am a youth

999of fourteene: I haue knowne thee already.

1000Hel I dare not say I take you, but I giue

1001Me and my seruice, euer whilst I liue

1002Into your guiding power: This is the man.

1003King Why then young Bertram take her shee's thy

1004wife.

1005Ber My wife my Leige? I shal beseech your highnes

1006In such a busines, giue me leaue to vse

1007The helpe of mine owne eies.

1008King Know'st thou not Bertram what shee ha's

1009done for mee?

1010Ber Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to know

1011why I should marrie her.

1012King Thou know'st shee ha's rais'd me from my sick-

1013ly bed.

1014Ber But followes it my Lord, to bring me downe

1015Must answer for your raising? I knowe her well:

1016Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge:

1017A poore Physitians daughter my wife? Disdaine

1018Rather corrupt me euer.

1019King Tis onely title thou disdainst in her, the which

1020I can build vp: strange is it that our bloods

1021Of colour, waight, and heat, pour'd all together,

1022Would quite confound distinction: yet stands off

1023In differences so mightie. If she bee

1024All that is vertuous (saue what thou dislik'st)

1025A poore Phisitians daughter, thou dislik'st

1026Of vertue for the name: but doe not so:

1027From lowest place, whence vertuous things proceed,

1028The place is dignified by th' doers deede.

1029Where great additions swell's, and vertue none,

1030It is a dropsied honour. Good alone,

1031Is good without a name? Vilenesse is so:

1032The propertie by what is is, should go,

1033Not by the title. Shee is young, wise, faire,

1034In these, to Nature shee's immediate heire:

1035And these breed honour: that is honours scorne,

1036Which challenges it selfe as honours borne,

1037And is not like the sire: Honours thriue,

1038When rather from our acts we them deriue

1039Then our fore-goers: the meere words, a slaue

1040Debosh'd on euerie tombe, on euerie graue:

1041A lying Trophee, and as oft is dumbe,

1042Where dust, and damn'd obliuion is the Tombe.

1043Of honour'd bones indeed, what should be saide?

1044If thou canst like this creature, as a maide,

1045I can create the rest: Vertue, and shee

1046Is her owne dower: Honour and wealth, from mee.

1047Ber I cannot loue her, nor will striue to doo't.

1048King Thou wrong'st thy selfe, if thou shold'st striue

1049to choose.

1050Hel That you are well restor'd my Lord, I'me glad:

1051Let the rest go.

1052King My Honor's at the stake, which to defeate

1053I must produce my power. Heere, take her hand,

1054Proud scornfull boy, vnworthie this good gift,

1055That dost in vile misprision shackle vp

1056My loue, and her desert: that canst not dreame,

1057We poizing vs in her defectiue scale,

1058Shall weigh thee to the beame: That wilt not know,

1059It is in Vs to plant thine Honour, where

1060We please to haue it grow. Checke thy contempt:

1061Obey Our will, which trauailes in thy good:

1062Beleeue not thy disdaine, but presentlie

1063Do thine owne fortunes that obedient right

1064Which both thy dutie owes, and Our power claimes,

1065Or I will throw thee from my care for euer

1066Into the staggers, and the carelesse lapse

1067Of youth and ignorance: both my reuenge and hate

1068Loosing vpon thee, in the name of iustice,

1069Without all termes of pittie. Speake, thine answer.

1070Ber Pardon my gracious Lord: for I submit

1071My fancie to your eies, when I consider

1072What great creation, and what dole of honour

1073Flies where you bid it: I finde that she which late

1074Was in my Nobler thoughts, most base: is now

1075The praised of the King, who so ennobled,

1076Is as 'twere borne so.

1077King Take her by the hand,

1078And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise

1079A counterpoize: If not to thy estate,

1080A ballance more repleat.

1081Ber I take her hand.

1082Kin Good fortune, and the fauour of the King

1083Smile vpon this Contract: whose Ceremonie

1084Shall seeme expedient on the now borne briefe,

1085And be perform'd to night: the solemne Feast

1086Shall more attend vpon the coming space,

1087Expecting absent friends. As thou lou'st her,

1088Thy loue's to me Religious: else, do's erre. Exeunt

1091Laf Do you heare Monsieur? A word with you.

1092Par Your pleasure sir.

1093Laf Your Lord and Master did well to make his re-

1094cantation.

1095Par Recantation? My Lord? my Master?

1096Laf I: Is it not a Language I speake?

1097Par A most harsh one, and not to bee vnderstoode

1098without bloudie succeeding. My Master?

1099Laf Are you Companion to the Count Rosillion

1100Par To any Count, to all Counts: to what is man.

1101Laf To what is Counts man: Counts maister is of

1102another stile.

1103Par You are too old sir: Let it satisfie you, you are

1104too old.

1105Laf I must tell thee sirrah, I write Man: to which

1106title age cannot bring thee.

1107Par What I dare too well do, I dare not do.

1108Laf I did thinke thee for two ordinaries: to bee a

1109prettie wise fellow, thou didst make tollerable vent of

1110thy trauell, it might passe: yet the scarffes and the ban-

1111nerets about thee, did manifoldlie disswade me from be-

1112leeuing thee a vessell of too great a burthen. I haue now

1113found thee, when I loose thee againe, I care not: yet art

1114thou good for nothing but taking vp, and that th'ourt

1115scarce worth.

1116Par Hadst thou not the priuiledge of Antiquity vp-

1117on thee.

1118Laf Do not plundge thy selfe to farre in anger, least

1119thou hasten thy triall: which if, Lord haue mercie on

1120thee for a hen, so my good window of Lettice fare thee

1121well, thy casement I neede not open, for I look through

1122thee. Giue me thy hand.

1123Par My Lord, you giue me most egregious indignity.

1124Laf I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.

1125Par I haue not my Lord deseru'd it.

1126Laf Yes good faith, eu'ry dramme of it, and I will

1127not bate thee a scruple.

1128Par Well, I shall be wiser.

1129Laf Eu'n as soone as thou can'st, for thou hast to pull

1130at a smacke a'th contrarie. If euer thou bee'st bound

1131in thy skarfe and beaten, thou shall finde what it is to be

1132proud of thy bondage, I haue a desire to holde my ac-

1133quaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I

1134may say in the default, he is a man I know.

1135Par My Lord you do me most insupportable vexati-

1136on.

1137Laf I would it were hell paines for thy sake, and my

1138poore doing eternall: for doing I am past, as I will by

1139thee, in what motion age will giue me leaue. Exit

1140Par Well, thou hast a sonne shall take this disgrace

1141off me; scuruy, old, filthy, scuruy Lord: Well, I must

1142be patient, there is no fettering of authority. Ile beate

1143him (by my life) if I can meete him with any conueni-

1144ence, and he were double and double a Lord. Ile haue

1145no more pittie of his age then I would haue of------ Ile

1146beate him, and if I could but meet him agen.

1148Laf Sirra, your Lord and masters married, there's

1149newes for you: you haue a new Mistris.

1150Par I most vnfainedly beseech your Lordshippe to

1151make some reseruation of your wrongs. He is my good

1152Lord, whom I serue aboue is my master.

1153Laf Who? God.

1154Par I sir.

1155Laf The deuill it is, that's thy master. Why dooest

1156thou garter vp thy armes a this fashion? Dost make hose

1157of thy sleeues? Do other seruants so? Thou wert best set

1158thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine Honor,

1159if I were but two houres yonger, I'de beate thee: mee-

1160think'st thou art a generall offence, and euery man shold

1161beate thee: I thinke thou wast created for men to breath

1162themselues vpon thee.

1163Par This is hard and vndeserued measure my Lord.

1164Laf Go too sir, you were beaten in Italyfor picking

1165a kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, and

1166no true traueller: you are more sawcie with Lordes and

1167honourable personages, then the Commission of your

1168birth and vertue giues you Heraldry. You are not worth

1169another word, else I'de call you knaue. I leaue you.

1172Par Good, very good, it is so then: good, very

1173good, let it be conceal'd awhile.

1174Ros Vndone, and forfeited to cares for euer.

1175Par What's the matter sweet-heart?

1176Rossill Although before the solemne Priest I haue

1177sworne, I will not bed her.

1178Par What? what sweet heart?

1179Ros O my Parrolles they haue married me:

1180Ile to the Tuscanwarres, and neuer bed her.

1181Par Franceis a dog-hole, and it no more merits,

1182The tread of a mans foot: too'th warres.

1183Ros There's letters from my mother: What th' im-

1184port is, I know not yet.

1185Par I that would be knowne: too'th warrs my boy,

1186too'th warres:

1187He weares his honor in a boxe vnseene,

1188That hugges his kickie wickie heare at home,

1189Spending his manlie marrow in her armes

1190Which should sustaine the bound and high curuet

1191Of Marsesfierie steed: to other Regions,

1192Franceis a stable, wee that dwell in't Iades,

1193Therefore too'th warre.

1194Ros It shall be so, Ile send her to my house,

1195Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,

1196And wherefore I am fled: Write to the King

1197That which I durst not speake. His present gift

1198Shall furnish me to those Italian fields

1199Where noble fellowes strike: Warres is no strife

1200To the darke house, and the detected wife.

1201Par Will this Caprichio hold in thee, art sure?

1202Ros Go with me to my chamber, and aduice me.

1203Ile send her straight away: To morrow,

1204Ile to the warres, she to her single sorrow.

1205Par Why these bals bound, ther's noise in it. Tis hard

1206A yong man maried, is a man that's mard:

1207Therefore away, and leaue her brauely: go,

1208The King ha's done you wrong: but hush 'tis so. Exit

1210Hel My mother greets me kindly, is she well?

1211Clo She is not well, but yet she has her health, she's

1212very merrie, but yet she is not well: but thankes be gi-

1213uen she's very well, and wants nothing i'th world: but

1214yet she is not well.

1215Hel If she be verie wel, what do's she ayle, that she's

1216not verie well?

1217Clo Truly she's very well indeed, but for two things

1218Hel What two things?

1219Clo One, that she's not in heauen, whether God send

1220her quickly: the other, that she's in earth, from whence

1221God send her quickly.

1223Par Blesse you my fortunate Ladie.

1224Hel I hope sir I haue your good will to haue mine

1225owne good fortune.

1226Par You had my prayers to leade them on, and to

1227keepe them on, haue them still. O my knaue, how do's

1228my old Ladie?

1229Clo So that you had her wrinkles, and I her money,

1230I would she did as you say.

1231Par Why I say nothing.

1232Clo Marry you are the wiser man: for many a mans

1233tongue shakes out his masters vndoing: to say nothing,

1234to do nothing, to know nothing, and to haue nothing,

1235is to be a great part of your title, which is within a verie

1236little of nothing.

1237Par Away, th'art a knaue.

1238Clo You should haue said sir before a knaue, th'art a

1239knaue, that's before me th'art a knaue: this had beene

1240truth sir.

1241Par Go too, thou art a wittie foole, I haue found

1242thee.

1243Clo Did you finde me in your selfe sir, or were you

1244taught to finde me?

1245Clo The search sir was profitable, and much Foole

1246may you find in you, euen to the worlds pleasure, and the

1247encrease of laughter.

1248Par A good knaue ifaith, and well fed.

1249Madam, my Lord will go awaie to night,

1250A verie serrious businesse call's on him:

1251The great prerogatiue and rite of loue,

1252Which as your due time claimes, he do's acknowledge,

1253But puts it off to a compell'd restraint:

1254Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets

1255Which they distill now in the curbed time,

1256To make the comming houre oreflow with ioy,

1257And pleasure drowne the brim.

1258Hel What's his will else?

1259Par That you will take your instant leaue a'th king,

1260And make this hast as your owne good proceeding,

1261Strengthned with what Apologie you thinke

1262May make it probable neede.

1263Hel What more commands hee?

1264Par That hauing this obtain'd, you presentlie

1265Attend his further pleasure.

1266Hel In euery thing I waite vpon his will.

1267Par I shall report it so. Exit Par

1268Hell I pray you come sirrah. Exit

1270Laf But I hope your Lordshippe thinkes not him a

1271souldier.

1272Ber Yes my Lord and of verie valiant approofe.

1273Laf You haue it from his owne deliuerance.

1274Ber And by other warranted testimonie.

1275Laf Then my Diall goes not true, I tooke this Larke

1276for a bunting.

1277Ber I do assure you my Lord he is very great in know-

1278ledge, and accordinglie valiant.

1279Laf I haue then sinn'd against his experience, and

1280transgrest against his valour, and my state that way is

1281dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent:

1282Heere he comes, I pray you make vs freinds, I will pur-

1283sue the amitie.

1285Par These things shall be done sir.

1286Laf Pray you sir whose his Tailor?

1287Par Sir?

1288Laf O I know him well, I sir, hee sirs a good worke-

1289man, a verie good Tailor.

1290Ber Is shee gone to the king?

1291Par Shee is.

1292Ber Will shee away to night?

1293Par As you'le haue her.

1294Ber I haue writ my letters, casketted my treasure,

1295Giuen order for our horses, and to night,

1296When I should take possession of the Bride,

1297And ere I doe begin.

1298Laf A good Trauailer is something at the latter end

1299of a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and vses a

1300known truth to passe a thousand nothings with, should

1301bee once hard, and thrice beaten. God saue you Cap-

1302taine.

1303Ber Is there any vnkindnes betweene my Lord and

1304you Monsieur?

1305Par I know not how I haue deserued to run into my

1306Lords displeasure.

1307Laf You haue made shift to run into't, bootes and

1308spurres and all: like him that leapt into the Custard, and

1309out of it you'le runne againe, rather then suffer question

1310for your residence.

1311Ber It may bee you haue mistaken him my Lord.

1312Laf And shall doe so euer, though I tooke him at's

1313prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeue this of

1314me, there can be no kernell in this light Nut: the soule

1315of this man is his cloathes: Trust him not in matter of

1316heauie consequence: I haue kept of them tame, & know

1317their natures. Farewell Monsieur, I haue spoken better

1318of you, then you haue or will to deserue at my hand, but

1319we must do good against euill.

1320Par An idle Lord, I sweare.

1321Ber I thinke so.

1322Par Why do you not know him?

1323Ber Yes, I do know him well, and common speech

1324Giues him a worthy passe. Heere comes my clog.

1326Hel I haue sir as I was commanded from you

1327Spoke with the King, and haue procur'd his leaue

1328For present parting, onely he desires

1329Some priuate speech with you.

1330Ber I shall obey his will.

1331You must not meruaile Helenat my course,

1332Which holds not colour with the time, nor does

1333The ministration, and required office

1334On my particular. Prepar'd I was not

1335For such a businesse, therefore am I found

1336So much vnsetled: This driues me to intreate you,

1337That presently you take your way for home,

1338And rather muse then aske why I intreate you,

1339For my respects are better then they seeme,

1340And my appointments haue in them a neede

1341Greater then shewes it selfe at the first view,

1342To you that know them not. This to my mother,

1343'Twill be two daies ere I shall see you, so

1344I leaue you to your wisedome.

1345Hel Sir, I can nothing say,

1346But that I am your most obedient seruant.

1347Ber Come, come, no more of that.

1348Hel And euer shall

1349With true obseruance seeke to eeke out that

1350Wherein toward me my homely starres haue faild

1351To equall my great fortune.

1352Ber Let that goe: my hast is verie great. Farwell:

1353Hie home.

1354Hel Pray sir your pardon.

1355Ber Well, what would you say?

1356Hel I am not worthie of the wealth I owe,

1357Nor dare I say 'tis mine: and yet it is,

1358But like a timorous theefe, most faine would steale

1359What law does vouch mine owne.

1360Ber What would you haue?

1361Hel Something, and scarse so much: nothing indeed,

1362I would not tell you what I would my Lord: Faith yes,

1363Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kisse.

1364Ber I pray you stay not, but in hast to horse.

1365Hel I shall not breake your bidding, good my Lord:

1366Where are my other men? Monsieur, farwell. Exit

1367Ber Go thou toward home, where I wil neuer come,

1368Whilst I can shake my sword, or heare the drumme:

1369Away, and for our flight.

1370Par Brauely, Coragio.

1374Duke So that from point to point, now haue you heard

1375The fundamentall reasons of this warre,

1376Whose great decision hath much blood let forth

1377And more thirsts after.

13781.Lord Holy seemes the quarrell

1379Vpon your Graces part: blacke and fearefull

1380On the opposer.

1381Duke Therefore we meruaile much our Cosin France

1382Would in so iust a businesse, shut his bosome

1383Against our borrowing prayers.

1384FrenchE Good my Lord,

1385The reasons of our state I cannot yeelde,

1386But like a common and an outward man,

1387That the great figure of a Counsaile frames,

1388By selfe vnable motion, therefore dare not

1389Say what I thinke of it, since I haue found

1390My selfe in my incertaine grounds to faile

1391As often as I guest.

1392Duke Be it his pleasure.

1393Fren.G But I am sure the yonger of our nature,

1394That surfet on their ease, will day by day

1395Come heere for Physicke.

1396Duke Welcome shall they bee:

1397And all the honors that can flye from vs,

1398Shall on them settle: you know your places well,

1399When better fall, for your auailes they fell,

1400To morrow to'th the field. Flourish

1402Count It hath happen'd all, as I would haue had it, saue

1403that he comes not along with her.

1404Clo By my troth I take my young Lord to be a ve-

1405rie melancholly man.

1406Count By what obseruance I pray you.

1407Clo Why he will looke vppon his boote, and sing:

1408mend the Ruffe and sing, aske questions and sing, picke

1409his teeth, and sing: I know a man that had this tricke of

1410melancholy hold a goodly Mannor for a song.

1411Lad Let me see what he writes, and when he meanes

1412to come.

1413Clow I haue no minde to Isbellsince I was at Court.

1414Our old Lings, and our Isbelsa'th Country, are nothing

1415like your old Ling and your Isbelsa'th Court: the brains

1416of my Cupid's knock'd out, and I beginne to loue, as an

1417old man loues money, with no stomacke.

1418Lad What haue we heere?

1419Clo In that you haue there. exit

1428This is not well rash and vnbridled boy,

1429To flye the fauours of so good a King,

1430To plucke his indignation on thy head,

1431By the misprising of a Maide too vertuous

1432For the contempt of Empire.

1434Clow O Madam, yonder is heauie newes within be-

1435tweene two souldiers, and my yong Ladie.

1436La What is the matter.

1437Clo Nay there is some comfort in the newes, some

1438comfort, your sonne will not be kild so soone as I thoght

1439he would.

1440La Why should he be kill'd?

1441Clo So say I Madame, if he runne away, as I heare he

1442does, the danger is in standing too't, that's the losse of

1443men, though it be the getting of children. Heere they

1444come will tell you more. For my part I onely heare your

1445sonne was run away.

1447FrenchE Saue you good Madam.

1448Hel Madam, my Lord is gone, for euer gone.

1449FrenchG Do not say so.

1450La Thinke vpon patience, pray you Gentlemen,

1451I haue felt so many quirkes of ioy and greefe,

1452That the first face of neither on the start

1453Can woman me vntoo't. Where is my sonne I pray you?

1454Fren.G Madam he's gone to serue the Duke of Flo-

1455 rence,

1456We met him thitherward, for thence we came:

1457And after some dispatch in hand at Court,

1458Thither we bend againe.

1459Hel Looke on his Letter Madam, here's my Pasport.

1464This is a dreadfull sentence.

1465La Brought you this Letter Gentlemen?

14661. G I Madam, and for the Contents sake are sorrie

1467for our paines.

1468Old La I prethee Ladie haue a better cheere,

1469If thou engrossest, all the greefes are thine,

1470Thou robst me of a moity: He was my sonne,

1471But I do wash his name out of my blood,

1472And thou art all my childe. Towards Florence is he?

1473Fren. G I Madam.

1474La And to be a souldier.

1475Fren. G Such is his noble purpose, and beleeu't

1476The Duke will lay vpon him all the honor

1477That good conuenience claimes.

1478La Returne you thither.

1479Fren. E I Madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.

1480Hel. Till I haue no wife, I haue nothing in France

1481'Tis bitter.

1482La Finde you that there?

1483Hel I Madame.

1484Fren. E 'Tis but the boldnesse of his hand haply, which

1485his heart was not consenting too.

1486Lad Nothing in France, vntill he haue no wife:

1487There's nothing heere that is too good for him

1488But onely she, and she deserues a Lord

1489That twenty such rude boyes might tend vpon,

1490And call her hourely Mistris. Who was with him?

1491Fren. E A seruant onely, and a Gentleman: which I

1492haue sometime knowne.

1493La Parolleswas it not?

1494Fren. E I my good Ladie, hee.

1495La A verie tainted fellow, and full of wickednesse,

1496My sonne corrupts a well deriued nature

1497With his inducement.

1498Fren. E Indeed good Ladie the fellow has a deale of

1499that, too much, which holds him much to haue.

1500La Y'are welcome Gentlemen, I will intreate you

1501when you see my sonne, to tell him that his sword can

1502neuer winne the honor that he looses: more Ile intreate

X you

1503you written to beare along.

1504Fren. G We serue you Madam in that and all your

1505worthiest affaires.

1506La Not so, but as we change our courtesies,

1507Will you draw neere? Exit

1508Hel.Till I haue no wife I haue nothing in France

1509Nothing in France vntill he has no wife:

1510Thou shalt haue none Rossillion none in France,

1511Then hast thou all againe: poore Lord, is't I

1512That chase thee from thy Countrie, and expose

1513Those tender limbes of thine, to the euent

1514Of the none-sparing warre? And is it I,

1515That driue thee from the sportiue Court, where thou

1516Was't shot at with faire eyes, to be the marke

1517Of smoakie Muskets? O you leaden messengers,

1518That ride vpon the violent speede of fire,

1519Fly with false ayme, moue the still-peering aire

1520That sings with piercing, do not touch my Lord:

1521Who euer shoots at him, I set him there.

1522Who euer charges on his forward brest

1523I am the Caitiffe that do hold him too't,

1524And though I kill him not, I am the cause

1525His death was so effected: Better 'twere

1526I met the rauine Lyon when he roar'd

1527With sharpe constraint of hunger: better 'twere,

1528That all the miseries which nature owes

1529Were mine at once. No come thou home Rossillion

1530Whence honor but of danger winnes a scarre,

1531As oft it looses all. I will be gone:

1532My being heere it is, that holds thee hence,

1533Shall I stay heere to doo't? No, no, although

1534The ayre of Paradise did fan the house,

1535And Angels offic'd all: I will be gone,

1536That pittifull rumour may report my flight

1537To consolate thine eare. Come night, end day,

1538For with the darke (poore theefe) Ile steale away. Exit

1541Duke The Generall of our horse thou art, and we

1542Great in our hope, lay our best loue and credence

1543Vpon thy promising fortune.

1544Ber Sir it is

1545A charge too heauy for my strength, but yet

1546Wee'l striue to beare it for your worthy sake,

1547To th' extreme edge of hazard.

1548Duke Then go thou forth,

1549And fortune play vpon thy prosperous helme

1550As thy auspicious mistris.

1551Ber This very day

1552Great Mars I put my selfe into thy file,

1553Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall proue

1554A louer of thy drumme, hater of loue. Exeunt omnes

1556La Alas! and would you take the letter of her:

1557Might you not know she would do, as she has done,

1558By sending me a Letter. Reade it agen.

1574Ah what sharpe stings are in her mildest words?

1575Rynaldo you did neuer lacke aduice so much,

1576As letting her passe so: had I spoke with her,

1577I could haue well diuerted her intents,

1578Which thus she hath preuented.

1579Ste Pardon me Madam,

1580If I had giuen you this at ouer-night,

1581She might haue beene ore-tane: and yet she writes

1582Pursuite would be but vaine.

1583La What Angell shall

1584Blesse this vnworthy husband, he cannot thriue,

1585Vnlesse her prayers, whom heauen delights to heare

1586And loues to grant, repreeue him from the wrath

1587Of greatest Iustice. Write, write Rynaldo

1588To this vnworthy husband of his wife,

1589Let euerie word waigh heauie of her worrh,

1590That he does waigh too light: my greatest greefe,

1591Though little he do feele it, set downe sharpely.

1592Dispatch the most conuenient messenger,

1593When haply he shall heare that she is gone,

1594He will returne, and hope I may that shee

1595Hearing so much, will speede her foote againe,

1596Led hither by pure loue: which of them both

1597Is deerest to me, I haue no skill in sence

1598To make distinction: prouide this Messenger:

1599My heart is heauie, and mine age is weake,

1600Greefe would haue teares, and sorrow bids me speake.

1606Widdow Nay come,

1607For if they do approach the Citty,

1608We shall loose all the sight.

1609Diana They say, the French Count has done

1610Most honourable seruice.

1611Wid It is reported,

1612That he has taken their great'st Commander,

1613And that with his owne hand he slew

1614The Dukes brother: we haue lost our labour,

1615They are gone a contrarie way: harke,

1616you may know by their Trumpets.

1617Maria Come lets returne againe,

1618And suffice our selues with the report of it.

1619Well Diana take heed of this French Earle,

1620The honor of a Maide is her name,

1621And no Legacie is so rich

1622As honestie.

1623Widdow I haue told my neighbour

1624How you haue beene solicited by a Gentleman

1625His Companion.

1626Maria I know that knaue, hang him, one Parolles

1627a filthy Officer he is in those suggestions for the young

1628Earle, beware of them Diana their promises, entise-

1629ments, oathes, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are

1630not the things they go vnder: many a maide hath beene

1631seduced by them, and the miserie is example, that so

1632terrible shewes in the wracke of maiden-hood, cannot

1633for all that disswade succession, but that they are limed

1634with the twigges that threatens them. I hope I neede

1635not to aduise you further, but I hope your owne grace

1636will keepe you where you are, though there were no

1637further danger knowne, but the modestie which is so

1638lost.

1639Dia You shall not neede to feare me.

1641Wid I hope so: looke here comes a pilgrim, I know

1642she will lye at my house, thither they send one another,

1643Ile question her. God saue you pilgrim, whether are

1644bound?

1645Hel To S. Iaques la grand

1646Where do the Palmers lodge, I do beseech you?

1647Wid At the S[aint]. Francisheere beside the Port.

1648Hel Is this the way? A march afarre

1649Wid I marrie ist. Harke you, they come this way:

1650If you will tarrie holy Pilgrime

1651But till the troopes come by,

1652I will conduct you where you shall be lodg'd,

1653The rather for I thinke I know your hostesse

1654As ample as my selfe.

1655Hel Is it your selfe?

1656Wid If you shall please so Pilgrime.

1657Hel I thanke you, and will stay vpon your leisure.

1658Wid You came I thinke from France

1659Hel I did so.

1660Wid Heere you shall see a Countriman of yours

1661That has done worthy seruice.

1662Hel His name I pray you?

1663Dia The Count Rossillion know you such a one?

1664Hel But by the eare that heares most nobly of him:

1665His face I know not.

1666Dia What somere he is

1667He's brauely taken heere. He stole from France

1668As 'tis reported: for the King had married him

1669Against his liking. Thinke you it is so?

1670Hel I surely meere the truth, I know his Lady.

1671Dia There is a Gentleman that serues the Count,

1672Reports but coursely of her.

1673Hel What's his name?

1674Dia Monsieur Parrolles

1675Hel Oh I beleeue with him,

1676In argument of praise, or to the worth

1677Of the great Count himselfe, she is too meane

1678To haue her name repeated, all her deseruing

1679Is a reserued honestie, and that

1680I haue not heard examin'd.

1681Dian Alas poore Ladie,

1682'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife

1683Of a detesting Lord.

1684Wid I write good creature, wheresoere she is,

1685Her hart waighes sadly: this yong maid might do her

1686A shrewd turne if she pleas'd.

1687Hel How do you meane?

1688May be the amorous Count solicites her

1689In the vnlawfull purpose.

1690Wid He does indeede,

1691And brokes with all that can in such a suite

1692Corrupt the tender honour of a Maide:

1693But she is arm'd for him, and keepes her guard

1694In honestest defence.

1697Mar The goddes forbid else.

1698Wid So, now they come:

1699That is Anthoniothe Dukes eldest sonne,

1700That Escalus

1701Hel Which is the Frenchman?

1702Dia Hee,

1703That with the plume, 'tis a most gallant fellow,

1704I would he lou'd his wife: if he were honester

1705He were much goodlier. Is't not a handsom Gentleman

1706Hel I like him well.

1707Di 'Tis pitty he is not honest: yonds that same knaue

1708That leades him to these places: were I his Ladie,

1709I would poison that vile Rascall.

1710Hel Which is he?

1711Dia That Iacke-an-apes with scarfes. Why is hee

1712melancholly?

1713Hel Perchance he's hurt i'th battaile.

1714Par Loose our drum? Well.

1715Mar He's shrewdly vext at something. Looke he

1716has spyed vs.

1717Wid Marrie hang you.

1718Mar And your curtesie, for a ring-carrier.

1719Wid The troope is past: Come pilgrim, I wil bring

1720you, Where you shall host: Of inioyn'd penitents

1721There's foure or fiue, to great S. Iaquesbound,

1722Alreadie at my house.

1723Hel I humbly thanke you:

1724Please it this Matron, and this gentle Maide