5In delivering my son from me, I bury a 6second husband.

And I in going, madam, weep o'er my 8father's death anew, but I must attend his 9majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore 10in subjection.

You shall find of the King a husband, madam; 12you, sir, a father. He, that so generally is at all times good, 13must of necessity hold his virtue to you, whose 14worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather than lack 15it where there is such abundance.

What hope is there of his majesty's amendment?

He hath abandoned his physicians, madam, 18under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope 19and finds no other advantage in the process, but only 20the losing of hope by time.

This young gentlewoman had a father -- oh, that 22 "had", how sad a passage 'tis! -- whose skill was almost as 23great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have 24made nature immortal and death should have play for 25lack of work. Would for the King's sake he were li26ving! I think it would be the death of the King's disease.

How called you the man you speak of, madam?

He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was 29his great right to be so: Gérard de Narbonne.

He was excellent indeed, madam. The King very 31lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly. He 32was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could 33be set up against mortality.

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

A fistula, my lord.

I heard not of it before.

I would it were not notorious. -- Was this gen39tlewoman the daughter of

Gérard de Narbonne?

His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my 41overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that her 42education promises; her dispositions she inherits, which 43makes fair gifts fairer. For where an unclean mind 44carries virtuous qualities, there commendations go with 45pity: they are virtues and traitors too. In her, they are 46the better for their simpleness; she derives her honesty 47and achieves her goodness.

Your commendations, madam, get from her 49tears.

'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise 51in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her 52heart, but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood 53from her cheek. -- No more of this, Helen, go to, no 54more, lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow than 55to have --

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

Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead; 58excessive grief, the enemy to the living.

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

Madam, I desire your holy wishes.

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

Be thou blessed, Bertram, and succeed thy father

1.1.2364In manners as in shape. Thy blood and virtue

1.1.2465Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness

1.1.2566Share with thy birthright. Love all, trust a few,

1.1.2667Do wrong to none. Be able for thine enemy

1.1.2768Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend

1.1.2869Under thy own life's key. Be checked for silence,

1.1.2970But never taxed for speech. What heaven more will,

1.1.3071That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down,

1.1.3172Fall on thy head. -- [To Lafeu] Farewell, my lord.

1.1.3273'Tis an unseasoned courtier, good my lord.

1.1.3374Advise him.

Advise him. He cannot want the best

1.1.3476That shall attend his love.

That shall attend his love. Heaven bless him.

1.1.35-- Farewell, Bertram.

[To Helen] The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts 79be servants to you. Be comfortable to my mother, your 80mistress, and make much of her.

Farewell, pretty lady. You must hold the 82credit of your father.

Oh, were that all! I think not on my father

1.1.3984And these great tears grace his remembrance more

1.1.4085Than those I shed for him. What was he like?

1.1.4186I have forgot him. My imagination

1.1.4287Carries no favor in't but Bertram's.

1.1.4388I am undone. There is no living, none,

1.1.4489If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one,

1.1.4590That I should love a bright particular star

1.1.4691And think to wed it, he is so above me.

1.1.4792In his bright radiance and collateral light

1.1.4893Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.

1.1.4994Th'ambition in my love thus plagues itself.

1.1.5095The hind that would be mated by the lion

1.1.5196Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague,

1.1.5297To see him every hour, to sit and draw

1.1.5398His archèd brows, his hawking eye, his curls

1.1.5499In our heart's table -- heart too capable

1.1.55100Of every line and trick of his sweet favor.

1.1.56101But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy

1.1.57102Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?

1.1.58104One that goes with him. I love him for his sake.

1.1.59105And yet I know him a notorious liar,

1.1.60106Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;

1.1.61107Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him

1.1.62108That they take place when virtue's steely bones

1.1.63109Looks bleak i'th'cold wind. Withal, full oft we see

1.1.64110Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.

Save you, fair queen.

And you, monarch.

No.

And no.

Are you meditating on virginity?

Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you. Let 117me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity. 118How may we barricado it against him?

Keep him out.

But he assails and our virginity, though 121valiant, in the defence yet is weak. Unfold to us some warlike 122resistance.

There is none. Man, setting down before you, 124will undermine you and blow you up.

Bless our poor virginity from underminers 126and blowers up! Is there no military policy how 127virgins might blow up men?

Virginity being blown down, man will 129quicklier be blown up. Marry, in blowing him down 130again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your 131city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of 132nature to preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is 133rational increase, and there was never virgin got till 134virginity was first lost. That you were made of is 135metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, 136may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever 137lost. 'Tis too cold a companion. Away with't!

I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die 139a virgin.

There's little can be said in't; 'tis against the 141rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity is 142to accuse your mothers, which is most infallible 143disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: 144virginity murders itself, and should be buried in highways, 145out of all sanctified limit as a desperate offendress 146against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a 147cheese, consumes itself to the very paring, and so 148dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, 149virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which 150is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not, 151you cannot choose but lose by't. Out with't! Within 152ten year it will make itself two, which is a goodly 153increase, and the principal itself not much the 154worse. Away with't!

How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own 156liking?

Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er 158it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying. 159The longer kept, the less worth. Off with't while 'tis 160vendible. Answer the time of request. Virginity, 161like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion, richly 162suited, but unsuitable, just like the brooch and the 163toothpick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your 164pie and your porridge than in your cheek, and your 165virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French 166withered pears. It looks ill, it eats dryly -- marry, 'tis a 167withered pear. It was formerly better, marry, yet 'tis a 168withered pear! Will you anything with it?

Not my virginity yet.

1.1.81170There shall your master have a thousand loves:

1.1.82171A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,

1.1.83172A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,

1.1.84173A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,

1.1.85174A counselor, a traitress, and a dear;

1.1.86175His humble ambition, proud humility;

1.1.87176His jarring, concord; and his discord, dulcet;

1.1.88177His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world

1.1.89178Of pretty fond adoptious christendoms

1.1.90179That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he --

1.1.91180I know not what he shall. God send him well!

1.1.92181The court's a learning place, and he is one --

What one, i'faith?

That I wish well. 'Tis pity.

What's pity?

That wishing well had not a body in't,

1.1.97186Which might be felt, that we, the poorer born,

1.1.98187Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,

1.1.99188Might with effects of them follow our friends

1.1.100189And show what we alone must think, which never

1.1.101190Returns us thanks.

Monsieur Paroles, 193my lord calls for you.

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

Monsieur Paroles, you were born under a 197charitable star.

Under Mars, I.

I especially think under Mars.

Why 'under' Mars?

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

When he was predominant.

When he was retrograde, I think rather.

Why think you so?

You go so much backward when you fight.

That's for advantage.

So is running away 209when fear proposes the safety. 210But the composition that your valor and fear makes 211in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the 212wear well.

I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer 214thee acutely. I will return perfect courtier, in the 215which my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so 216thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel and 217understand what advice shall thrust upon thee, else thou 218diest in thine unthankfulnes and thine ignorance makes 219thee away. Farewell. When thou hast leisure, say thy 220prayers: when thou hast none, remember thy friends. 221Get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee. 222So, farewell.

Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,

1.1.116224Which we ascribe to heaven. The fated sky

1.1.117225Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull

1.1.118226Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.

1.1.119227What power is it which mounts my love so high,

1.1.120228That makes me see and cannot feed mine eye?

1.1.121229The mightiest space in fortune, nature brings

1.1.122230To join like likes and kiss like native things.

1.1.123231Impossible be strange attempts to those

1.1.124232That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose

1.1.125233What hath been cannot be. Who ever strove

1.1.126234To show her merit that did miss her love? --

1.1.127235The king's disease! My project may deceive me,

1.1.128236But my intents are fixed and will not leave me.

The Florentines and Senois are by th'ears,

1.2.2241Have fought with equal fortune, and continue

1.2.3242A braving war.

A braving war. So 'tis reported, sir.

Nay, 'tis most credible. We here receive it

1.2.5245A certainty vouched from our cousin Austria,

1.2.6246With caution that the Florentine will move us

1.2.7247For speedy aid, wherein our dearest friend

1.2.8248Prejudicates the business and would seem

1.2.9249To have us make denial.

To have us make denial. His love and wisdom,

1.2.10251Approved so to your majesty, may plead

1.2.11252For amplest credence.

For amplest credence. He hath armed our answer,

1.2.12254And Florence is denied before he comes.

1.2.13255Yet for our gentlemen that mean to see

1.2.14256The Tuscan service, freely have they leave

1.2.15257To stand on either part.

To stand on either part. It well may serve

1.2.16259A nursery to our gentry, who are sick

1.2.17260For breathing and exploit.

For breathing and exploit. What's he comes here.

It is the Count Roussillon, my good lord,

1.2.19264Young Bertram.

Young Bertram. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;

1.2.20266Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,

1.2.21267Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts

1.2.22268Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.

My thanks and duty are your majesty's.

I would I had that corporal soundness now

1.2.25271As when thy father and myself in friendship

1.2.26272First tried our soldiership. He did look far

1.2.27273Into the service of the time, and was

1.2.28274Discipled of the bravest. He lasted long,

1.2.29275But on us both did haggish age steal on

1.2.30276And wore us out of act. It much repairs me

1.2.31277To talk of your good father. In his youth

1.2.32278He had the wit which I can well observe

1.2.33279Today in our young lords, but they may jest

1.2.34280Till their own scorn return to them unnoted

1.2.35281Ere they can hide their levity in honor.

1.2.36282So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness

1.2.37283Were in his pride, or sharpness; if they were,

1.2.38284His equal had awaked them, and his honor,

1.2.39285Clock to itself, knew the true minute when

1.2.40286Exception bid him speak, and at this time

1.2.41287His tongue obeyed his hand. Who were below him,

1.2.42288He used as creatures of another place

1.2.43289And bowed his eminent top to their low ranks,

1.2.44290Making them proud of his humility,

1.2.45291In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man

1.2.46292Might be a copy to these younger times,

1.2.47293Which, followed well, would demonstrate them now

1.2.48294But goers backward.

But goers backward. His good remembrance, sir,

1.2.49296Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb.

1.2.50297So in approof lives not his epitaph

1.2.51298As in your royal speech.

Would I were with him! He would always say --

1.2.53300Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words

1.2.54301He scattered not in ears, but grafted them

1.2.55302To grow there and to bear -- "Let me not live" --

1.2.56303This his good melancholy oft began

1.2.57304On the catastrophe and heel of pastime

1.2.58305When it was out: "Let me not live," quoth he,

1.2.59306"After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff

1.2.60307Of younger spirits whose apprehensive senses

1.2.61308All but new things disdain; whose judgements are

1.2.62309Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies

1.2.63310Expire before their fashions." This he wished.

1.2.64311I, after him, do after him wish too,

1.2.65312Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home,

1.2.66313I quickly were dissolvèd from my hive

1.2.67314To give some laborers room.

To give some laborers room. You're loved, sir.

1.2.68316They that least lend it you shall lack you first.

I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, Count,

1.2.70318Since the physician at your father's died?

1.2.71319He was much famed.

He was much famed. Some six months since, my lord.

If he were living, I would try him yet.

1.2.73322Lend me an arm. The rest have worn me out

1.2.74323With several applications. Nature and sickness

1.2.75324Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, Count,

1.2.76325My son's no dearer.

My son's no dearer. Thank your majesty.

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

Madam, the care I have had to even your 332content, I wish might be found in the calendar of my past 333endeavors, for then we wound our modesty and make 334foul the clearness of our deservings when of ourselves 335we publish them.

What does this knave here? -- [To Clown] Get you gone, 337sirrah. The complaints I have heard of you I do not all 338believe. 'Tis my slowness that I do not, for I know you 339lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough 340to make such knaveries yours.

'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor 342fellow.

Well, sir?

No, madam, 345'tis not so well that I am poor, though many 346of the rich are damned, but if I may have your ladyship's 347good will to go to the world, Isbel the woman and I 348will do as we may.

Wilt thou needs be a beggar?

I do beg your good will in this case.

In what case?

In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no 353heritage, and I think I shall never have the blessing of God 354till I have issue o'my body, for they say bairns are 355blessings.

Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry?

My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven 358on by the flesh, and he must needs go that the devil 359drives.

Is this all your worship's reason?

Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as 362they are.

May the world know them?

I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you 365and all flesh and blood are, and indeed I do marry that 366I may repent.

Thy marriage sooner than thy wickedness.

I am out o'friends, madam, and I hope to have 369friends for my wife's sake.

Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

You're shallow, madam, in great friends, for the 372knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. 373He that ears my land spares my team, and gives me 374leave to in the crop. If I be his cuckold he's my 375drudge. He that comforts my wife is the cherisher of 376my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh and 377blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves 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 fear in marriage, for young Charbon the 381puritan, and old Poisson the papist, howsome'er their 382hearts are severed in religion, their heads are both one. 383They may jowl horns together like any deer i'th' herd.

Wilt thou ever be a foulmouthed and 385calumnious knave?

A prophet, I, madam, and I speak the truth the 387next way:

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

May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen 392come to you? Of her I am to speak.

[To Clown] Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with 394her, Helen I mean.

What? One good in ten? You corrupt the song, 403sirrah.

One good woman in ten, madam, which is a 405purifying o'th'song. Would God would serve the world so 406all the year! We'd find no fault with the tithe-woman, 407if I were the parson. One in ten, quotha? And we might 408have a good woman born but o'er every blazing star 409or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well! A 410man may draw his heart out ere a pluck one.

You'll begone, sir knave, and do as I 412command you!

That man should be at woman's command, and 414yet no hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet 415it will do no hurt: it will wear the surplice of humility 416over the black gown of a big heart. I am 417going, forsooth! The business is for Helen to come hither.

Well, now.

I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman 421entirely.

Faith, I do. Her father bequeathed her to me, 423and she herself, without other advantage, may 424lawfully make title to as much love as she finds. There is 425more owing her than is paid, and more shall be paid 426her than she'll demand.

Madam, I was very late more near her 428thanI think she wished me. Alone she was, and did 429communicate to herself her own words to her 430own ears. She thought, I dare vow for her, they 431touched not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she 432loved your son. Fortune, she said, was no 433goddess, that had put such difference betwixt their two 434estates; love no god, that would not extend his might 435only where qualities were level; Dian no queen of 436virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surprised 437without rescue in the first assault or ransom 438afterward: This she delivered in the most bitter touch of 439sorrow that e'erI heard virgin exclaim in, which I held 440my duty speedily to acquaint you withal, sithence in 441the loss that may happen, it concerns you something 442to know it.

You have discharged this honestly. Keep it 444to yourself. Many likelihoods informed me of this 445before, which hung so tottering in the balance, that 446I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, 447leave me. Stall this in your bosom, and I thank 448you for your honest care. I will speak with you 449further anon.

E'en so it was with me when I was young.

1.3.50452If ever we are nature's, these are ours. This thorn

1.3.51453Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong.

1.3.52454Our blood to us, this to our blood is born;

1.3.53455It is the show and seal of nature's truth,

1.3.54456Where love's strong passion is impressed in youth

1.3.55457By our remembrances of days foregone,

1.3.56458Such were our faults, or then we thought them none,

1.3.57459Her eye is sick on't. I observe her now.

What is your pleasure, madam?

You know, Helen, I am a mother to you.

Mine honorable mistress.

Mine honorable mistress. Nay, a mother,

1.3.61Why not a mother? When I 464said "a mother"

1.3.62465Methought you saw a serpent. What's in "mother"

1.3.63466That you start at it? I say I am your mother,

1.3.64467And put you in the catalogue of those

1.3.65468That were enwombèd mine. 'Tis often seen

1.3.66469Adoption strives with nature, and choice breeds

1.3.67470A native slip to us from foreign seeds.

1.3.68471You ne'er oppressed me with a mother's groan;

1.3.69472Yet I express to you a mother's care.

1.3.70473God's mercy, maiden! Does it curd thy blood

1.3.71474To say I am thy mother? [Helen weeps.] What's the matter,

1.3.72475That this distempered messenger of wet

1.3.73476The many-colored Iris, rounds thine eye?

1.3.74477-- Why, that you are my daughter?

-- Why, that you are my daughter? That I am not.

I say I am your mother.

I say I am your mother. Pardon, madam,

1.3.76481The Count Roussillon cannot be my brother.

1.3.77482I am from humble, he from honored name;

1.3.78483No note upon my parents, his all noble,

1.3.79484My master, my dear lord he is, and I

1.3.80485His servant live, and will his vassal die.

1.3.81486He must not be my brother!

He must not be my brother! Nor I your mother?

You are my mother, madam! Would you were,

1.3.83489So that my lord your son were not my brother --

1.3.84490Indeed my mother! Or were you both our mothers,

1.3.85491I care no more for than I do for heaven,

1.3.86492So I were not his sister! Can't no other

1.3.87493But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?

Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law.

1.3.89495God shield you mean it not, "daughter" and "mother"

1.3.90496So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again?

1.3.91497My fear hath catched your fondness! Now I see

1.3.92498The mystery of your loneliness and find

1.3.93499Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross:

1.3.94500You love my son. Invention is ashamed

1.3.95501Against the proclamation of thy passion

1.3.96502To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true,

1.3.97503But tell me then 'tis so, for look, thy cheeks

1.3.98504Confess it t'one to th' other, and thine eyes

1.3.99505See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors

1.3.100506That in their kind they speak it. Only sin

1.3.101507And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,

1.3.102508That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so?

1.3.103509If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew:

1.3.104510If it be not, forswear't. Howe'er, I charge thee,

1.3.105511As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,

1.3.106512To tell me truly.

To tell me truly. Good madam, pardon me!

Do you love my son?

Do you love my son? Your pardon, noble mistress!

Love you my son?

Love you my son? Do not you love him, madam?

Go not about. My love hath in't a bond

1.3.110519Whereof the world takes note. Come, come, disclose

1.3.111520The state of your affection, for your passions

1.3.112521Have to the full appeached.

Have to the full appeached. Then I confess

1.3.113523Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,

1.3.114524That, before you and next unto high heaven,

1.3.115I love your 525son.

1.3.116526My friends were poor but honest; so's my love.

1.3.117527Be not offended, for it hurts not him

1.3.118528That he is loved of me. I follow him not

1.3.119529By any token of presumptuous suit,

1.3.120530Nor would I have him till I do deserve him,

1.3.121531Yet never know how that desert should be.

1.3.122532I know I love in vain, strive against hope.

1.3.123533Yet in this captious and intenible sieve

1.3.124534I still pour in the waters of my love

1.3.125535And lack not to lose still. Thus. Indian-like

1.3.126536Religious in mine error, I adore

1.3.127537The sun, that looks upon his worshipper

1.3.128538But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,

1.3.129539Let not your hate encounter with my love

1.3.130540For loving where you do, but if yourself,

1.3.131541Whose agèd honor cites a virtuous youth,

1.3.132542Did ever in so true a flame of liking

1.3.133543Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian

1.3.134544Was both herself and love, oh then give pity

1.3.135545To her whose state is such that cannot choose

1.3.136546But lend and give where she is sure to lose;

1.3.138547That seeks not to find that her search implies,

1.3.139548But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies.

Had you not lately an intent, speak truly,

1.3.141550To go to Paris?

To go to Paris? Madam, I had.

To go to Paris? Madam, I had. Wherefore? Tell true.

I will tell truth, by grace itself I swear!

1.3.143554You know my father left me some prescriptions

1.3.144555Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading

1.3.145556And manifest experience had collected

1.3.146557For general sovereignty, and that he willed me

1.3.147558In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them

1.3.148559As notes, whose faculties inclusive were,

1.3.149560More than they were in note. Amongst the rest,

1.3.150561There is a remedy, approved, set down

1.3.151562To cure the desperate languishings whereof

1.3.152563The King is rendered lost.

This was your motive for Paris, was it? Speak!

My lord your son made me to think of this;

1.3.155566Else Paris and the medicine and the King

1.3.156567Had from the conversation of my thoughts

1.3.157568Happily been absent then.

Happily been absent then. But think you, Helen,

1.3.158570If you should tender your supposèd aid,

1.3.159571He would receive it? He and his physicians

1.3.160572Are of a mind: he, that they cannot help him;

1.3.161573They, that they cannot help. How shall they credit

1.3.162574A poor unlearnèd virgin, when the schools,

1.3.163575Emboweled of their doctrine, have left off

1.3.164576The danger to itself?

The danger to itself? There's something in't,

1.3.165578More than my father's skill, which was the great'st

1.3.166579Of his profession, that his good receipt

1.3.167580Shall for my legacy be sanctified

1.3.168581By th'luckiest stars in heaven, and would your honor

1.3.169582But give me leave to try success, I'd venture

1.3.170583The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure

1.3.171584By such a day, an hour.

By such a day, an hour. Dost thou believe't?

Ay, madam, knowingly.

Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love,

1.3.174588Means and attendants, and my loving greetings

1.3.175589To those of mine in court. I'll stay at home

1.3.176590And pray God's blessing into thy attempt.

1.3.177591Begone tomorrow, and be sure of this:

1.3.178592What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss.

[Addressing the assembled Lords] Farewell, young lords. These warlike principles

2.1.2598Do not throw from you. -- [To 1 Lord and 2 Lord] And you, my lords, farewell.

2.1.3599Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all

2.1.4600The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received,

2.1.5601And is enough for both.

And is enough for both. 'Tis our hope sir,

2.1.6603After well entered soldiers, to return

2.1.7604And find your grace in health.

No, no, it cannot be. And yet my heart

2.1.9606Will not confess he owes the malady

2.1.10607That doth my life besiege. -- Farewell, young lords.

2.1.11608Whether I live or die, be you the sons

2.1.12609Of worthy Frenchmen. Let higher Italy

2.1.13610(Those bated that inherit but the fall

2.1.14611Of the last monarchy) see that you come

2.1.15612Not to woo honor, but to wed it, when

2.1.16613The bravest questant shrinks. Find what you seek,

2.1.17614That fame may cry you loud. I say farewell.

Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty.

Those girls of Italy, take heed of them:

2.1.20617They say our French lack language to deny

2.1.21618If they demand. Beware of being captives

2.1.22619Before you serve.

Before you serve. Our hearts receive your warnings.

Farewell. -- [To Attendants] Come hither to me.

[To Bertram] O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!

'Tis not his fault, the spark.

'Tis not his fault, the spark. Oh, 'tis brave wars!

Most admirable! I have seen those wars.

I am commanded here, and kept a coil with

2.1.28627"Too young" and "The next year" and "'Tis too early."

An thy mind stand to't, 629boy, steal away bravely.

I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,

2.1.31631Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry

2.1.32632Till honor be bought up and no sword worn

2.1.33633But one to dance with. By heaven, I'll steal away!

There's honor in the theft.

There's honor in the theft. Commit it, count.

I am your accessory, and so farewell.

I am your accessory, and so farewell. I grow to you,

2.1.36 And our parting is a tortured body.

Farewell, captain.

Farewell, captain. Sweet Monsieur Paroles.

2.1.38640Paroles [To the departing Lords]

Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. 641Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals. You 642shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain 643Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on 644his sinister cheek. It was this very sword entrenched it. [He indicates his weapon.] 645Say to him I live, and observe his reports for me.

We shall, noble captain.

Mars dote on you for his novices!

2.1.41 [To Bertram]--What will 648ye do?

Stay the king.

Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble 651lords: you have restrained yourself within the list of 652too cold an adieu. Be more expressive to them, for they 653wear themselves in the cap of the time; there do muster 654true gait; eat, speak, and move under the influence of 655the most received star; and, though the devil lead the 656measure, such are to be followed. After them, and take a 657more dilated farewell.

And I will do so.

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

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

I'll fee thee to stand up.

[Stands]Then here's a man stands that has brought his pardon.

2.1.49665I would you had kneeled, my lord, to ask me mercy,

2.1.55666And that at my bidding you could so stand up.

I would I had, so I had broke thy pate

2.1.51668And asked thee mercy for't.

And asked thee mercy for't. Good faith, across!

2.1.52But, my good lord, 'tis 670thus:will you be cured

2.1.53Of your infirmity?

Of your infirmity? No.

Of your infirmity? No. Oh, will you eat

2.1.54 No grapes, my royal fox? 673Yes, but you will

My noble grapes, an if 674my royal fox

2.1.56Could reach them. I have seen a medicine

2.1.57675That's able to breathe life into a stone,

2.1.58676Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary

2.1.59677With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch

2.1.60678Is powerful to a-raise King Pépin, nay,

2.1.61679To give great Charlemagne a pen in 's hand

2.1.62680And write to her a love-line.

And write to her a love-line. What "her" is this?

Why, Doctor She! My lord, there's one arrived

2.1.64683If you will see her. Now, by my faith and honor,

2.1.65684If seriously I may convey my thoughts.

2.1.66685In this my light deliverance, I have spoke

2.1.67686With one that, in her sex, her years, profession,

2.1.68687Wisdom, and constancy, hath amazed me more

2.1.69688Than I dare blame my weakness. Will you see her --

2.1.70689For that is her demand -- and know her business?

2.1.71690That done, laugh well at me.

That done, laugh well at me. Now, good Lafeu,

2.1.72692Bring in the admiration, that we with thee

2.1.73693May spend our wonder too, or take off thine

2.1.74694By wondering how thou took'st it.

By wondering how thou took'st it. Nay, I'll fit you,

2.1.75696And not be all day neither.

[Aside] Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.

[To Helen, still offstage] Nay, come your ways.

This haste hath wings indeed.

This haste hath wings indeed. Nay, come your ways,

2.1.79702This is his majesty; say your mind to him.

2.1.80703A traitor you do look like, but such traitors

2.1.81704His majesty seldom fears. I am Cressid's uncle,

2.1.82705That dare leave two together. Fare you well.

Now, fair one, does your business follow us?

Ay, my good 708lord. Gérard de Narbonne was my father;

2.1.85709In what he did profess, well found.

In what he did profess, well found. I knew him.

The rather will I spare my praises towards him:

2.1.87712Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death,

2.1.88713Many receipts he gave me, chiefly one

2.1.89714Which, as the dearest issue of his practice

2.1.90715And of his old experience th'only darling,

2.1.91716He bade me store up as a triple eye

2.1.92717Safer then mine own two; more dear I have so.

2.1.93718And, hearing your high majesty is touched

2.1.94719With that malignant cause wherein the honor

2.1.95720Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,

2.1.96721I come to tender it and my appliance

2.1.97722With all bound humbleness.

With all bound humbleness. We thank you, maiden,

2.1.98724But may not be so credulous of cure

2.1.99725When our most learnèd doctors leave us and

2.1.100726The congregated college have concluded

2.1.101727That laboring art can never ransom nature

2.1.102728From her inaidable estate. I say we must not

2.1.103729So stain our judgment or corrupt our hope

2.1.104730To prostitute our past-cure malady

2.1.105731To empirics, or to dissever so

2.1.106732Our great self and our credit to esteem

2.1.107733A senseless help, when help past sense we deem.

My duty, then, shall pay me for my pains.

2.1.109735I will no more enforce mine office on you,

2.1.110736Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts,

2.1.111737A modest one to bear me back again.

I cannot give thee less, to be called grateful.

2.1.113739Thou thoughtst to help me, and such thanks I give,

2.1.114740As one near death to those that wish him live.

2.1.115741But what at full I know, thou knowst no part,

2.1.116742I knowing all my peril, thou no art.

What I can do can do no hurt to try,

2.1.118744Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy.

2.1.119745He that of greatest works is finisher

2.1.120746Oft does them by the weakest minister:

2.1.121747So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown,

2.1.122748When judges have been babes; great floods have flown

2.1.123749From simple sources: and great seas have dried

2.1.124750When miracles have by the great'st been denied.

2.1.125751Oft expectation fails, and most oft there

2.1.126752Where most it promises, and oft it hits,

2.1.127753Where hope is coldest and despair most shifts.

I must not hear thee. Fare thee well, kind maid.

2.1.129755Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid:

2.1.130756Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.

Inspirèd merit so by breath is barred.

2.1.132758It is not so with him that all things knows

2.1.133759As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows.

2.1.134760But most it is presumption in us when

2.1.135761The help of heaven we count the act of men.

2.1.136762Dear sir, to my endeavors give consent:

2.1.137763Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.

2.1.138764I am not an impostor that proclaim

2.1.139765Myself against the level of mine aim,

2.1.140766But know I think, and think I know most sure,

2.1.141767My art is not past power, nor you past cure.

Art thou so confident? Within what space

2.1.143769Hop'st thou my cure?

Hop'st thou my cure? The greatest grace lending grace,

2.1.144771Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring

2.1.145772Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring,

2.1.146773Ere twice in murk and occidental damp

2.1.147774Moist Hesperus hath quenched her sleepy lamp,

2.1.148775Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass

2.1.149776Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass,

2.1.150777What is infirm, from your sound parts shall fly,

2.1.151778Health shall live free, and sickness freely die.

Upon thy certainty and confidence,

2.1.153780What dar'st thou venture?

What dar'st thou venture? Tax of impudence,

2.1.154782A strumpet's boldness, a divulgèd shame

2.1.155783Traduced by odious ballads; my maiden's name

2.1.156784Seared otherwise -- nay, worse of worst, extended

2.1.157785With vilest torture, let my life be ended.

Methinks in thee some blessèd spirit doth speak

2.1.159787His powerful sound within an organ weak,

2.1.160788And what impossibility would slay

2.1.161789In commonsense, sense saves another way.

2.1.162790Thy life is dear, for all that life can rate

2.1.163791Worth name of life in thee hath estimate:

2.1.164792Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all

2.1.165793That happiness and prime can happy call.

2.1.166794Thou this to hazard needs must intimate

2.1.167795Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate.

2.1.168796Sweet practicer, thy physic I will try,

2.1.169797That ministers thine own death if I die.

If I break time, or flinch in property

2.1.171799Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,

2.1.172800And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee.

2.1.173801But if I help, what do you promise me.

Make thy demand.

Make thy demand. But will you make it even?

Ay, by my scepter and my hopes of help.

Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand

2.1.177806What husband in thy power I will command.

2.1.178807Exempted be from me the arrogance

2.1.179808To choose from forth the royal blood of France,

2.1.180809My low and humble name to propagate

2.1.181810With any branch or image of thy state;

2.1.182811But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know

2.1.183812Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.

Here is my hand; the premises observed,

2.1.185814Thy will by my performance shall be served.

2.1.186815So make the choice of thy own time, for I,

2.1.187816Thy resolvèd patient, on thee still rely.

2.1.188817More should I question thee, and more I must --

2.1.189818Though more to know could not be more to trust --

2.1.190819From whence thou cam'st, how tended on; but rest,

2.1.191820Unquestioned welcome, and undoubted blessed. --

2.1.192821[To Attendants] Give me some help here, ho!-- [To Helen] If thou proceed,

2.1.193822As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.

Come on, sir, I shall now put you to the height 826of your breeding.

I will show myself highly fed and lowly 828taught. I know my business is but to the court.

To the court? Why, what place make you 830special, when you put off that with such contempt? 'But to 831the court'!

Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any 833manners, he may easily put it off at court. He that cannot 834make a leg, put off 's cap, kiss his hand, and say 835nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and 836indeed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the 837court. But, for me, I have an answer will serve all men.

Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all 839questions.

It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks: 841the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the 842brawn-buttock, or any buttock.

Will your answer serve fit to all questions?

As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an 845attorney, as your French crown for your taffety punk, as 846Tib's rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove 847Tuesday, a Morris for May Day, as the nail to his hole, 848the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding quean to a 849wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's mouth; 850nay, as the pudding to his skin.

Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for 852all questions?

From below your duke to beneath your 854constable, it will fit any question.

It must be an answer of most monstrous size 856that must fit all demands.

But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned 858should speak truth of it. Here it is, and all that belongs 859to't. Ask me if I am a courtier; it shall do you no 860harm to learn.

To be young again, if we could! I will be a 862fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your 864answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier?

Oh Lord, sir! -- There's a simple putting off. More, 866more, a hundred of them.

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

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

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

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

You were lately whipped, sir, as I think.

Oh Lord, sir! -- Spare not me.

Do you cry 'Oh Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and 875'Spare not me'? Indeed your 'Oh Lord, sir!' is very sequent 876to your whipping; you would answer very well to a 877whipping, if you were but bound to't.

I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'Oh Lord, 879sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever.

I play the noble housewife with the time, to 881entertain it so merrily with

a fool.

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

An end, sir. To your business: give Helen this, [Giving him a letter]

2.2.26884And urge her to a present answer back.

2.2.27885Commend me to my kinsmen, and my son. 886

2.2.28This is not much.

This is not much. Not much commendation to them?

Not much employment for you. You 889understand me?

Most fruitfully. I am there before my legs.

Haste you again.

They say miracles are past, and we have our 894philosophical persons to make modern and familiar 895things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we 896make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into 897seeming knowledge when we should submit ourselves to 898an unknown fear.

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

And so 'tis.

To be relinquished of the artists --

So I say, both of Galen and Paracelsus.

Of all the learned and authentic fellows --

Right, so I say.

That gave him out incurable --

Why, there 'tis; so say I too.

Not to be helped.

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

Uncertain life, and sure death.

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

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

It is indeed. If you will have it in showing, you 914shall read it in what-do-ye-call there.

A Showing of a Heavenly Effect in an 916Earthly Actor.

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

Why, your dolphin is not lustier. 'Fore me, 919I speak in respect --

Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange; that is the 921brief and the tedious of it. And he's of a most 922facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the --

Very hand of heaven.

Ay, so I say.

In a most weak --

And debile minister, great power, great 927transcendence, which should indeed give us a further use to 928be made than alone the recovery of the king, as to be --

Generally thankful.

I would have said it; you say well. -- Here comes 932the king.

Lustig, as the Dutchman says! I'll like a 934maid the better whilst I have a tooth in my head. Why, 935he's able to lead her a coranto.

Mort du vinaigre! Is not this Helen?

'Fore God, I think so.

[To Attendant] Go, call before me all the lords in court. --

2.3.30939[To Helen] Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side,

2.3.31940And with this healthful hand, whose banished sense

2.3.32941Thou hast repealed, a second time receive

2.3.33942The confirmation of my promised gift,

2.3.34943Which but attends thy naming.

2.3.35945Fair maid, send forth thine eye; this youthful parcel

2.3.36946Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,

2.3.37947O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice

2.3.38948I have to use. Thy frank election make;

2.3.39949Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.

To each of you, one fair and virtuous mistress

2.3.41951Fall when love please; marry, to each but one.

I'd give bay curtal and his furniture,

2.3.43953My mouth no more were broken than these boys,

2.3.44954And writ as little beard.

And writ as little beard. Peruse them well:

2.3.45956Not one of those but had a noble father.

Gentlemen, heaven hath through me restored

2.3.47959The king to health.

We understand it, and thank heaven for you.

I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest

2.3.50962That I protest I simply am a maid. --

2.3.51963[To the King] Please it your majesty, I have done already.

2.3.52964The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me,

2.3.53965"We blush that thou shouldst choose; but be refused,

2.3.54966Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever,

2.3.55967We'll ne'er come there again."

We'll ne'er come there again." Make choice and see.

2.3.56969Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.

Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,

2.3.58971And to Imperial Love, that god most high,

2.3.59972Do my sighs stream. [To 1 Young Lord] Sir, will you hear my suit?

And grant it.

And grant it. Thanks, sir, all the rest is mute.

I had rather be in this choice than throw 976ames-ace for my life.

[To 2 Young Lord.]The honor, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,

2.3.63978Before I speak, too threat'ningly replies.

2.3.64979Love make your fortunes twenty times above

2.3.65980Her that so wishes, and her humble love.

No better, if you please.

No better, if you please. My wish receive,

2.3.67983Which great love grant. And so I take my leave.

Do all they deny her? An they were sons 985of mine, I'd have them whipped, or I would send them 986to th' Turk to make eunuchs of.

[To 3 Young Lord] Be not afraid that I your hand should take:

2.3.70988I'll never do you wrong for your own sake.

2.3.71989Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed

2.3.72990Find fairer fortune if you ever wed.

These boys are boys of ice, they'll none 992have her. Sure they are bastards to the English: the 993French ne'er got 'em.

[To 4 Young Lord] You are too young, too happy, and too good

2.3.75995To make yourself a son out of my blood.

Fair one, I think not so.

There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father 998drunk wine. But if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth 999of fourteen: I have known thee already.

[To Bertram] I dare not say I take you, but I give

2.3.791001Me and my service, ever whilst I live,

2.3.801002Into your guiding power. -- [To the King] This is the man.

Why, then, young Bertram, take her: she's thy 1004wife.

My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your highness:

2.3.831006In such a business, give me leave to use

2.3.841007The help of mine own eyes.

The help of mine own eyes. Know'st thou not, Bertram,

2.3.85 What she has 1009done for me?

What she has done for me? Yes, my good lord,

2.3.86But never hope to know 1011why I should marry her.

Thou know'st she has raised me from my 1013sickly bed.

But follows it, my lord, to bring me down

2.3.891015Must answer for your raising? I know her well:

2.3.901016She had her breeding at my father's charge --

2.3.911017A poor physician's daughter my wife? Disdain

2.3.921018Rather corrupt me ever!

'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which

2.3.941020I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,

2.3.951021Of color, weight, and heat, poured all together,

2.3.961022Would quite confound distinction, yet stands off

2.3.971023In differences so mighty. If she be

2.3.981024All that is virtuous -- save what thou dislik'st,

2.3.991025"A poor physician's daughter" -- thou dislik'st

2.3.1001026Of virtue for the name. But do not so.

2.3.1011027From lowest place, whence virtuous things proceed,

2.3.1021028The place is dignified by th' doer's deed.

2.3.1031029Where great additions swell's, and virtue none,

2.3.1041030It is a dropsied honor. Good alone

2.3.1051031Is good without a name! Vileness is so.

2.3.1061032The property by what it is should go,

2.3.1071033Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair:

2.3.1081034In these to nature she's immediate heir,

2.3.1091035And these breed honor. That is honor's scorn

2.3.1101036Which challenges itself as honor's born

2.3.1111037And is not like the sire. Honors thrive

2.3.1121038When rather from our acts we them derive

2.3.1131039Than our foregoers. The mere word's a slave,

2.3.1141040Debauched on every tomb: on every grave,

2.3.1151041A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb

2.3.1161042Where dust and damned oblivion is the tomb

2.3.1171043Of honored bones indeed. What should be said?

2.3.1181044If thou canst like this creature as a maid,

2.3.1191045I can create the rest: virtue and she

2.3.1201046Is her own dower; honor and wealth, from me.

I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.

Thou wrong'st thyself if thou shouldst strive 1049to choose.

That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad;

2.3.1241051Let the rest go.

My honor's at the stake, which to defeat

2.3.1261053I must produce my power. -- [To Bertram] Here, take her hand.

2.3.1271054Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift,

2.3.1281055That dost in vile misprision shackle up

2.3.1291056My love and her desert; that canst not dream

2.3.1301057We, poising us in her defective scale,

2.3.1311058Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know

2.3.1321059It is in us to plant thine honor where

2.3.1331060We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt.

2.3.1341061Obey our will which travails in thy good.

2.3.1351062Believe not thy disdain, but presently

2.3.1361063Do thine own fortunes that obedient right,

2.3.1371064Which both thy duty owes and our power claims,

2.3.1381065Or I will throw thee from my care forever

2.3.1391066Into the staggers and the careless lapse

2.3.1401067Of youth and ignorance, both my revenge and hate,

2.3.1411068Loosing upon thee in the name of justice,

2.3.1421069Without all terms of pity. Speak, thine answer.

Pardon, my gracious lord, for I submit

2.3.1441071My fancy to your eyes. When I consider

2.3.1451072What great creation and what dole of honor

2.3.1461073Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late

2.3.1471074Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now

2.3.1481075The praised of the king; who so ennobled

2.3.1491076Is as 'twere born so.

Is as 'twere born so. Take her by the hand

2.3.1501078And tell her she is thine, to whom I promise

2.3.1511079A counterpoise; if not to thy estate,

2.3.1521080A balance more replete.

A balance more replete. I take her hand.

Good fortune and the favor of the king

2.3.1541083Smile upon this contract, whose ceremony

2.3.1551084Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief

2.3.1561085And be performed tonight; the solemn feast

2.3.1571086Shall more attend upon the coming space,

2.3.1581087Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her,

2.3.1591088Thy love's to me religious; else, does err.

Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.

Your pleasure, sir.

Your lord and master did well to make his 1094recantation.

Recantation? My lord? My master?

Ay; is it not a language I speak?

A most harsh one, and not to be understood 1098without bloody succeeding. My master?

Are you companion to the Count Roussillon?

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

To what is count's man. Count's master is of 1102another style.

You are too old, sir. Let it satisfy you, you are 1104too old.

I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man -- to which 1106title age cannot bring thee.

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

I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a 1109pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of 1110thy travel, it might pass. Yet the scarfs and the 1111bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from 1112believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now 1113found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not. Yet art 1114thou good for nothing but taking up, and that thou'rt 1115scarce worth.

Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity 1117upon thee --

Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest 1119thou hasten thy trial; which if -- Lord have mercy on 1120thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee 1121well. Thy casement I need not open, for I look through 1122thee. Give me thy hand.

My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.

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

I have not, my lord, deserved it.

Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it, and I will 1127not bate thee a scruple.

Well, I shall be wiser.

Ev'n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull 1130at a smack o' th' contrary. If ever thou be'st bound 1131in thy scarf and beaten, thou shall find what it is to be 1132proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my 1133acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I 1134may say in the default, 'He is a man I know.'

My lord, you do me most insupportable 1136vexation.

I would it were hell-pains for thy sake and my 1138poor doing eternal; for doing I am past, as I will by 1139thee in what motion age will give me leave.

Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace 1141off me -- scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must 1142be patient: there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat 1143him, by my life, if I can meet him with any 1144convenience, an he were double and double a lord. I'll have 1145no more pity of his age than I would have of -- I'll 1146beat him, an if I could but meet him again.

Sirrah, your lord and master's married. There's 1149news for you. You have a new mistress.

I most unfainedly beseech your lordship to 1151make some reservation of your wrongs. He is my good 1152lord; whom I serve above is my master.

Who? God.

Ay, sir.

The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost 1156thou garter up thy arms a' this fashion? Dost make hose 1157of thy sleeves? Do other servants so? Thou wert best set 1158thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honor, 1159if I were but two hours younger I'd beat thee. 1160Methink'st thou art a general offence, and every man should 1161beat thee. I think thou wast created for men to breathe 1162themselves upon thee.

This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.

Go to, sir. You were beaten in Italy for picking 1165a kernel out of a pomegranate. You are a vagabond and 1166no true traveler. You are more saucy with lords and 1167honorable personages than the commission of your 1168birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth 1169another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.

Good, very good, it is so then. Good, very 1173good, let it be concealed awhile.

Undone, and forfeited to cares forever!

What's the matter, sweetheart?

Although before the solemn priest I have 1177sworn,

2.3.195 I will not bed her.

I will not bed her. What? What, sweetheart?

Oh, my Paroles, they have married me.

2.3.1981180I'll to the Tuscan war, and never bed her.

France is a doghole, and it no more merits

2.3.2001182The tread of a man's foot. To th'war!

There's letters from my mother; what 1184th'import is,

2.3.202I know not yet.

I know not yet. Ay, that would be known.

2.3.203To th'wars, my boy, 1186to th'wars!

2.3.2041187He wears his honor in a box unseen

2.3.2051188That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home,

2.3.2061189Spending his manly marrow in her arms

2.3.2071190Which should sustain the bound and high curvet

2.3.2081191Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions!

2.3.2091192France is a stable, we that dwell in't, jades;

2.3.2101193Therefore, to th'war.

It shall be so. I'll send her to my house,

2.3.2121195Acquaint my mother with my hate to her

2.3.2131196And wherefore I am fled, write to the king

2.3.2141197That which I durst not speak. His present gift

2.3.2151198Shall furnish me to those Italian fields

2.3.2161199Where noble fellows strike. Wars is no strife

2.3.2171200To the dark house and the detested wife.

Will this capriccio hold in thee, art sure?

Go with me to my chamber and advise me.

2.3.2201203I'll send her straight away. Tomorrow,

2.3.2211204I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.

Why, these balls bound, there's noise in it! 'Tis hard,

2.3.2231206A young man married is a man that's marred.

2.3.2241207Therefore, away, and leave her bravely, go:

2.3.2251208The king has done you wrong, but hush 'tis so.

My mother greets me kindly. Is she well?

She is not well, but yet she has her health. She's 1212very merry, but yet she is not well. But, thanks be 1213given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'th'world. But 1214yet she is not well.

If she be very well, what does she ail that she's 1216not very well?

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

What two things?

One, that she's not in heaven -- whither God send 1220 her quickly; the other, that she's in earth -- from whence 1221 God send her quickly.

Bless you, my fortunate lady.

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

You had my prayers to lead them on, and to 1227keep them on, have them still. -- O my knave, how does 1228my old lady?

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

Why, I say nothing.

Marry, you are the wiser man, for many a man's 1233tongue shakes out his master's undoing. To say nothing, 1234to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, 1235is to be a great part of your title, which is within a very 1236little of nothing.

Away, thou'rt a knave.

You should have said, sir, 'Before a knave, th'art a 1239knave' -- that's 'before me th'art a knave.' This had been 1240truth, sir.

Go to, thou art a witty fool. I have found 1242thee.

Did you find me in yourself, sir, or were you 1244taught to find me?

The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool 1246may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure and the 1247increase of laughter.

A good knave, i'faith, and well fed.

2.4.191249Madam, my lord will go away tonight;

2.4.201250A very serious business calls on him.

2.4.211251The great prerogative and rite of love,

2.4.221252Which, as your due time claims, he does acknowledge,

2.4.231253But puts it off to a compelled restraint,

2.4.241254Whose want and whose delay is strewed with sweets

2.4.251255Which they distill now in the curbèd time

2.4.261256To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,

2.4.271257And pleasure drown the brim.

And pleasure drown the brim. What's his will else?

That you will take your instant leave o'th'king,

2.4.301260And make this haste as your own good proceeding,

2.4.311261Strengthened with what apology you think

2.4.321262May make it probable need.

May make it probable need. What more commands he?

That, having this obtained, you presently

2.4.341265Attend his further pleasure.

In everything, I wait upon his will.

I shall report it so.

I pray you. -- Come, sirrah.

But I hope your lordship thinks not him a 1271soldier.

Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof.

You have it from his own deliverance.

And by other warranted testimony.

Then my dial goes not true; I took this lark 1276for a bunting.

I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in 1278knowledge, and accordingly valiant.

I have then sinned against his experience and 1280transgressed against his valor, and my state that way is 1281dangerous since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent. 1282Here he comes. I pray you make us friends. I will 1283pursue the amity.

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

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

Sir!

Oh, I know him well, ay, "Sir." He, sir, 's a good 1289workman, a very good tailor.

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

She is.

Will she away tonight?

As you'll have her.

I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,

2.5.171295Given order for our horses, and tonight,

2.5.181296When I should take possession of the bride,

2.5.191297End ere I doe begin.

A good traveler is something at the latter end 1299of a dinner, but one that lies three-thirds and uses a 1300known truth to pass a thousand nothings with should 1301be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, 1302captain.

[To Paroles] Is there any unkindness between my lord and 1304you, monsieur?

I know not how I have deserved to run into my 1306lord's displeasure.

You have made shift to run into't, boots and 1308spurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard; and 1309out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer question 1310for your residence.

It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.

And shall do so ever, though I took him at's 1313prayers. Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of 1314me: there can be no kernel in this light nut. The soul 1315of this man is his clothes; trust him not in matter of 1316heavy consequence. I have kept of them tame and know 1317their natures. -- [To Paroles] Farewell, monsieur; I have spoken better 1318of you than you have or will to deserve at my hand, but 1319we must do good against evil.

An idle lord, I swear.

I think so.

Why, do you not know him?

Yes, I do know him well, and common speech

2.5.301324Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,

2.5.321327Spoke with the King, and have procured his leave

2.5.331328For present parting; only he desires

2.5.341329Some private speech with you.

Some private speech with you. I shall obey his will.

2.5.361331You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,

2.5.371332Which holds not color with the time, nor does

2.5.381333The ministration and required office

2.5.391334On my particular. Prepared I was not

2.5.401335For such a business; therefore am I found

2.5.411336So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat you

2.5.421337That presently you take your way for home,

2.5.431338And rather muse then ask why I entreat you;

2.5.441339For my respects are better than they seem,

2.5.451340And my appointments have in them a need

2.5.461341Greater than shows itself at the first view

2.5.471342To you that know them not. [Giving her a letter] This to my mother.

2.5.481343'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so

2.5.491344I leave you to your wisdom.

I leave you to your wisdom. Sir, I can nothing say

2.5.511346But that I am your most obedient servant --

Come, come, no more of that.

Come, come, no more of that. -- And ever shall,

2.5.541349With true observance, seek to eke out that

2.5.551350Wherein toward me my homely stars have failed

2.5.561351To equal my great fortune.

To equal my great fortune. Let that go.

2.5.58My haste is very great. 1353Farewell. Hie home.

Pray, sir, your pardon.

Pray, sir, your pardon. Well, what would you say?

I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,

2.5.621357Nor dare I say 'tis mine -- And yet it is --

2.5.631358But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal

2.5.641359What law does vouch mine own.

What law does vouch mine own. What would you have?

Something, and scarce so much -- nothing indeed.

2.5.671362I would not tell you what I would, my lord:

Faith, yes --

2.5.681363Strangers and foes do sunder and not kiss.

I pray you stay not, but in haste to horse.

I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.

1366-- [To Attendant] Where are my other men? -- [To Paroles] Monsieur, farewell.

Go thou toward home, where I will never come

2.5.721368Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.

2.5.731369Away, and for our flight.

Away, and for our flight. Bravely. Corragio!

So that from point to point, now have you heard

3.1.21375The fundamental reasons of this war,

3.1.31376Whose great decision hath much blood let forth

3.1.41377And more thirsts after.

And more thirsts after. Holy seems the quarrel

3.1.51379Upon your grace's part; black and fearful

3.1.61380On the opposer.

Therefore we marvel much our cousin France

3.1.81382Would in so just a business shut his bosom

3.1.91383Against our borrowing prayers.

Against our borrowing prayers. Good my lord,

3.1.101385The reasons of our state I cannot yield

3.1.111386But like a common and an outward man

3.1.121387That the great figure of a council frames

3.1.131388By self-unable motion; therefore dare not

3.1.141389Say what I think of it, since I have found

3.1.151390Myself in my incertain grounds to fail

3.1.161391As often as I guessed.

As often as I guessed. Be it his pleasure.

But I am sure the younger of our nature,

3.1.181394That surfeit on their ease, will day by day

3.1.191395Come here for physic.

Come here for physic. Welcome shall they be,

3.1.201397And all the honors that can fly from us

3.1.211398Shall on them settle. You know your places well;

3.1.221399When better fall, for your avails they fell.

3.1.231400Tomorrow to th' field.

It hath happened all as I would have had it, save 1403that he comes not along with her.

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

By what observance, I pray you?

Why, he will look upon his boot and sing, 1408mend the ruff and sing, ask questions and sing, pick 1409his teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of 1410melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a song.

Let me see what he writes and when he means 1412to come.

I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. 1414Our old lings and our Isbels o'th' country are nothing 1415like your old ling and your Isbels o'th' court. The brains 1416of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to love, as an 1417old man loves money, with no stomach.

What have we here?

E'en that you have there.

1428This is not well, rash and unbridled boy,

3.2.101429To fly the favors of so good a king,

1430To pluck his indignation on thy head

3.2.121431By the misprising of a maid too virtuous

3.2.131432For the contempt of empire.

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

What is the matter?

Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some 1438comfort. Your son will not be killed so soon as I thought 1439he would.

Why should he be killed?

So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he 1442does. The danger is in standing to't: that's the loss of 1443men, though it be the getting of children. Here they 1444come will tell you more. For my part I only hear your 1445son was run away.

Save you, good madam.

Madam, my lord is gone, forever gone.

Do not say so.

[To Helen] Think upon patience, pray you. -- Gentlemen,

3.2.231451I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief

3.2.241452That the first face of neither on the start

3.2.251453Can woman me unto't. Where is my son, I pray you?

Madam, he's gone to serve the Duke of Flo

3.2.271455rence.

3.2.281456We met him thitherward, for thence we came,

3.2.291457And, after some dispatch in hand at court,

3.2.301458Thither we bend again.

Look on his letter, madam. Here's my passport.

1464This is a dreadful sentence.

Brought you this letter, gentlemen?

Ay, madam, and for the contents' sake are sorry 1467for our pains.

[To Helen] I prithee, lady, have a better cheer.

3.2.361469If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,

3.2.371470Thou robb'st me of a moiety. He was my son,

3.2.381471But I do wash his name out of my blood,

3.2.391472And thou art all my child. -- [To the Gentlemen.] Towards Florence, is he?

Ay, madam.

Ay, madam. And to be a soldier?

Such is his noble purpose, and, believe 't,

3.2.421476The duke will lay upon him all the honor

3.2.431477That good convenience claims.

That good convenience claims. Return you thither?

Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.

3.2.471481'Tis bitter.

'Tis bitter. Find you that there?

'Tis bitter. Find you that there? Ay, madam.

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

Nothing in France, until he have no wife.

3.2.501487There's nothing here that is too good for him

3.2.511488But only she, and she deserves a lord

3.2.521489That twenty such rude boys might tend upon

3.2.531490And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?

A servant only, and a gentleman which I 1492have sometime known.

Paroles, was it not?

Paroles, was it not? Ay, my good lady, he.

A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.

3.2.571496My son corrupts a well-derivèd nature

3.2.581497With his inducement.

Indeed, good lady, the fellow has a deal of 1499that, too much, which holds him much to have.

You're welcome, gentlemen.

3.2.61I will entreat you 1501when you see my son

3.2.62To tell him that his sword can 1502never win

3.2.63The honor that he loses. More I'll entreat you

3.2.641503Written to bear along.

Written to bear along. We serve you, madam,

3.2.65In that and all your 1505worthiest affairs.

Not so, but as we change our courtesies.

3.2.671507Will you draw near?

"Till I have no wife I

have nothing in France."

3.2.691509Nothing in France until he has no wife.

3.2.701510Thou shalt have none, Roussillon, none in France;

3.2.711511Then hast thou all again. Poor lord, is't I

3.2.721512That chase thee from thy country and expose

3.2.731513Those tender limbs of thine to the event

3.2.741514Of the none-sparing war? And is it I

3.2.751515That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou

3.2.761516Wast shot at with faire eyes, to be the mark

3.2.771517Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers

3.2.781518That ride vpon the violent speed of fire,

3.2.791519Fly with false aim, move the still-'pearing air

3.2.801520That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord!

3.2.811521Whoever shoots at him, I set him there.

3.2.821522Whoever charges on his forward breast,

3.2.831523I am the caitiff that do hold him to 't,

3.2.841524And, though I kill him not, I am the cause

3.2.851525His death was so effected: Better 'twere

3.2.861526I met the ravin lion when he roared

3.2.871527With sharp constraint of hunger. Better 'twere

3.2.881528That all the miseries which nature owes

3.2.891529Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roussillon,

3.2.901530Whence honor but of danger wins a scar

3.2.911531As oft it loses all. I will be gone.

3.2.921532My being here it is that holds thee hence.

3.2.931533Shall I stay here to do 't? No, no, although

3.2.941534The air of paradise did fan the house

3.2.951535And angels officed all: I will be gone,

3.2.961536That pitiful rumor may report my flight

3.2.971537To consolate thine ear. Come, night, end day,

3.2.981538For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.

[To Bertram] The general of our horse thou art, and we,

3.3.21542Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence

3.3.31543Upon thy promising fortune.

Upon thy promising fortune. Sir, it is

3.3.41545A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet

3.3.51546We'll strive to bear it, for your worthy sake,

3.3.61547To th' extreme edge of hazard.

To th' extreme edge of hazard. Then go thou forth,

3.3.71549And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm

3.3.81550As thy auspicious mistress.

As thy auspicious mistress. This very day,

3.3.91552Great Mars, I put myself into thy file:

3.3.101553Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove

3.3.111554A lover of thy drum, hater of love.

Alas! And would you take the letter of her?

3.4.21557Might you not know she would do, as she has done,

3.4.31558By sending me a letter? Read it again.

Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words?

3.4.191575Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much

3.4.201576As letting her pass so. Had I spoke with her,

3.4.211577I could have well diverted her intents,

3.4.221578Which thus she hath prevented.

Which thus she hath prevented. Pardon me, madam.

3.4.231580If I had given you this at overnight,

3.4.241581She might have been o'erta'en. And yet she writes

3.4.251582Pursuit would be but vain.

Pursuit would be but vain. What angel shall

3.4.261584Bless this unworthy husband? He cannot thrive

3.4.271585Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear

3.4.281586And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath

3.4.291587Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo,

3.4.301588To this unworthy husband of his wife;

3.4.311589Let every word weigh heavy of her worth

3.4.321590That he does weigh too light. My greatest grief,

3.4.331591Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.

3.4.341592Dispatch the most convenient messenger.

3.4.351593When haply he shall hear that she is gone,

3.4.361594He will return, and hope I may that she,

3.4.371595Hearing so much, will speed her foot again,

3.4.381596Led hither by pure love. Which of them both

3.4.391597Is dearest to me, I have no skill in sense

3.4.401598To make distinction. Provide this messenger.

3.4.411599My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak;

3.4.421600Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak.

Nay, come, 1607for if they do approach the city, 1608we shall lose all the sight.

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

It is reported 1612that he has taken their greatest commander, 1613and that with his own hand he slew 1614the Duke's brother.

We have lost our 1615labor;they are gone a contrary way. Hark, 1616you may know by their trumpets.

Come, let's return again, 1618and suffice ourselves with the report of it. 1619-- Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl: 1620the honor of a maid is her name, 1621and no legacy is so rich 1622as honesty.

I have told my neighbor 1624how you have been solicited by a gentleman, 1625his companion.

I know that knave, hang him, one Paroles! 1627A filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young 1628earl. Beware of them, Diana. Their promises, 1629enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust are 1630not the things they go under. Many a maid hath been 1631seduced by them, and the misery is example that so 1632terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood cannot, 1633for all that, dissuade succession, but that they are limed 1634with the twigs that threatens them. I hope I need 1635not to advise you further, but I hope your own grace 1636will keep you where you are, though there were no 1637further danger known but the modesty which is so 1638lost.

You shall not need to fear me.

I hope so. Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know 1642she will lie at my house; thither they send one another. 1643I'll question her. -- God save you, pilgrim. Whither are you 1644bound?

To St. Jaques le Grand.

3.5.101646Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?

At the St. Francis here beside the port.

Is this the way?

Is this the way? Ay, marry, is't.

3.5.13Hark you, they come this way. 1650If you will tarry,

3.5.14Holy pilgrim, 1651but till the troops come by,

3.5.151652I will conduct you where you shall be lodged,

3.5.161653The rather for I think I know your hostess

3.5.171654As ample as myself.

As ample as myself. Is it yourself?

If you shall please so, pilgrim.

I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure.

You came, I think, from France?

You came, I think, from France? I did so.

Here you shall see a countryman of yours

3.5.221661That has done worthy service.

That has done worthy service. His name, I pray you?

The Count Roussillon. Know you such a one?

But by the ear that hears most nobly of him.

3.5.251665His face I know not.

His face I know not. Whatsome'er he is,

3.5.261667He's bravely taken here. He stole from France,

3.5.271668As 'tis reported, for the King had married him

3.5.281669Against his liking. Think you it is so?

Ay, surely, mere the truth. I know his lady.

There is a gentleman that serves the count

3.5.311672Reports but coarsely of her.

Reports but coarsely of her. What's his name?

Monsieur Paroles.

Monsieur Paroles. Oh, I believe with him.

3.5.331676In argument of praise, or to the worth

3.5.341677Of the great count himself, she is too mean

3.5.351678To have her name repeated. All her deserving

3.5.361679Is a reservèd honesty, and that

3.5.371680I have not heard examined.

I have not heard examined. Alas, poor lady!

3.5.381682'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife

3.5.391683Of a detesting lord.

I write good creature; wheresoe'er she is,

3.5.411685Her heart weighs sadly. This young maid might do her

3.5.421686A shrewd turn, if she pleased.

A shrewd turn, if she pleased. How do you mean?

3.5.431688Maybe the amorous count solicits her

3.5.441689In the unlawful purpose?

In the unlawful purpose? He does, indeed,

3.5.451691And brokes with all that can in such a suit

3.5.461692Corrupt the tender honor of a maid:

3.5.471693But she is armed for him and keeps her guard

3.5.481694In honestest defence.

In honestest defence. The gods forbid else.

So, now they come:

3.5.501699That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son;

3.5.511700That, Escalus.

That, Escalus. Which is the Frenchman?

That, Escalus. Which is the Frenchman? He,

3.5.521703That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow.

3.5.531704I would he loved his wife. If he were honester,

3.5.541705He were much goodlier. Is 't not a handsome gentleman?

I like him well.

'Tis pity he is not honest. Yond's that same knave

3.5.571708That leads him to these places. Were I his lady,

3.5.581709I would poison that vile rascal.

I would poison that vile rascal. Which is he?

That jackanapes with scarfs. Why is he 1712melancholy?

Perchance he's hurt i'th' battle.

Lose our drum? Well.

He's shrewdly vexed at something. Look, he 1716has spied us.

Marry, hang you!

And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier.

The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring 1720you

3.5.66Where you shall host. Of enjoined penitents

3.5.671721There's four or five, to great St Jaques bound,

3.5.681722Already at my house.

Already at my house. I humbly thank you.

3.5.691724Please it this matron and this gentle maid

3.5.701725To eat with us tonight, the charge and thanking

3.5.711726Shall be for me, and to requite you further,

3.5.721727I will bestow some precepts of this virgin

3.5.731728Worthy the note.

Worthy the note. We'll take your offer kindly.

Nay, good my lord, put him to 't. Let him 1733have his way.

If your lordship find him not a hilding, 1735hold me no more in your respect.

On my life, my lord, a bubble.

Do you think I am so far 1738deceived in him?

Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct 1740knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him 1741as my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an 1742infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the 1743owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's 1744entertainment.

It were fit you knew him, lest reposing too 1746far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some 1747great and trusty business in a main danger fail 1748you.

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

None better than to let him fetch off his 1752drum, which you hear him so confidently 1753undertake to do.

I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly 1755surprize him. Such I will have whom I am sure he knows 1756not from the enemy. We will bind and hoodwink 1757him so that he shall suppose no other but that he is 1758carried into the leaguer of the adversaries when we bring 1759him to our own tents. Be but your lordship present 1760at his examination. If he do not, for the promise of his 1761life and in the highest compulsion of base fear, offer to 1762betray you and deliver all the intelligence in his power 1763against you, and that with the divine forfeit of his 1764soul upon oath, never trust my judgment in 1765anything.

Oh, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his 1767drum! He says he has a stratagem for 't. When your 1768lordship sees the bottom of this success in 't, and to 1769what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be 1770melted if you give him not John Drum's entertainment, 1771your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes.

[Aside to Bertram] Oh, for the love of laughter, hinder not the 1774honor of his design! -- [Aloud] Let him fetch off his drum in any 1775hand.

How now, monsieur? This drum sticks 1777sorely in your disposition.

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

But a drum! Is't but a drum? A drum so 1780lost? There was excellent command, to charge in with 1781our horse upon our own wings and to rend our own 1782soldiers.

That was not to be blamed in the command 1784of the service. It was a disaster of war that Caesar 1785himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to 1786command.

Well, we cannot greatly condemn our 1788success. Some dishonor we had in the loss of that drum, 1789but it is not to be recovered.

It might have been recovered.

It might, but it is not now.

It is to be recovered. But that the merit of 1793service is seldom attributed to the true and exact 1794performer, I would have that drum or another, or hic 1795jacet.

Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur. If 1797you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this 1798instrument of honor again into his native quarter, be 1799magnanimous in the enterprise and go on. I will grace 1800the attempt for a worthy exploit. If you speed well in 1801it, the duke shall both speak of it and extend to you 1802what further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost 1803syllable of your worthiness.

By the hand of a soldier I will undertake it.

But you must not now slumber in it.

I'll about it this evening, and I will presently 1807pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my 1808certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation 1809-and by midnight look to hear further from me.

May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are 1811gone about it?

I know not what the success will be, my lord, 1813but the attempt I vow.

I know th'art valiant, 1815and to the possibility of thy soldiership, 1816will subscribe for thee. Farewell.

I love not many words.

No more than a fish loves water. Is not this 1819a strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems to 1820undertake this business, which he knows is not to be 1821done, damns himself to do, and dares better be damned 1822than to do 't?

You do not know him, my lord, as we do. 1824 Certain it is that he will steal himself into a man's 1825favor, and for a week escape a great deal of 1826discoveries, but when you find him out, you have him ever 1827after.

Why, do you think he will make no deed at 1829all of this that so seriously he does address himself 1830unto?

None in the world, but return with an 1832invention, and clap upon you two or three probable lies. 1833But we have almost embossed him. You shall see his fall 1834tonight, for indeed he is not for your lordship's 1835respect.

We'll make you some sport with the fox 1837ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old Lord 1838Lafeu. When his disguise and he is parted, tell me what 1839a sprat you shall find him, which you shall see this 1840very night.

I must go look my twigs. 1842He shall be caught.

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

As 't please your lordship. I'll leave you.

Now will I lead you to the house, and show you

3.6.371846The lass I spoke of.

The lass I spoke of. But you say she's honest.

That's all the fault. I spoke with her but once,

3.6.391849And found her wondrous cold, but I sent to her

3.6.401850By this same coxcomb that we have i'th'wind

3.6.411851Tokens and letters, which she did resend,

3.6.421852And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature.

3.6.431853Will you go see her?

Will you go see her? With all my heart, my lord.

If you misdoubt me that I am not she,

3.7.21857I know not how I shall assure you further,

3.7.31858But I shall lose the grounds I work upon.

Though my estate be fallen, I was well born,

3.7.51860Nothing acquainted with these businesses,

3.7.61861And would not put my reputation now

3.7.71862In any staining act.

In any staining act. Nor would I wish you.

3.7.81864First give me trust: the count he is my husband,

3.7.91865And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken

3.7.101866Is so from word to word; and then you cannot,

3.7.111867By the good aid that I of you shall borrow,

3.7.121868Err in bestowing it.

Err in bestowing it. I should believe you,

3.7.131870For you have showed me that which well approves

3.7.141871You're great in fortune.

You're great in fortune. Take this purse of gold,

3.7.151873And let me buy your friendly help thus far,

3.7.161874Which I will over-pay and pay again

3.7.171875When I have found it. The count he woos 1876your daughter,

3.7.181877Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty,

3.7.191878Resolves to carry her. Let her in fine consent

3.7.201879As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it.

3.7.211880Now his important blood will naught deny

3.7.221881That she'll demand: a ring the county wears,

3.7.231882That downward hath succeeded in his house

3.7.241883From son to son some four or five descents

3.7.251884Since the first father wore it. This ring he holds

3.7.261885In most rich choice. Yet in his idle fire

3.7.271886To buy his will, it would not seem too dear,

3.7.281887Howe'er repented after.

Now I see the bottom of your purpose.

You see it lawful then. It is no more

3.7.311890But that your daughter, ere she seems as won,

3.7.321891Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter;

3.7.331892In fine, delivers me to fill the time,

3.7.341893Herself most chastely absent. After,

3.7.351894To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns

3.7.361895To what is passed already.

To what is passed already. I have yielded.

3.7.371897Instruct my daughter how she shall persever

3.7.381898That time and place with this deceit so lawful

3.7.391899May prove coherent. Every night he comes

3.7.401900With musics of all sorts and songs composed

3.7.411901To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us

3.7.421902To chide him from our eaves, for he persists

3.7.431903As if his life lay on 't.

As if his life lay on 't. Why then, to night

3.7.441905Let us assay our plot, which, if it speed,

3.7.451906Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed;

3.7.461907And lawful meaning in a lawful act,

3.7.471908Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact.

3.7.481909But let's about it.

He can come no other way but by this 1914hedge-corner. When you sally upon him, speak what terrible 1915language you will; though you understand it not your 1916selves, no matter, for we must not seem to understand 1917him, unless someone among us, whom we must 1918produce for an interpreter.

Good captain, let me be th'interpreter.

Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not 1921thy voice?

No sir, I warrant you.

But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us 1924again?

E'en such as you speak to me.

He must think us some band of strangers, 1927i'th'adversary's entertainment. Now, he hath a smack of all 1928neighboring languages; therefore, we must every one 1929be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we speak 1930one to another; so we seem to know is to know straight 1931our purpose: choughs' language. Gabble enough and 1932good enough. -- [To Soldier 1] As for you, interpreter, you must seem 1933very politic. -- [To all] But couch, ho! Here he comes, to 1934beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear 1935the lies he forges.

[Call or horn marking the hour] Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill 1938be time enough to go home. What shall I say I have 1939done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries 1940it: they begin to smoke me, and disgraces have of 1941late knocked too often at my door. I find my tongue 1942is too foolhardy, but my heart hath the fear of Mars 1943before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of 1944my tongue.

[Aside] This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue 1946was guilty of.

What the devil should move me to undertake 1948the recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the 1949impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I 1950must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in 1951exploit. Yet slight ones will not carry it: they will say, 1952"Came you off with so little?" And great ones I dare not 1953give. Wherefore what's the instance? Tongue, I must put 1954you into a butter-woman's mouth and buy myself 1955another of Bajazeth's mule if you prattle me into these 1956perils.

[Aside] Is it possible he should know what he is, and 1958be that he is?

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

[Aside] We cannot afford you so.

Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in 1963stratagem.

[Aside] 'Twould not do.

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

[Aside] Hardly serve.

Though I swore I leapt from the window of the 1968citadel --

[Aside] How deep?

Thirty fathom.

[Aside] Three great oaths would scarce make that 1972be believed.

I would I had any drum of the enemy's; I 1974would swear I recovered it.

[Aside] You shall hear one anon.

A drum now of the enemy's --

Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo.

Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo.

Oh, ransom, ransom!

Oh, ransom, ransom! 1981Do not hide mine eyes.

4.1.2819821 Soldier as "Interpreter"Boskos thromuldo boskos.

I know you are the Musco's regiment,

4.1.301984And I shall lose my life for want of language.

4.1.311985If there be here German or Dane, Low Dutch,

4.1.321986Italian, or French, let him speak to me:

4.1.331987I'll discover that which shall undo the Florentine.

Boskos vauvado. I understand thee, and can speak 1989thy tongue. Kerelybonto. Sir, betake thee to thy faith, for 1990seventeen poniards are at thy bosom.

Oh!

Oh, pray, pray, pray! 1993Manka reuania dulche.

Oscorbidulchos voliuorco.

The general is content to spare thee yet,

4.1.391996And, hoodwinked as thou art, will lead thee on

4.1.401997To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst inform

4.1.411998Something to save thy life.

Something to save thy life. Oh, let me live,

4.1.422000And all the secrets of our camp I'll show,

4.1.432001Their force, their purposes. Nay, I'll speak that,

4.1.442002Which you will wonder at.

Which you will wonder at. But wilt thou faithfully?

If I do not, damn me.

If I do not, damn me. Acordo linta.

2006Come on; thou are granted space.

Go tell the Count Roussillon and my brother

4.1.482009We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled

4.1.492010Till we do hear from them.

Till we do hear from them. Captain I will.

A will betray us all unto ourselves.

4.1.512013Inform on that.

Inform on that. So I will sir.

Till then I'll keep him dark and safely locked.

They told me that your name was Fontybell.

No, my good lord, Diana.

No, my good lord, Diana. Titled goddess,

4.2.32022And worth it with addition. But, fair soul,

4.2.42023In your fine frame hath love no quality?

4.2.52024If the quick fire of youth light not your mind,

4.2.62025You are no maiden but a monument.

4.2.72026When you are dead you should be such a one

4.2.82027As you are now, for you are cold and stern,

4.2.92028And now you should be as your mother was

4.2.102029When your sweet self was got.

She then was honest.

She then was honest. So should you be.

She then was honest. So should you be. No.

4.2.122033My mother did but duty; such, my lord,

4.2.132034As you owe to your wife.

No more o'that!

4.2.142036I prithee do not strive against my vows;

4.2.152037I was compelled to her, but I love thee

4.2.162038By love's own sweet constraint, and will forever

4.2.172039Do thee all rights of service.

Do thee all rights of service. Ay, so you serve us

4.2.182041Till we serve you; but when you have our roses,

4.2.192042You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves,

4.2.202043And mock us with our bareness.

And mock us with our bareness. How have I sworn?

'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth,

4.2.222046But the plain single vow that is vowed true.

4.2.232047What is not holy, that we swear not by,

4.2.242048But take the high'st to witness? Then pray you tell me,

4.2.252049If I should swear by Jove's great attributes

4.2.262050I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths

4.2.272051When I did love you ill? This has no holding,

4.2.282052To swear by him whom I protest to love

4.2.292053That I will work against him. Therefore your oaths

4.2.302054Are words and poor conditions but unsealed,

4.2.312055At least in my opinion.

At least in my opinion. Change it, change it!

4.2.322057Be not so holy cruel. Love is holy,

4.2.332058And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts

4.2.342059That you do charge men with. Stand no more off,

4.2.352060But give thyself unto my sick desires,

4.2.362061Who then recovers. Say thou art mine, and ever

4.2.372062My love as it begins shall so persever.

I see that men make ropes in such a scar

4.2.392064That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring.

I'll lend it thee, my dear, but have no power

4.2.412066To give it from me.

To give it from me. Will you not, my Lord?

It is an honor 'longing to our house,

4.2.432069Bequeathed down from many ancestors,

4.2.442070Which were the greatest obloquy i'th'world

4.2.452071In me to lose.

In me to lose. Mine honor's such a ring.

4.2.462073My chastity's the jewel of our house,

4.2.472074Bequeathed down from many ancestors,

4.2.482075Which were the greatest obloquy i'th'world,

4.2.492076In me to lose. Thus your own proper wisdom

4.2.502077Brings in the champion honor on my part,

4.2.512078Against your vain assault.

Against your vain assault. Here, take my ring!

4.2.522080My house, mine honor, yea, my life be thine,

4.2.532081And I'll be bid by thee.

When midnight comes, knock at my 2083chamber window;

4.2.552084I'll order take my mother shall not hear.

4.2.562085Now will I charge you in the band of truth:

4.2.572086When you have conquered my yet maiden bed,

4.2.582087Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me.

4.2.592088My reasons are most strong, and you shall know them

4.2.602089When back again this ring shall be delivered.

4.2.612090And on your finger in the night, I'll put

4.2.622091Another ring, that what in time proceeds

4.2.632092May token to the future our past deeds.

4.2.642093Adieu till then, then fail not; you have won

4.2.652094A wife of me, though there my hope be done.

A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee.

For which live long to thank both heaven and me.

4.2.682097You may so in the end.

4.2.692098My mother told me just how he would woo,

4.2.702099As if she sat in's heart. She says all men

4.2.712100Have the like oaths. He had sworn to marry me

4.2.722101When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him

4.2.732102When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid,

4.2.742103Marry that will, I live and die a maid.

4.2.752104Only in this disguise, I think't no sin,

4.2.762105To cozen him that would unjustly win.

You have not given him his mother's letter?

I have delivered it an hour since. There is 2110something in't that stings his nature, for on the reading it 2111he changed almost into another man.

He has much worthy blame laid upon him 2113for shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady.

Especially he hath incurred the everlasting 2115displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his bounty 2116to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but 2117you shall let it dwell darkly with you.

When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am 2119the grave of it.

He hath perverted a young gentlewoman 2121here in Florence, of a most chaste renown, and this night 2122he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honor. He hath 2123given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself 2124made in the unchaste composition.

Now God delay our rebellion! As we are 2126ourselves, what things are we?

Merely our own traitors. And, as in the 2128common course of all treasons, we still see them reveal 2129themselves till they attain to their abhorred ends, so 2130he that in this action contrives against his own 2131nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself.

Is it not meant damnable in us to be 2133trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have 2134his company tonight?

Not till after midnight, for he is dieted to 2136his hour.

That approaches apace. I would gladly have 2138him see his company anatomized, that he might take 2139a measure of his own judgments, wherein so curiously 2140he had set this counterfeit.

We will not meddle with him till he come, 2142for his presence must be the whip of the other.

In the meantime, what hear you of these 2144wars?

I hear there is an overture of peace.

Nay, I assure you a peace concluded.

What will Count Roussillon do then? Will 2148he travel higher, or return again into France?

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

Let it be forbid, sir. So should I be a great 2152deal of his act.

Sir, his wife some two months since fled 2154from his house. Her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint 2155Jaques le Grand, which holy undertaking, with most 2156austere sanctimony, she accomplished; and there residing, 2157the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her 2158grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now 2159she sings in heaven.

How is this justified?

The stronger part of it by her own letters, 2162which makes her story true, even to the point of her 2163death. Her death itself, which could not be her office 2164to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by the rector 2165of the place.

Hath the count all this intelligence?

Ay, and the particular confirmations, 2168point from point, to the full arming of the verity.

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

How mightily sometimes we make us 2172comforts of our losses.

And how mightily some other times we 2174drown our gain in tears. The great dignity that his 2175valor hath here acquired for him shall at home be 2176encountered with a shame as ample.

The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, 2178good and ill together. Our virtues would be proud if 2179our faults whipped them not, and our crimes would 2180despair if they were not cherished by our virtues.

4.3.282182How now? Where's your master?

He met the duke in the street sir, of whom he 2184hath taken a solemn leave. His lordship will next 2185morning for France. The duke hath offered him 2186letters of commendations to the king.

They shall be no more than needful there, 2188if they were more than they can commend.

They cannot be too sweet for the king's 2191tartness. Here's his lordship now. --How now, my lord, 2192is't not after midnight?

I have tonight dispatched sixteen businesses, a 2194month's length apiece. By an abstract of success: I 2195have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his 2196nearest, buried a wife, mourned for her, writ to my 2197lady mother I am returning, entertained my convoy, and, 2198between these main parcels of dispatch, affected 2199many nicer needs. The last was the greatest, but that I have 2200not ended yet.

If the business be of any difficulty, and this 2202morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your 2203lordship.

I mean the business is not ended, as fearing 2205to hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue 2206between the fool and the soldier? Come, bring 2207forth this counterfeit module; he's deceived me like a 2208double-meaning prophesier.

[To soldiers] Bring him forth.

4.3.35.1He's sat i'th'stocks all night, 2210poor gallant knave.

No matter: his heels have deserved it in 2212usurping his spurs so long. How does he carry himself?

I have told your lordship already: the 2214stocks carry him. But to answer you as you would be 2215understood, he weeps like a wench that had shed her 2216milk. He hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he 2217supposes to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance 2218to this very instant disaster of his setting i'th'stocks. 2219And what think you he hath confessed?

Nothing of me, has'a?

His confession is taken, and it shall be read 2222to his face; if your lordship be in't, as I believe you 2223are, you must have the patience to hear it.

[Aside] A plague upon him! Muffled! He can say nothing 2226of me. -- Hush, hush!

[Aside to the others] Hoodman comes. [Aloud] Portotartarossa.

4.3.4122281 Soldier as "Interpreter"[To Paroles] He calls for the tortures. What will you say 2229without 'em?

I will confess what I know without constraint. 2231If ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more.

4.3.4322321 Soldier as "Interpreter"Bosko Chimurcho.

Boblibindo chicurmurco.

22341 Soldier as "Interpreter"You are a merciful general. -- Our general 2235bids you answer to what I shall ask you out of a note.

And truly, as I hope to live.

22371 Soldier as "Interpreter"[Pretends to read] "First, demand of him how many horse the duke 2238is strong." What say you to that?

Five or six thousand, but very weak and 2240unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and the 2241commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation and 2242credit, and as I hope to live.

2243 1 Soldier as "Interpreter"Shall I set down your answer so?

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

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

[Aside to Bertram and 2 Lord] You're deceived, my lord, this is Monsieur 2248Paroles, the gallant militarist -- that was his own phrase -- 2249that had the whole theoric of war in the knot of his 2250scarf, and the practice in the chape of his dagger.

[Aside to Bertram and 1 Lord] I will never trust a man again for keeping 2252his sword clean, nor believe he can have everything 2253in him by wearing his apparel neatly.

22541 Soldier as "Interpreter"Well, that's set down.

'Five or six thousand horse,' I said -- I will say true -- 2256'or thereabouts,' set down, for I'll speak truth.

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

[Aside to the Lords] But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he 2259delivers it.

"Poor rogues," I pray you say.

22611 Soldier as "Interpreter"Well, that's set down.

I humbly thank you, sir. A truth's a truth: the 2263rogues are marvelous poor.

22641 Soldier as "Interpreter"[Pretends to read] "Demand of him of what strength they are 2265afoot." What say you to that?

By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present 2267hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a hundred and 2268fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so many; Jaques, so 2269many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick and Gratii, two 2270hundred fifty each; mine own company, Chitopher, 2271Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred fifty each. So that the muster 2272file, rotten and sound, upon my life, amounts not to 2273fifteen thousand poll, half of the which dare not shake 2274the snow from off their cassocks least they shake 2275themselves to pieces.

What shall be done to him?

Nothing but let him have thanks. -- [To 1 Soldier] Demand 2278of him my condition, and what credit I have with the 2279duke.

Well, that's set down. [Pretends to read] 'You shall demand of 2281him whether one Captain Dumaine be i'th'camp, a 2282Frenchman, what his reputation is with the duke, what 2283his valor, honesty, and expertness in wars, or 2284whether he thinks it were not possible with well-weighing 2285sums of gold to corrupt him to a revolt.' What say you 2286to this? What do you know of it?

I beseech you let me answer to the particular of 2288the inter'gatories. Demand them singly.

Do you know this Captain Dumaine?

I know him; a was a botcher's prentice in Paris, 2291from whence he was whipped for getting the sheriff's fool 2292with child, a dumb innocent that could not say him 2293nay.

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

Well, is this captain in the Duke of Florence's 2297camp?

Upon my knowledge he is, and lousy.

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

What is his reputation with the duke?

The duke knows him for no other but a poor 2303officer of mine, and writ to me this other day to turn 2304him out o'th'band. I think I have his letter in my 2305pocket.

Marry, we'll search.

In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there 2308or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters in my 2309tent.

Here 'tis, here's a paper. Shall I read it to you?

I do not know if it be it or no.

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

[Aside to Bertram] Excellently.

[Reads] Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold.

That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an 2316advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one Diana, to 2317take heed of the allurement of one Count Roussillon, a 2318foolish idle boy, but for all that very ruttish. I pray you, 2319sir, put it up again.

Nay, I'll read it first, by your favor.

My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the 2322behalf of the maid, for I knew the young count to be a 2323dangerous and lascivious boy who is a whale to 2324virginity, and devours up all the fry it finds.

[Aside] Damnable both-sides rogue!

[Reads the letter.] "When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and 2327take it;

4.3.872328After he scores, he never pays the score.

4.3.882329Half won is match well made; match, and well make it.

4.3.892330He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before,

4.3.902331And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this:

4.3.912332Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss.

4.3.922333For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it,

4.3.932334Who pays before, but not when he does owe it.

4.3.942335Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear,

4.3.952336Paroles."

[Aside] He shall be whipped through the army with this 2338rhyme in's forehead.

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

[Aside] I could endure anything before but a cat, and 2342now he's a cat to me.

I perceive, sir, by your general's looks, we shall 2344be fain to hang you.

My life, sir, in any case! Not that I am afraid to 2346die, but, that my offences being many, I would repent 2347out the remainder of nature. Let me live, sir, in a 2348dungeon, i'th'stocks, or anywhere, so I may live.

We'll see what may be done, so you confess 2350freely; therefore, once more to this Captain Dumaine. 2351You have answered to his reputation with the duke, and 2352to his valor. What is his honesty?

He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister. For 2354rapes and ravishments, he parallels Nessus. He professes 2355not keeping of oaths -- in breaking 'em he is stronger than 2356Hercules. He will lie, sir, with such volubility, that you 2357would think truth were a fool. Drunkenness is his best 2358virtue, for he will be swine-drunk, and in his sleep he 2359does little harm, save to his bedclothes about him; 2360but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I 2361have but little more to say, sir, of his honesty. He has 2362every thing that an honest man should not have; what an 2363honest man should have, he has nothing.

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

[Aside to 1 Lord] For this description of thine honesty? A pox 2366upon him for me; he's more and more a cat.

What say you to his expertness in war?

Faith, sir, he's led the drum before the 2369English tragedians. To belie him I will not, and more of his 2370soldiership I know not, except in that country, he had 2371the honor to be the officer at a place there called Mile 2372End, to instruct for the doubling of files. I would do the 2373man what honor I can, but of this I am not certain.

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

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

His qualities being at this poor price, I need 2378not to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt.

Sir, for a cardecu he will sell the fee-simple of 2380his salvation, the inheritance of it, and cut th'entail from 2381all remainders, and a perpetual succession for it 2382perpetually.

What's his brother, the other Captain Dumaine?

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

What's he?

E'en a crow a'th'same nest: not altogether so 2387great as the first in goodness, but greater a great deal in 2388evil. He excels his brother for a coward, yet his brother 2389is reputed one of the best that is. In a retreat, he 2390outruns any lackey. Marry, in coming on, he has the 2391cramp.

If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray 2393the Florentine?

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

I'll whisper with the general and know his 2396pleasure.

I'll no more drumming; a plague of all drums! 2398Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the 2399supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run 2400into this danger. Yet who would have suspected an 2401ambush where I was taken?

There is no remedy, sir, but you must die. The 2403general says you that have so traitorously discovered 2404the secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous 2405reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for 2406no honest use. Therefore you must die. -- Come 2407headsman, off with his head.

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

That shall you, and take your leave of all your 2410friends.

4.3.1222411So, look about you. Know you any here?

Good morrow, noble captain.

God bless you, Captain Paroles.

God save you, noble captain.

Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord 2416Lafeu? I am for France.

Good captain, will you give me a copy of 2418the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count 2419Roussillon? And I were not a very coward, I'd compel 2420it of you, but fare you well.

You are undone, captain, all but your scarf 2422that has a knot on't yet.

Who cannot be crushed with a plot?

If you could find out a country where but 2425women were that had received so much shame, you 2426might begin an impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir, I 2427am for France too. We shall speak of you there.

Yet am I thankful. If my heart were great

4.3.1312429'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more,

4.3.1322430But I will eat, and drink, and sleep as soft

4.3.1332431As captain shall. Simply the thing I am

4.3.1342432Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,

4.3.1352433Let him fear this, for it will come to pass,

4.3.1362434That every braggart shall be found an ass.

4.3.1372435Rust, sword; cool, blushes; and Paroles live

4.3.1382436Safest in shame. Being fooled, by fool'ry thrive;

4.3.1392437There's place and means for every man alive.

4.3.1402438I'll after them.

That you may well perceive I have 2441not wronged you,

4.4.22442One of the greatest in the Christian world

4.4.32443Shall be my surety, 'fore whose throne 'tis needful,

4.4.42444Ere I can pèrfect mine intents, to kneel.

4.4.52445Time was, I did him a desirèd office,

4.4.62446Dear almost as his life, which gratitude

4.4.72447Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth

4.4.82448And answer thanks. I duly am informed,

4.4.92449His grace is at Marseille, to which place

4.4.102450We have convenient convoy. You must know

4.4.112451I am supposèd dead. The army breaking,

4.4.122452My husband hies him home, where, heaven aiding,

4.4.132453And by the leave of my good lord the king,

4.4.142454We'll be before our welcome.

We'll be before our welcome. Gentle madam,

4.4.152456You never had a servant to whose trust

4.4.162457Your business was more welcome.

Your business was more welcome. Nor you, mistress

4.4.172459Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labor

4.4.182460To recompense your love. Doubt not but heaven

4.4.192461Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower,

4.4.202462As it hath fated her to be my motive

4.4.212463And helper to a husband. But, oh, strange men

4.4.222464That can such sweet use make of what they hate

4.4.232465When saucy trusting of the cozened thoughts

4.4.242466Defiles the pitchy night! So lust doth play

4.4.252467With what it loathes for that which is away.

4.4.262468But more of this hereafter. You, Diana,

4.4.272469Under my poor instructions yet must suffer

4.4.282470Something in my behalf.

Something in my behalf. Let death and honesty

4.4.292472Go with your impositions; I am yours

4.4.302473Upon your will to suffer.

Upon your will to suffer. Yet I pray you:

4.4.312475But with the word the time will bring on summer,

4.4.322476When briars shall have leaves as well as thorns,

4.4.332477And be as sweet as sharp. We must away:

4.4.342478Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us.

4.4.352479All's well that ends well, still the fine's the crown;

4.4.362480Whate'er the course, the end is the renown.

No, no, no, your son was misled with a 2483snipped-taffeta fellow there, whose villainous saffron would have 2484made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his 2485color. Your daughter-in-law had been alive at this 2486hour, and your son here at home, more advanced 2487by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak 2488of.

I would I had not known him; it was the death 2490of the most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature 2491had praise for creating. If she had partaken of my flesh 2492and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could 2493not have owed her a more rooted love.

'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady. We 2495may pick a thousand salads ere we light on such 2496another herb.

Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the 2498salad, or rather the herb of grace.

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

I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir: I have 2502not much skill in grace.

Whether dost thou profess thyself -- a knave 2504or a fool?

A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a 2506man's.

Your distinction?

I would cozen the man of his wife, and do his 2509service.

So you were a knave at his service indeed.

And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do 2512her service.

I will subscribe for thee: thou art both knave 2514and fool.

At your service.

No, no, no.

Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as 2518great a prince as you are.

Who's that? A Frenchman?

Faith, sir, a has an English [mane or mien], but his 2521phys'nomy is more hotter in France than there.

What prince is that?

The black prince, sir, alias the prince of 2524darkness, alias the devil.