part 2
.Lo.E. It well may serue A nursserie to our Gentrie, who are sicke For breathing, and exploit
King. What's he comes heere. Enter Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles.
1.Lor.G. It is the Count Rosignoll my good Lord, Yong Bertram
King. Youth, thou bear'st thy Fathers face, Franke Nature rather curious then in hast Hath well compos'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts Maist thou inherit too: Welcome to Paris
Ber. My thankes and dutie are your Maiesties
Kin. I would I had that corporall soundnesse now, As when thy father, and my selfe, in friendship First tride our souldiership: he did looke farre Into the seruice of the time, and was Discipled of the brauest. He lasted long, But on vs both did haggish Age steale on, And wore vs out of act: It much repaires me To talke of your good father; in his youth He had the wit, which I can well obserue To day in our yong Lords: but they may iest Till their owne scorne returne to them vnnoted Ere they can hide their leuitie in honour: So like a Courtier, contempt nor bitternesse Were in his pride, or sharpnesse; if they were, His equall had awak'd them, and his honour Clocke to it selfe, knew the true minute when Exception bid him speake: and at this time His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him, He vs'd as creatures of another place, And bow'd his eminent top to their low rankes, Making them proud of his humilitie, In their poore praise he humbled: Such a man Might be a copie to these yonger times; Which followed well, would demonstrate them now But goers backward
Ber. His good remembrance sir Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe: So in approofe liues not his Epitaph, As in your royall speech
King. Would I were with him he would alwaies say, (Me thinkes I heare him now) his plausiue words He scatter'd not in eares, but grafted them To grow there and to beare: Let me not liue, This his good melancholly oft began On the Catastrophe and heele of pastime When it was out: Let me not liue (quoth hee) After my flame lackes oyle, to be the snuffe Of yonger spirits, whose apprehensiue senses All but new things disdaine; whose iudgements are Meere fathers of their garments: whose constancies Expire before their fashions: this he wish'd. I after him, do after him wish too: Since I nor wax nor honie can bring home, I quickly were dissolued from my hiue To giue some Labourers roome
2.L.E. You'r loued Sir, They that least lend it you, shall lacke you first
Kin. I fill a place I know't: how long ist Count Since the Physitian at your fathers died? He was much fam'd
Ber. Some six moneths since my Lord
Kin. If he were liuing, I would try him yet. Lend me an arme: the rest haue worne me out With seuerall applications: Nature and sicknesse Debate it at their leisure. Welcome Count, My sonne's no deerer
Ber. Thanke your Maiesty.
Exit
Flourish.
Enter Countesse, Steward, and Clowne.
Coun. I will now heare, what say you of this gentlewoman
Ste. Maddam the care I haue had to euen your content, I wish might be found in the Kalender of my past endeuours, for then we wound our Modestie, and make foule the clearnesse of our deseruings, when of our selues we publish them
Coun. What doe's this knaue heere? Get you gone sirra: the complaints I haue heard of you I do not all beleeue, 'tis my slownesse that I doe not: For I know you lacke not folly to commit them, & haue abilitie enough to make such knaueries yours
Clo. 'Tis not vnknown to you Madam, I am a poore fellow
Coun. Well sir
Clo. No maddam, 'Tis not so well that I am poore, though manie of the rich are damn'd, but if I may haue your Ladiships good will to goe to the world, Isbell the woman and I will doe as we may
Coun. Wilt thou needes be a begger? Clo. I doe beg your good will in this case
Cou. In what case? Clo. In Isbels case and mine owne: seruice is no heritage, and I thinke I shall neuer haue the blessing of God, till I haue issue a my bodie: for they say barnes are blessings
Cou. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marrie? Clo. My poore bodie Madam requires it, I am driuen on by the flesh, and hee must needes goe that the diuell driues
Cou. Is this all your worships reason? Clo. Faith Madam I haue other holie reasons, such as they are
Cou. May the world know them? Clo. I haue beene Madam a wicked creature, as you and all flesh and blood are, and indeede I doe marrie that I may repent
Cou. Thy marriage sooner then thy wickednesse
Clo. I am out a friends Madam, and I hope to haue friends for my wiues sake
Cou. Such friends are thine enemies knaue
Clo. Y'are shallow Madam in great friends, for the knaues come to doe that for me which I am a wearie of: he that eres my Land, spares my teame, and giues mee leaue to Inne the crop: if I be his cuckold hee's my drudge; he that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; hee that cherishes my flesh and blood, loues my flesh and blood; he that loues my flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses my wife is my friend: if men could be contented to be what they are, there were no feare in marriage, for yong Charbon the Puritan, and old Poysam the Papist, how somere their hearts are seuer'd in Religion, their heads are both one, they may ioule horns together like any Deare i'th Herd
Cou. Wilt thou euer be a foule mouth'd and calumnious knaue? Clo. A Prophet I Madam, and I speake the truth the next waie, for I the Ballad will repeate, which men full true shall finde, your marriage comes by destinie, your Cuckow sings by kinde
Cou. Get you gone sir, Ile talke with you more anon
Stew. May it please you Madam, that hee bid Hellen come to you, of her I am to speake
Cou. Sirra tell my gentlewoman I would speake with her, Hellen I meane
Clo. Was this faire face the cause, quoth she, Why the Grecians sacked Troy, Fond done, done, fond was this King Priams ioy, With that she sighed as she stood,
bis
And gaue this sentence then, among nine bad if one be good, among nine bad if one be good, there's yet one good in ten
Cou. What, one good in tenne? you corrupt the song sirra
Clo. One good woman in ten Madam, which is a purifying ath' song: would God would serue the world so all the yeere, weed finde no fault with the tithe woman if I were the Parson, one in ten quoth a? and wee might haue a good woman borne but ore euerie blazing starre, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the Lotterie well, a man may draw his heart out ere a plucke one
Cou. Youle begone sir knaue, and doe as I command you? Clo. That man should be at womans command, and yet no hurt done, though honestie be no Puritan, yet it will doe no hurt, it will weare the Surplis of humilitie ouer the blacke-Gowne of a bigge heart: I am going forsooth, the businesse is for Helen to come hither. Enter.
Cou. Well now
Stew. I know Madam you loue your Gentlewoman intirely
Cou. Faith I doe: her Father bequeath'd her to mee, and she her selfe without other aduantage, may lawfullie make title to as much loue as shee findes, there is more owing her then is paid, and more shall be paid her then sheele demand
Stew. Madam, I was verie late more neere her then I thinke shee wisht mee, alone shee was, and did communicate to her selfe her owne words to her owne eares, shee thought, I dare vowe for her, they toucht not anie stranger sence, her matter was, shee loued your Sonne; Fortune shee said was no goddesse, that had put such difference betwixt their two estates: Loue no god, that would not extend his might onelie, where qualities were leuell, Queene of Virgins, that would suffer her poore Knight surpris'd without rescue in the first assault or ransome afterward: This shee deliuer'd in the most bitter touch of sorrow that ere I heard Virgin exclaime in, which I held my dutie speedily to acquaint you withall, sithence in the losse that may happen, it concernes you something to know it
Cou. You haue discharg'd this honestlie, keepe it to your selfe, manie likelihoods inform'd mee of this before, which hung so tottring in the ballance, that I could neither beleeue nor misdoubt: praie you leaue mee, stall this in your bosome, and I thanke you for your honest care: I will speake with you further anon.
Exit Steward.
Enter Hellen.
Old.Cou. Euen so it was with me when I was yong: If euer we are natures, these are ours, this thorne Doth to our Rose of youth rightlie belong Our bloud to vs, this to our blood is borne, It is the show, and seale of natures truth, Where loues strong passion is imprest in youth, By our remembrances of daies forgon, Such were our faults, or then we thought them none, Her eie is sicke on't, I obserue her now
Hell. What is your pleasure Madam? Ol.Cou. You know Hellen I am a mother to you
Hell. Mine honorable Mistris
Ol.Cou. Nay a mother, why not a mother? when I sed a mother Me thought you saw a serpent, what's in mother, That you start at it? I say I am your mother, And put you in the Catalogue of those That were enwombed mine, 'tis often seene Adoption striues with nature, and choise breedes A natiue slip to vs from forraine seedes: You nere opprest me with a mothers groane, Yet I expresse to you a mothers care, (Gods mercie maiden) dos it curd thy blood To say I am thy mother? what's the matter, That this distempered messenger of wet? The manie colour'd Iris rounds thine eye? - Why, that you are my daughter? Hell. That I am not
Old.Cou. I say I am your Mother
Hell. Pardon Madam. The Count Rosillion cannot be my brother: I am from humble, he from honored name: No note vpon my Parents, his all noble, My Master, my deere Lord he is, and I His seruant liue, and will his vassall die: He must not be my brother
Ol.Cou. Nor I your Mother
Hell. You are my mother Madam, would you were So that my Lord your sonne were not my brother, Indeede my mother, or were you both our mothers, I care no more for, then I doe for heauen, So I were not his sister, cant no other, But I your daughter, he must be my brother
Old.Cou. Yes Hellen, you might be my daughter in law, God shield you meane it not, daughter and mother So striue vpon your pulse; what pale agen? My feare hath catcht your fondnesse! now I see The mistrie of your louelinesse, and finde Your salt teares head, now to all sence 'tis grosse: You loue my sonne, inuention is asham'd Against the proclamation of thy passion To say thou doost not: therefore tell me true, But tell me then 'tis so, for looke, thy cheekes Confesse it 'ton tooth to th' other, and thine eies See it so grosely showne in thy behauiours, That in their kinde they speake it, onely sinne And hellish obstinacie tye thy tongue That truth should be suspected, speake, ist so? If it be so, you haue wound a goodly clewe: If it be not, forsweare't how ere I charge thee, As heauen shall worke in me for thine auaile To tell me truelie
Hell. Good Madam pardon me
Cou. Do you loue my Sonne? Hell. Your pardon noble Mistris
Cou. Loue you my Sonne? Hell. Doe not you loue him Madam? Cou. Goe not about; my loue hath in't a bond Whereof the world takes note: Come, come, disclose: The state of your affection, for your passions Haue to the full appeach'd
Hell. Then I confesse Here on my knee, before high heauen and you, That before you, and next vnto high heauen, I loue your Sonne: My friends were poore but honest, so's my loue: Be not offended, for it hurts not him That he is lou'd of me; I follow him not By any token of presumptuous suite, Nor would I haue him, till I doe deserue him, Yet neuer know how that desert should be: I know I loue in vaine, striue against hope: Yet in this captious, and intemible Siue. I still poure in the waters of my loue And lacke not to loose still; thus Indian like Religious in mine error, I adore The Sunne that lookes vpon his worshipper, But knowes of him no more. My deerest Madam, Let not your hate incounter with my loue, For louing where you doe; but if your selfe, Whose aged honor cites a vertuous youth, Did euer, in so true a flame of liking, Wish chastly, and loue dearely, that your Dian Was both her selfe and loue, O then giue pittie To her whose state is such, that cannot choose But lend and giue where she is sure to loose; That seekes not to finde that, her search implies, But riddle like, liues sweetely where she dies
Cou. Had you not lately an intent, speake truely, To goe to Paris? Hell. Madam I had
Cou. Wherefore? tell true
Hell. I will tell truth, by grace it selfe I sweare: You know my Father left me some prescriptions Of rare and prou'd effects, such as his reading And manifest experience, had collected For generall soueraigntie: and that he wil'd me In heedefull'st reseruation to bestow them, As notes, whose faculties inclusiue were, More then they were in note: Amongst the rest, There is a remedie, approu'd, set downe, To cure the desperate languishings whereof The King is render'd lost
Cou. This was your motiue for Paris, was it, speake? Hell. My Lord, your sonne, made me to think of this; Else Paris, and the medicine, and the King, Had from the conuersation of my thoughts, Happily beene absent then
Cou. But thinke you Hellen, If you should tender your supposed aide, He would receiue it? He and his Phisitions Are of a minde, he, that they cannot helpe him: They, that they cannot helpe, how shall they credit A poore vnlearned Virgin, when the Schooles Embowel'd of their doctrine, haue left off The danger to it selfe
Hell. There's something in't More then my Fathers skill, which was the great'st Of his profession, that his good receipt, Shall for my legacie be sanctified Byth' luckiest stars in heauen, and would your honor But giue me leaue to trie successe, I'de venture The well lost life of mine, on his Graces cure, By such a day, an houre
Cou. Doo'st thou beleeue't? Hell. I Madam knowingly
Cou. Why Hellen thou shalt haue my leaue and loue, Meanes and attendants, and my louing greetings To those of mine in Court, Ile staie at home And praie Gods blessing into thy attempt: Begon to morrow, and be sure of this, What I can helpe thee to, thou shalt not misse.
Exeunt.
Actus Secundus.
Enter the King with diuers yong Lords, taking leaue for the Florentine warre: Count, Rosse, and Parrolles. Florish Cornets.
King. Farewell yong Lords, these warlike principles Doe not throw from you, and you my Lords farewell: Share the aduice betwixt you, if both gaine, all The guift doth stretch it selfe as 'tis receiu'd, And is enough for both
Lord.G. 'Tis our hope sir, After well entred souldiers, to returne And finde your grace in health
King. No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart Will not confesse he owes the mallady That doth my life besiege: farwell yong Lords, Whether I liue or die, be you the sonnes Of worthy French men: let higher Italy (Those bated that inherit but the fall Of the last Monarchy) see that you come Not to wooe honour, but to wed it, when The brauest questant shrinkes: finde what you seeke, That fame may cry you loud: I say farewell
L.G. Health at your bidding serue your Maiesty
King. Those girles of Italy, take heed of them, They say our French, lacke language to deny If they demand: beware of being Captiues Before you serue
Bo. Our hearts receiue your warnings
King. Farewell, come hether to me
1.Lo.G. Oh my sweet Lord y you wil stay behind vs
Parr. 'Tis not his fault the spark
2.Lo.E. Oh 'tis braue warres
Parr. Most admirable, I haue seene those warres
Rossill. I am commanded here, and kept a coyle with, Too young, and the next yeere, and 'tis too early
Parr. And thy minde stand too't boy, Steale away brauely
Rossill. I shal stay here the for-horse to a smocke, Creeking my shooes on the plaine Masonry, Till honour be bought vp, and no sword worne But one to dance with: by heauen, Ile steale away
1.Lo.G. There's honour in the theft
Parr. Commit it Count
2.Lo.E. I am your accessary, and so farewell
Ros. I grow to you, & our parting is a tortur'd body
1.Lo.G. Farewell Captaine
2.Lo.E. Sweet Mounsier Parolles
Parr. Noble Heroes; my sword and yours are kinne, good sparkes and lustrous, a word good mettals. You shall finde in the Regiment of the Spinij, one Captaine Spurio his sicatrice, with an Embleme of warre heere on his sinister cheeke; it was this very sword entrench'd it: say to him I liue, and obserue his reports for me
Lo.G. We shall noble Captaine
Parr. Mars doate on you for his nouices, what will ye doe? Ross. Stay the King
Parr. Vse a more spacious ceremonie to the Noble Lords, you haue restrain'd your selfe within the List of too cold an adieu: be more expressiue to them; for they weare themselues in the cap of the time, there do muster true gate; eat, speake, and moue vnder the influence of the most receiu'd starre, and though the deuill leade the measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell
Ross. And I will doe so
Parr. Worthy fellowes, and like to prooue most sinewie sword-men.
Exeunt.
Enter Lafew.
L.Laf. Pardon my Lord for mee and for my tidings
King. Ile see thee to stand vp
L.Laf. Then heres a man stands that has brought his pardon, I would you had kneel'd my Lord to aske me mercy, And that at my bidding you could so stand vp
King. I would I had, so I had broke thy pate And askt thee mercy for't
Laf. Goodfaith a-crosse, but my good Lord 'tis thus, Will you be cur'd of your infirmitie? King. No
Laf. O will you eat no grapes my royall foxe? Yes but you will, my noble grapes, and if My royall foxe could reach them: I haue seen a medicine That's able to breath life into a stone, Quicken a rocke, and make you dance Canari With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch Is powerfull to arayse King Pippen, nay To giue great Charlemaine a pen in's hand And write to her a loue-line
King. What her is this? Laf. Why doctor she: my Lord, there's one arriu'd, If you will see her: now by my faith and honour, If seriously I may conuay my thoughts In this my light deliuerance, I haue spoke With one, that in her sexe, her yeeres, profession, Wisedome and constancy, hath amaz'd mee more Then I dare blame my weakenesse: will you see her? For that is her demand, and know her businesse? That done, laugh well at me
King. Now good Lafew, Bring in the admiration, that we with thee May spend our wonder too, or take off thine By wondring how thou tookst it
Laf. Nay, Ile fit you, And not be all day neither
King. Thus he his speciall nothing euer prologues
Laf. Nay, come your waies. Enter Hellen.
King. This haste hath wings indeed
Laf. Nay, come your waies, This is his Maiestie, say your minde to him, A Traitor you doe looke like, but such traitors His Maiesty seldome feares, I am Cresseds Vncle, That dare leaue two together, far you well. Enter.
King. Now faire one, do's your busines follow vs? Hel. I my good Lord, Gerard de Narbon was my father, In what he did professe, well found
King. I knew him
Hel. The rather will I spare my praises towards him, Knowing him is enough: on's bed of death, Many receits he gaue me, chieflie one, Which as the dearest issue of his practice And of his olde experience, th' onlie darling, He bad me store vp, as a triple eye, Safer then mine owne two: more deare I haue so, And hearing your high Maiestie is toucht With that malignant cause, wherein the honour Of my deare fathers gift, stands cheefe in power, I come to tender it, and my appliance, With all bound humblenesse
King. We thanke you maiden, But may not be so credulous of cure, When our most learned Doctors leaue vs, and The congregated Colledge haue concluded, That labouring Art can neuer ransome nature From her inaydible estate: I say we must not So staine our iudgement, or corrupt our hope, To prostitute our past-cure malladie To empericks, or to disseuer so Our great selfe and our credit, to esteeme A sencelesse helpe, when helpe past sence we deeme
Hell. My dutie then shall pay me for my paines: I will no more enforce mine office on you, Humbly intreating from your royall thoughts, A modest one to beare me backe againe
King. I cannot giue thee lesse to be cal'd gratefull: Thou thoughtst to helpe me, and such thankes I giue, As one neere death to those that wish him liue: But what at full I know, thou knowst no part, I knowing all my perill, thou no Art
Hell. What I can doe, can doe no hurt to try, Since you set vp your rest 'gainst remedie: He that of greatest workes is finisher, Oft does them by the weakest minister: So holy Writ, in babes hath iudgement showne, When Iudges haue bin babes; great flouds haue flowne From simple sources: and great Seas haue dried When Miracles haue by the great'st beene denied. Oft expectation failes, and most oft there Where most it promises: and oft it hits, Where hope is coldest, and despaire most shifts
King. I must not heare thee, fare thee wel kind maide, Thy paines not vs'd, must by thy selfe be paid, Proffers not tooke, reape thanks for their reward
Hel. Inspired Merit so by breath is bard, It is not so with him that all things knowes As 'tis with vs, that square our guesse by showes: But most it is presumption in vs, when The help of heauen we count the act of men. Deare sir, to my endeauors giue consent, Of heauen, not me, make an experiment. I am not an Imposture, that proclaime My selfe against the leuill of mine aime, But know I thinke, and thinke I know most sure, My Art is not past power, nor you past cure
King. Art thou so confident? Within what space Hop'st thou my cure? Hel. The greatest grace lending grace, Ere twice the horses of the sunne shall bring Their fiery torcher his diurnall ring, Ere twice in murke and occidentall dampe Moist Hesperus hath quench'd her sleepy Lampe: Or foure and twenty times the Pylots glasse Hath told the theeuish minutes, how they passe: What is infirme, from your sound parts shall flie, Health shall liue free, and sickenesse freely dye
King. Vpon thy certainty and confidence, What dar'st thou venter? Hell. Taxe of impudence, A strumpets boldnesse, a divulged shame Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maidens name Seard otherwise, ne worse of worst extended With vildest torture, let my life be ended
Kin. Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak His powerfull sound, within an organ weake: And what impossibility would slay In common sence, sence saues another way: Thy life is deere, for all that life can rate Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate: Youth, beauty, wisedome, courage, all That happines and prime, can happy call: Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate, Sweet practiser, thy Physicke I will try, That ministers thine owne death if I die
Hel. If I breake time, or flinch in property Of what I spoke, vnpittied let me die, And well deseru'd: not helping, death's my fee, But if I helpe, what doe you promise me
Kin. Make thy demand
Hel. But will you make it euen? Kin. I by my Scepter, and my hopes of helpe
Hel. Then shalt thou giue me with thy kingly hand What husband in thy power I will command: Exempted be from me the arrogance To choose from forth the royall bloud of France, My low and humble name to propagate With any branch or image of thy state: But such a one thy vassall, whom I know Is free for me to aske, thee to bestow
Kin. Heere is my hand, the premises obseru'd, Thy will by my performance shall be seru'd: So make the choice of thy owne time, for I Thy resolv'd Patient, on thee still relye: More should I question thee, and more I must, Though more to know, could not be more to trust: From whence thou cam'st, how tended on, but rest Vnquestion'd welcome, and vndoubted blest. Giue me some helpe heere hoa, if thou proceed, As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.
Florish. Exit.
Enter Countesse and Clowne.
Lady. Come on sir, I shall now put you to the height of your breeding
Clown. I will shew my selfe highly fed, and lowly taught, I know my businesse is but to the Court
Lady. To the Court, why what place make you speciall, when you put off that with such contempt, but to the Court? Clo. Truly Madam, if God haue lent a man any manners, hee may easilie put it off at Court: hee that cannot make a legge, put off's cap, kisse his hand, and say nothing, has neither legge, hands, lippe, nor cap; and indeed such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the Court, but for me, I haue an answere will serue all men
Lady. Marry that's a bountifull answere that fits all questions
Clo. It is like a Barbers chaire that fits all buttockes, the pin buttocke, the quatch-buttocke, the brawn buttocke, or any buttocke
Lady. Will your answere serue fit to all questions? Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an Atturney, as your French Crowne for your taffety punke, as Tibs rush for Toms fore-finger, as a pancake for Shroue-tuesday, a Morris for May-day, as the naile to his hole, the Cuckold to his horne, as a scolding queane to a wrangling knaue, as the Nuns lip to the Friers mouth, nay as the pudding to his skin
Lady. Haue you, I say, an answere of such fitnesse for all questions? Clo. From below your Duke, to beneath your Constable, it will fit any question
Lady. It must be an answere of most monstrous size, that must fit all demands
Clo. But a triflle neither in good faith, if the learned should speake truth of it: heere it is, and all that belongs to't. Aske mee if I am a Courtier, it shall doe you no harme to learne
Lady. To be young againe if we could: I will bee a foole in question, hoping to bee the wiser by your answer
La. I pray you sir, are you a Courtier? Clo. O Lord sir theres a simple putting off: more, more, a hundred of them
La. Sir I am a poore freind of yours, that loues you
Clo. O Lord sir, thicke, thicke, spare not me
La. I thinke sir, you can eate none of this homely meate
Clo. O Lord sir; nay put me too't, I warrant you
La. You were lately whipt sir as I thinke
Clo. O Lord sir, spare not me
La. Doe you crie O Lord sir at your whipping, and spare not me? Indeed your O Lord sir, is very sequent to your whipping: you would answere very well to a whipping if you were but bound too't
Clo. I nere had worse lucke in my life in my O Lord sir: I see things may serue long, but not serue euer
La. I play the noble huswife with the time, to entertaine it so merrily with a foole
Clo. O Lord sir, why there't serues well agen
La. And end sir to your businesse: giue Hellen this, And vrge her to a present answer backe, Commend me to my kinsmen, and my sonne, This is not much
Clo. Not much commendation to them
La. Not much imployement for you, you vnderstand me
Clo. Most fruitfully, I am there, before my legges
La. Hast you agen.
Exeunt.
Enter Count, Lafew, and Parolles.
Ol.Laf. They say miracles are past, and we haue our Philosophicall persons, to make moderne and familiar things supernaturall and causelesse. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrours, ensconcing our selues into seeming knowledge, when we should submit our selues to an vnknowne feare
Par. Why 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that hath shot out in our latter times
Ros. And so 'tis
Ol.Laf. To be relinquisht of the Artists
Par. So I say both of Galen and Paracelsus
Ol.Laf. Of all the learned and authenticke fellowes
Par. Right so I say
Ol.Laf. That gaue him out incureable
Par. Why there 'tis, so say I too
Ol.Laf. Not to be help'd
Par. Right, as 'twere a man assur'd of a- Ol.Laf. Vncertaine life, and sure death
Par. Iust, you say well: so would I haue said
Ol.Laf. I may truly say, it is a noueltie to the world
Par. It is indeede if you will haue it in shewing, you shall reade it in what do ye call there
Ol.Laf. A shewing of a heauenly effect in an earthly Actor
Par. That's it, I would haue said, the verie same
Ol.Laf. Why your Dolphin is not lustier: fore mee I speake in respect- Par. Nay 'tis strange, 'tis very straunge, that is the breefe and the tedious of it, and he's of a most facinerious spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the- Ol.Laf. Very hand of heauen
Par. I, so I say
Ol.Laf. In a most weake- Par. And debile minister great power, great trancendence, which should indeede giue vs a further vse to be made, then alone the recou'ry of the king, as to bee Old Laf. Generally thankfull. Enter King, Hellen, and attendants.
Par. I would haue said it, you say well: heere comes the King
Ol.Laf. Lustique, as the Dutchman saies: Ile like a maide the Better whil'st I haue a tooth in my head: why he's able to leade her a Carranto
Par. Mor du vinager, is not this Helen? Ol.Laf. Fore God I thinke so
King. Goe call before mee all the Lords in Court, Sit my preseruer by thy patients side, And with this healthfull hand whose banisht sence Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receyue The confirmation of my promis'd guift, Which but attends thy naming. Enter 3 or 4 Lords.
Faire Maide send forth thine eye, this youthfull parcell Of Noble Batchellors, stand at my bestowing, Ore whom both Soueraigne power, and fathers voice I haue to vse; thy franke election make, Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake
Hel. To each of you, one faire and vertuous Mistris; Fall when loue please, marry to each but one
Old Laf. I'de giue bay curtall, and his furniture My mouth no more were broken then these boyes, And writ as little beard
King. Peruse them well: Not one of those, but had a Noble father.
She addresses her to a Lord.
Hel. Gentlemen, heauen hath through me, restor'd the king to health
All. We vnderstand it, and thanke heauen for you
Hel. I am a simple Maide, and therein wealthiest That I protest, I simply am a Maide: Please it your Maiestie, I haue done already: The blushes in my cheekes thus whisper mee, We blush that thou shouldst choose, but be refused; Let the white death sit on thy cheeke for euer, Wee'l nere come there againe
King. Make choise and see, Who shuns thy loue, shuns all his loue in mee
Hel. Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly, And to imperiall loue, that God most high Do my sighes streame: Sir, wil you heare my suite? 1.Lo. And grant it
Hel. Thankes sir, all the rest is mute
Ol.Laf. I had rather be in this choise, then throw Ames-ace for my life
Hel. The honor sir that flames in your faire eyes, Before I speake too threatningly replies: Loue make your fortunes twentie times aboue Her that so wishes, and her humble loue
2.Lo. No better if you please
Hel. My wish receiue, Which great loue grant, and so I take my leaue
Ol.Laf. Do all they denie her? And they were sons of mine, I'de haue them whip'd, or I would send them to'th Turke to make Eunuches of
Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand should take, Ile neuer do you wrong for your owne sake: Blessing vpon your vowes, and in your bed Finde fairer fortune, if you euer wed
Old Laf. These boyes are boyes of Ice, they'le none haue heere: sure they are bastards to the English, the French nere got em
La. You are too young, too happie, and too good To make your selfe a sonne out of my blood
4.Lord. Faire one, I thinke not so
Ol.Lord There's one grape yet, I am sure thy father drunke wine. But if thou be'st not an asse, I am a youth of fourteene: I haue knowne thee already
Hel. I dare not say I take you, but I giue Me and my seruice, euer whilst I liue Into your guiding power: This is the man
King. Why then young Bertram take her shee's thy wife
Ber. My wife my Leige? I shal beseech your highnes In such a busines, giue me leaue to vse The helpe of mine owne eies
King. Know'st thou not Bertram what shee ha's done for mee? Ber. Yes my good Lord, but neuer hope to know why I should marrie her
King. Thou know'st shee ha's rais'd me from my sickly bed
Ber. But followes it my Lord, to bring me downe Must answer for your raising? I knowe her well: Shee had her breeding at my fathers charge: A poore Physitians daughter my wife? Disdaine Rather corrupt me euer
King. Tis onely title thou disdainst in her, the which I can build vp: strange is it that our bloods Of colour, waight, and heat, pour'd all together, Would quite confound distinction: yet stands off In differences so mightie. If she bee All that is vertuous (saue what thou dislik'st) A poore Phisitians daughter, thou dislik'st Of vertue for the name: but doe not so: From lowest place, whence vertuous things proceed, The place is dignified by th' doers deede. Where great additions swell's, and vertue none, It is a dropsied honour. Good alone, Is good without a name? Vilenesse is so: The propertie by what is is, should go, Not by the title. Shee is young, wise, faire, In these, to Nature shee's immediate heire: And these breed honour: that is honours scorne, Which challenges it selfe as honours borne, And is not like the sire: Honours thriue, When rather from our acts we them deriue Then our fore-goers: the meere words, a slaue Debosh'd on euerie tombe, on euerie graue: A lying Trophee, and as oft is dumbe, Where dust, and damn'd obliuion is the Tombe. Of honour'd bones indeed, what should be saide? If thou canst like this creature, as a maide, I can create the rest: Vertue, and shee Is her owne dower: Honour and wealth, from mee
Ber. I cannot loue her, nor will striue to doo't
King. Thou wrong'st thy selfe, if thou shold'st striue to choose
Hel. That you are well restor'd my Lord, I'me glad: Let the rest go
King. My Honor's at the stake, which to defeate I must produce my power. Heere, take her hand, Proud scornfull boy, vnworthie this good gift, That dost in vile misprision shackle vp My loue, and her desert: that canst not dreame, We poizing vs in her defectiue scale, Shall weigh thee to the beame: That wilt not know, It is in Vs to plant thine Honour, where We please to haue it grow. Checke thy contempt: Obey Our will, which trauailes in thy good: Beleeue not thy disdaine, but presentlie Do thine owne fortunes that obedient right Which both thy dutie owes, and Our power claimes, Or I will throw thee from my care for euer Into the staggers, and the carelesse lapse Of youth and ignorance: both my reuenge and hate Loosing vpon thee, in the name of iustice, Without all termes of pittie. Speake, thine answer
Ber. Pardon my gracious Lord: for I submit My fancie to your eies, when I consider What great creation, and what dole of honour Flies where you bid it: I finde that she which late Was in my Nobler thoughts, most base: is now The praised of the King, who so ennobled, Is as 'twere borne so
King. Take her by the hand, And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise A counterpoize: If not to thy estate, A ballance more repleat
Ber. I take her hand
Kin. Good fortune, and the fauour of the King Smile vpon this Contract: whose Ceremonie Shall seeme expedient on the now borne briefe, And be perform'd to night: the solemne Feast Shall more attend vpon the coming space, Expecting absent friends. As thou lou'st her, Thy loue's to me Religious: else, do's erre.
Exeunt.
Parolles and Lafew stay behind, commenting of this wedding.
Laf. Do you heare Monsieur? A word with you
Par. Your pleasure sir
Laf. Your Lord and Master did well to make his recantation
Par. Recantation? My Lord? my Master? Laf. I: Is it not a Language I speake? Par. A most harsh one, and not to bee vnderstoode without bloudie succeeding. My Master? Laf. Are you Companion to the Count Rosillion? Par. To any Count, to all Counts: to what is man
Laf. To what is Counts man: Counts maister is of another stile
Par. You are too old sir: Let it satisfie you, you are too old
Laf. I must tell thee sirrah, I write Man: to which title age cannot bring thee
Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do
Laf. I did thinke thee for two ordinaries: to bee a prettie wise fellow, thou didst make tollerable vent of thy trauell, it might passe: yet the scarffes and the bannerets about thee, did manifoldlie disswade me from beleeuing thee a vessell of too great a burthen. I haue now found thee, when I loose thee againe, I care not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking vp, and that th'ourt scarce worth
Par. Hadst thou not the priuiledge of Antiquity vpon thee
Laf. Do not plundge thy selfe to farre in anger, least thou hasten thy triall: which if, Lord haue mercie on thee for a hen, so my good window of Lettice fare thee well, thy casement I neede not open, for I look through thee. Giue me thy hand
Par. My Lord, you giue me most egregious indignity
Laf. I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it
Par. I haue not my Lord deseru'd it
Laf. Yes good faith, eu'ry dramme of it, and I will not bate thee a scruple
Par. Well, I shall be wiser
Laf. Eu'n as soone as thou can'st, for thou hast to pull at a smacke a'th contrarie. If euer thou bee'st bound in thy skarfe and beaten, thou shall finde what it is to be proud of thy bondage, I haue a desire to holde my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in the default, he is a man I know
Par. My Lord you do me most insupportable vexation
Laf. I would it were hell paines for thy sake, and my poore doing eternall: for doing I am past, as I will by thee, in what motion age will giue me leaue. Enter.
Par. Well, thou hast a sonne shall take this disgrace off me; scuruy, old, filthy, scuruy Lord: Well, I must be patient, there is no fettering of authority. Ile beate him (by my life) if I can meete him with any conuenience, and he were double and double a Lord. Ile haue no more pittie of his age then I would haue of- Ile beate him, and if I could but meet him agen. Enter Lafew.
Laf. Sirra, your Lord and masters married, there's newes for you: you haue a new Mistris
Par. I most vnfainedly beseech your Lordshippe to make some reseruation of your wrongs. He is my good Lord, whom I serue aboue is my master
Laf. Who? God
Par. I sir
Laf. The deuill it is, that's thy master. Why dooest thou garter vp thy armes a this fashion? Dost make hose of thy sleeues? Do other seruants so? Thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine Honor, if I were but two houres yonger, I'de beate thee: mee-think'st thou art a generall offence, and euery man shold beate thee: I thinke thou wast created for men to breath themselues vpon thee
Par. This is hard and vndeserued measure my Lord
Laf. Go too sir, you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernell out of a Pomgranat, you are a vagabond, and no true traueller: you are more sawcie with Lordes and honourable personages, then the Commission of your birth and vertue giues you Heraldry. You are not worth another word, else I'de call you knaue. I leaue you.
Exit
Enter Count Rossillion.
Par. Good, very good, it is so then: good, very good, let it be conceal'd awhile
Ros. Vndone, and forfeited to cares for euer
Par. What's the matter sweet-heart? Rossill. Although before the solemne Priest I haue sworne, I will not bed her
Par. What? what sweet heart? Ros. O my Parrolles, they haue married me: Ile to the Tuscan warres, and neuer bed her
Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits, The tread of a mans foot: too'th warres
Ros. There's letters from my mother: What th' import is, I know not yet
Par. I that would be knowne: too'th warrs my boy, too'th warres: He weares his honor in a boxe vnseene, That hugges his kickie wickie heare at home, Spending his manlie marrow in her armes Which should sustaine the bound and high curuet Of Marses fierie steed: to other Regions, France is a stable, wee that dwell in't Iades, Therefore too'th warre
Ros. It shall be so, Ile send her to my house, Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, And wherefore I am fled: Write to the King That which I durst not speake. His present gift Shall furnish me to those Italian fields Where noble fellowes strike: Warres is no strife To the darke house, and the detected wife
Par. Will this Caprichio hold in thee, art sure? Ros. Go with me to my chamber, and aduice me. Ile send her straight away: To morrow, Ile to the warres, she to her single sorrow
Par. Why these bals bound, ther's noise in it. Tis hard A yong man maried, is a man that's mard: Therefore away, and leaue her brauely: go, The King ha's done you wrong: but hush 'tis so.
Exit
Enter Helena and Clowne.
Hel. My mother greets me kindly, is she well? Clo. She is not well, but yet she has her health, she's very merrie, but yet she is not well: but thankes be giuen she's very well, and wants nothing i'th world: but yet she is not well
Hel. If she be verie wel, what do's she ayle, that she's not verie well? Clo. Truly she's very well indeed, but for two things Hel. What two things? Clo. One, that she's not in heauen, whether God send her quickly: the other, that she's in earth, from whence God send her quickly. Enter Parolles.
Par. Blesse you my fortunate Ladie
Hel. I hope sir I haue your good will to haue mine owne good fortune
Par. You had my prayers to leade them on, and to keepe them on, haue them still. O my knaue, how do's my old Ladie? Clo. So that you had her wrinkles, and I her money, I would she did as you say
Par. Why I say nothing
Clo. Marry you are the wiser man: for many a mans tongue shakes out his masters vndoing: to say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to haue nothing, is to be a great part of your title, which is within a verie little of nothing
Par. Away, th'art a knaue
Clo. You should haue said sir before a knaue, th'art a knaue, that's before me th'art a knaue: this had beene truth sir
Par. Go too, thou art a wittie foole, I haue found thee
Clo. Did you finde me in your selfe sir, or were you taught to finde me? Clo. The search sir was profitable, and much Foole may you find in you, euen to the worlds pleasure, and the encrease of laughter
Par. A good knaue ifaith, and well fed. Madam, my Lord will go awaie to night, A verie serrious businesse call's on him: The great prerogatiue and rite of loue, Which as your due time claimes, he do's acknowledge, But puts it off to a compell'd restraint: Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets Which they distill now in the curbed time, To make the comming houre oreflow with ioy, And pleasure drowne the brim
Hel. What's his will else? Par. That you will take your instant leaue a'th king, And make this hast as your owne good proceeding, Strengthned with what Apologie you thinke May make it probable neede
Hel. What more commands hee? Par. That hauing this obtain'd, you presentlie Attend his further pleasure
Hel. In euery thing I waite vpon his will
Par. I shall report it so.
Exit Par.
Hell. I pray you come sirrah.
Exit
Enter Lafew and Bertram.
Laf. But I hope your Lordshippe thinkes not him a souldier
Ber. Yes my Lord and of verie valiant approofe
Laf. You haue it from his owne deliuerance
Ber. And by other warranted testimonie
Laf. Then my Diall goes not true, I tooke this Larke for a bunting
Ber. I do assure you my Lord he is very great in knowledge, and accordinglie valiant
Laf. I haue then sinn'd against his experience, and transgrest against his valour, and my state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent: Heere he comes, I pray you make vs freinds, I will pursue the amitie. Enter Parolles.
Par. These things shall be done sir
Laf. Pray you sir whose his Tailor? Par. Sir? Laf. O I know him well, I sir, hee sirs a good workeman, a verie good Tailor
Ber. Is shee gone to the king? Par. Shee is
Ber. Will shee away to night? Par. As you'le haue her
Ber. I haue writ my letters, casketted my treasure, Giuen order for our horses, and to night, When I should take possession of the Bride, And ere I doe begin
Laf. A good Trauailer is something at the latter end of a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and vses a known truth to passe a thousand nothings with, should bee once hard, and thrice beaten. God saue you Captaine
Ber. Is there any vnkindnes betweene my Lord and you Monsieur? Par. I know not how I haue deserued to run into my Lords displeasure
Laf. You haue made shift to run into't, bootes and spurres and all: like him that leapt into the Custard, and out of it you'le runne againe, rather then suffer question for your residence
Ber. It may bee you haue mistaken him my Lord
Laf. And shall doe so euer, though I tooke him at's prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and beleeue this of me, there can be no kernell in this light Nut: the soule of this man is his cloathes: Trust him not in matter of heauie consequence: I haue kept of them tame, & know their natures. Farewell Monsieur, I haue spoken better of you, then you haue or will to deserue at my hand, but we must do good against euill
Par. An idle Lord, I sweare
Ber. I thinke so
Par. Why do you not know him? Ber. Yes, I do know him well, and common speech Giues him a worthy passe. Heere comes my clog. Enter Helena.
Hel. I haue sir as I was commanded from you Spoke with the King, and haue procur'd his leaue For present parting, onely he desires Some priuate speech with you
Ber. I shall obey his will. You must not meruaile Helen at my course, Which holds not colour with the time, nor does The ministration, and required office On my particular. Prepar'd I was not For such a businesse, therefore am I found So much vnsetled: This driues me to intreate you, That presently you take your way for home, And rather muse then aske why I intreate you, For my respects are better then they seeme, And my appointments haue in them a neede Greater then shewes it selfe at the first view, To you that know them not. This to my mother, 'Twill be two daies ere I shall see you, so I leaue you to your wisedome
Hel. Sir, I can nothing say, But that I am your most obedient seruant
Ber. Come, come, no more of that
Hel. And euer shall With true obseruance seeke to eeke out that Wherein toward me my homely starres haue faild To equall my great fortune
Ber. Let that goe: my hast is verie great. Farwell: Hie home
Hel. Pray sir your pardon
Ber. Well, what would you say? Hel. I am not worthie of the wealth I owe, Nor dare I say 'tis mine: and yet it is, But like a timorous theefe, most faine would steale What law does vouch mine owne
Ber. What would you haue? Hel. Something, and scarse so much: nothing indeed, I would not tell you what I would my Lord: Faith yes, Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kisse
Ber. I pray you stay not, but in hast to horse
Hel. I shall not breake your bidding, good my Lord: Where are my other men? Monsieur, farwell.
Exit
Ber. Go thou toward home, where I wil neuer come, Whilst I can shake my sword, or heare the drumme: Away, and for our flight
Par. Brauely, Coragio.
Actus Tertius.
Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, the two Frenchmen, with a troope of Souldiers.
Duke. So that from point to point, now haue you heard The fundamentall reasons of this warre, Whose great decision hath much blood let forth And more thirsts after
1.Lord. Holy seemes the quarrell Vpon your Graces part: blacke and fearefull On the opposer
Duke. Therefore we meruaile much our Cosin France Would in so iust a businesse, shut his bosome Against our borrowing prayers
French E. Good my Lord, The reasons of our state I cannot yeelde, But like a common and an outward man, That the great figure of a Counsaile frames, By selfe vnable motion, therefore dare not Say what I thinke of it, since I haue found My selfe in my incertaine grounds to faile As often as I guest
Duke. Be it his pleasure
Fren.G. But I am sure the yonger of our nature, That surfet on their ease, will day by day Come heere for Physicke
Duke. Welcome shall they bee: And all the honors that can flye from vs, Shall on them settle: you know your places well, When better fall, for your auailes they fell, To morrow to'th the field.
Flourish.
Enter Countesse and Clowne.
Count. It hath happen'd all, as I would haue had it, saue that he comes not along with her
Clo. By my troth I take my young Lord to be a verie melancholly man
Count. By what obseruance I pray you
Clo. Why he will looke vppon his boote, and sing: mend the Ruffe and sing, aske questions and sing, picke his teeth, and sing: I know a man that had this tricke of melancholy hold a goodly Mannor for a song
Lad. Let me see what he writes, and when he meanes to come
Clow. I haue no minde to Isbell since I was at Court. Our old Lings, and our Isbels a'th Country, are nothing like your old Ling and your Isbels a'th Court: the brains of my Cupid's knock'd out, and I beginne to loue, as an old man loues money, with no stomacke
Lad. What haue we heere? Clo. In that you haue there.
Exit
A Letter.
I haue sent you a daughter-in-Law, shee hath recouered the King, and vndone me: I haue wedded her, not bedded her, and sworne to make the not eternall. You shall heare I am runne away, know it before the report come. If there bee bredth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you. Your vnfortunate sonne, Bertram. This is not well rash and vnbridled boy, To flye the fauours of so good a King, To plucke his indignation on thy head, By the misprising of a Maide too vertuous For the contempt of Empire. Enter Clowne.
Clow. O Madam, yonder is heauie newes within betweene two souldiers, and my yong Ladie
La. What is the matter
Clo. Nay there is some comfort in the newes, some comfort, your sonne will not be kild so soone as I thoght he would
La. Why should he be kill'd? Clo. So say I Madame, if he runne away, as I heare he does, the danger is in standing too't, that's the losse of men, though it be the getting of children. Heere they come will tell you more. For my