It is not so with him that all things knows, But know I think, and think I know most sure, SCENE II. A Room in the Rousillon. Enter COUNTESS and Clown. Count. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your breeding. Clo. I will show myself highly fed, and lowly taught: I know my business is but to the court. Count. To the court! why, what place make you special, when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court. Clo. Truly, madam, if nature have lent a man any manners, he may easily put it off at court; he that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand, and say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and, indeed, such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the court: but, for me, I have an answer will serve all men. Count. Will your answer serve fit to all questions? Clo. As fit as ten groats for the hand of an attorney, as a pancake for Shrove-Tuesday, or a morris for May-day. Count. Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all questions? Clo. From below your duke, to beneath your constable, it will fit any question. Count. It must be an answer of most monstrous size, that must fit all demands. Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the King. Methinks, in thee some blessed spirit doth learned should speak truth of it: here it is, and all speak; His powerful sound, within an organ weak : In common sense, sense saves another way. Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die; But will you make it even? King. Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven. Hel. Then shalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand, What husband in thy power I will command: To choose from forth the royal blood of France; King. Here is my hand; the premises observ'd, rest that belongs to't: Ask me, if I am a courtier; it shall do you no harm to learn. Count. An end, sir, to your business: Give Helen this, And urge her to a present answer back : Clo. Not much commendation to them. Count. Not much employment for you: You understand me? Clo. Most fruitfully; I am there before my legs. Count. Haste you again. SCENE III. - Paris. [Exeunt severally. A Room in the King's Palace. Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. Laf They say, miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar things, supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear. Par. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that hath shot out in our latter times. Ber. And so 'tis. Laf. To be relinquished of the artists, Laf. That gave him out incurable, — -- Par. Right: as 'twere, a man assured of an — Laf. Uncertain life, and sure death. Par. Just, you say well; so would I have said. Laf. I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. Par. It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you shall read it in -What do you call there? 2 Ordinary Laf. A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. Par. That's it I would have said; the very same. Laf. Why, your dolphin $ is not lustier: 'fore me I speak in respect · Par. Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he is of a most facinorous spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the Laf. Very hand of heaven. Par. And debile minister, great power, great transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made, than alone the recovery of the king, as to be Laf. Generally thankful. Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. Par. I would have said it; you say well. comes the king. Here Laf. Lustick 5, as the Dutchman says: I'll like King. Go, call before me all the lords in court. — Enter several Lords. Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel King. Hel. Gentlemen, Heaven hath through me restor❜d the king to health. King. Hel. Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. Hel. Be not afraid [To a Lord.] that I your hand I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: Laf. These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her. Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good. 4 Lord. Fair one, I think not so. Laf. There's one grape yet,- I am sure, thy father drank wine. But if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already. Hel. I dare not say, I take you; [To BERTRAM.] but I give Me, and my service, ever whilst I live, King. Why then, young Bertram, take her, she's thy wife. Ber. My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your In such a business give me leave to use Know'st thou not, Bertram, What she has done for me? Ber. sickly bed. Ber. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down King. 'Tis only title 8thou disdain'st in her, the which Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw Where dust, and deep oblivion, is the tomb ames-ace 7 for my life. Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? I can create the rest: virtue, and she, Hel. That you are well restor'd, my lord, I'm glad; Let the rest go. King. My honour's at the stake; which to defeat, My love and her desert; that canst not dream, Shall weigh thee to the beam: that wilt not know, We please to have it grow: Check thy contempt: Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate, Ber. Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit King. A balance more replete. I take her hand. King. Good fortune, and the favour of the king, Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast Shall more attend upon the coming space, Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her, Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. [Exeunt KING, BERTRAM, HELENA, Lords, and Attendants. Laf. Do you hear, monsieur ? a word with you. Par. Your pleasure, sir? Laf. Your lord and master did well to make his recantation. Par. Recantation? - my lord? -my master? Laf. Ay; Is it not a language, I speak? Par. A most harsh one; and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. My master? Laf. Are you companion to the count Rousillon? Par. To any count; to all counts; to what is man. Laf. To what is count's man; count's master is of another style. Par. You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. Laf. I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which title age cannot bring thee. Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do. Laf. I did think thee, for two ordinaries', to be a pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel it might pass: yet the scarfs, and the bannerets, about thee, did manifoldly dissuade me i. e. While I sat twice with thee at dinner. from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and that thou art scarce worth. Par. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee, Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial; which if —mercy on thee for a hen! So my good window of lattice, fare thee well thy casement I need not open, for I look through thee. Give me thy hand. Par. My lord, you give me most egregious in dignity. Laf. Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it." Par. I have not, my lord, deserved it. Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple. Par. Well, I shall be wiser. Laf. E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf, and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge; that I may say, in the default 2, he is a man I know. Par. My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. Laf. For doing I am past; as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave. [Exit. Par. Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy, old lord! Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any convenience, and he were double and double a lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I would have of I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. Re-enter LAFEU. Laf. Sirrah, your lord and master's married, there's news for you; you have a new mistress. Par. I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of your wrongs: He is my good lord: whom I serve above, is my master. Laf. Who? God? Par. Ay, sir. Laf. The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of thy sleeves? do other servants so? By mine honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'd beat thee; methinks, thou art a general offence, and every man should beat thee. I think, thou wast created for men to breathe3 themselves upon thee. Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. Laf. Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords, and honourable personages, than the heraldry of your birth and virtue gives you commission. You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you. [Exit. Enter BERTRAM. Par. Good, very good; it is so then. - Good, very good; let it be concealed a while. Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! Par. What is the matter, sweet-heart? 2 At a need. Exercise. Ber. Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, I will not bed her. Par. What? what, sweet-heart? Ber. O my Parolles, they have married me: I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. Par. France is a dog-hole, and yet no more merits The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! Par. Go to, thou art a witty fool, I have found thee. Clo. Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure, and the increase of laughter. Par. A good knave, i'faith, and well fed. Madam, my lord will go away to-night; Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the A very serious business calls on him. import is, I know not yet. Par. Ay, that would be known: To the wars, He wears his honour in a box unseen, Ber. It shall be so; I'll send her to my house, Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art sure? I'll send her straight away: To-morrow Par. Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd: 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 man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing: To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a very little of nothing. Par. Away, thou'rt a knave. Clo. You should have said, sir, before a knave thou art a knave: that is, before me thou art a knave: this had been truth, sir. 4 A cant term for a wife. 5 The house made gloomy by discontent. The great prerogative and rite of love, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; But puts it off by a compell'd restraint; Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with sweets, Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM. Laf. But I hope, your lordship thinks not him a soldier. Ber. Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. Ber. I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in knowledge, and accordingly valiant. Laf. I have then sinned against his experience, and transgressed against his valour; and my state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent. Here he comes; I pray you, make us friends, I will pursue the amity. Enter PAROlles. Par. These things shall be done, sir. [TO BERTRAM. Laf. Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? Par. She is. [Aside to PAROLLES. Ber. Will she away to-night? Laf. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lies three thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings 6 A specious appearance of necessity. 7 The bunting nearly resembles the sky-lark, but has little or no song, which gives estimation to the sky-lark. Q with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten. Heaven save you, captain. Ber. Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur? Par. I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's displeasure. Laf. You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer question for your residence. Ber. It may be, you have mistaken him, my lord. Laf. And shall do so ever, though I took him at his prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the soul of this man is his clothes: trust him not in matter of heavy consequence: I have kept of them tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur! I have spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. Par. An idle lord, I swear. Par. Why do you not know him? [Exit. Ber. Yes, I do know him well; and common speech Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. Enter HELENA. Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, Spoke with the king, and have procured his leave For present parting; only, he desires Some private speech with you. Ber. I shall obey his will. You must not marvel, 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 'Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so Hel. But that I am your most obedient servant. And ever shall With true observance seek to eke out that, Ber. Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe 9; Nor dare I say, 'tis mine; and yet it is; But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal What law does vouch mine own. Ber. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur?— Farewell. [Exit HELENA. Go thou toward home; where I will never come, Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the drum : Away, and for our flight. Par. Bravely, coragio! [Exeunt. · Florence. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Flourish. Enter the DUKE OF FLORENCE, attended; two French Lords, and others. Duke. So that, from point to point, now have you heard The fundamental reasons of this war; Duke. Welcome shall they be; And all the honours, that can fly from us, To-morrow to the field. [Flourish. Exeunt. - Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's Palace. Enter COUNTESS and Clown. Count. It hath happened all as I would have had it, save, that he comes not along with her. Clo. By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man. Count. By what observance, I pray you? Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing; mend the ruff', and sing; ask questions, and sing; pick his teeth, and sing: I know a man that had this trick of melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a song. Count. Let me see what he writes, and when he [Opening a letter. |