Par. To any Count; to all Counts; to what is

man.

Laf. To what is Count's man; Count's mafter is of another ftile.

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.

1

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

Laf. I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wife fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel; it might pafs; yet the scarfs and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly diffuade me from believing thee a veffel of too great a burthen. I have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and that thou'rt fcarce worth.

Par. Hadft thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee

Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, left thou haften thy tryal; which if, -Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! fo, my good window of lattice, fare thee well; thy cafement I need not open, I look thro' thee. Give me thy hand.

Par. My Lord, you give me most egregious indignity.

Laf. Ay, with all my heart, and thou art worthy

of it.

Par. I have not, my Lord, deferv'd it.

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

Par. Well, I fhall be wifer

Laf. Ev'n as foon as thou can'ft, for thou haft to pull at a fmack o'th' contrary. If ever thou beeft bound in thy fcarf and beaten, thou fhalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a defire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may fay in the default, he is a man I know.

Par. My Lord, you do me most infupportable vexation.

Laf.

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

[Exit.

Par. Well, thou haft a son shall take this difgrace off me; fcurvy, old, filthy, fcurvy Lord! - well, I muft be patient, there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any convenience, an he were double and double a Lord. I'll have 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 Mafter's married, there's news for you: you have a new mistress.

Par. I moft unfeignedly befeech your Lordship to make some reservation of your wrongs. He, my good Lord, whom I ferve above, is my master.

Laf. Who? God?

Par: Ay, Sir.

Laf: The devil it is, that's thy mafter. Why doft thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion? doft make hofe of thy fleeves? do other fervants fo? thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nofe ftands. 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 waft created for men to breathe 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 faucy with lords and honourab e perfonages, than the commiffion of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth another word, elfe I'd call you knave. I leave you.

Enter Bertram.

[Exit.

Par. Good, very good, it is fo then.-Good, very

good, let it be conceal'd a while,

Ber,

Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
Par. What is the matter, fweet heart?

Ber. Although before the folemn Priest I've fworn,

I will not bed her.

Par. What? what, fweet 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 it no more merits the. tread of a man's foot: to th' wars.

Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the import is, I know not yet.

Par. Ay, that would be known: to th' wars, my boy, to th' wars.

He wears his honour in a box, unseen,

That hugs his kickfy-wickfy here at home;
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should fuftain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars's fiery fteed: to other regions
France is a ftable, we that dwell in't jades,
Therefore to th' war..

Ber. It fhall be fo, I'll fend her to my houfe,
Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
And wherefore I am fled; write to the King
That which I durft not fpeak. His prefent gift
Shall furnish me to those Italian fields,

Where noble fellows ftrike. War is no ftrife
To the dark house, and the detested wife.

Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art fure?
Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.
I'll fend her ftraight away: to-morrow
I'll to the wars, the to her fingle forrow.

Par. Why, these balls bound, there's noife in it.
'Tis hard;

A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd:
Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go,
The King has done you wrong: but, huh! 'tis fo.
[Exeunt

Enter

Enter Helena and Clown.

Hel. My mother greets me kindly, is the well?

Clo. She is not well, but yet she has her health; fhe's very merry, but yet he is not well: but, thanks be given, fhe's very well, and wants nothing i'th' world; but yet fhe is not well.

Hel. If the be very well, what does fhe ail, that he's not very well?·

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

Hel. What two things?

Clo. One, that she's not in heav'n, whither God fend her quickly; the other, that she's in earth, from whenceGod fend her quickly!

Enter Parolles.

Par. Blefs you, my fortunate lady !

Hel. I hope, Sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortune.

Par. You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them on, have them ftill. O, my knave, how does my old lady?

Clo. So that you had her wrinkles and I her mony,. I would, fhe did, as you say.

Par. Why, I fay nothing.

Clo. Marry, you are the wifer man; for many a man's tongue shakes out his mafter's undoing to fay 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 faid, Sir, before a knave, th’art a knave; that's, before me th'art a knave: this had been truth, Sir.

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 fearch, Sir, was profitable, and much fool may you find in you, even to the world's pleafure, and the encrease of laughter.

Par.

Par. A good knave, i'faith, and well fed.
Madam, my Lord will go away to night,
A very serious bufinefs calls on him.

The great prerogative and rite of love,

Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge;
But puts it off by a compell'd reftraint:

Whose want, and whofe delay, is ftrew'd with sweets
Which they diftil now in the curbed time,

To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,

And pleasure drown the brim.

Hel. What's his will elfe?

Par. That you will take your inftant leave o'th' King, And make this hafte as your own good proceeding; Strengthen'd with what apology, you think, May make it probable need.

Hel. What more commands he?

Par. That having this obtain'd, you prefently

Attend his further pleasure.

Hel. (16) In every thing I wait upon his will.

Par. I fhall report it fo.

Hel. I pray you.

Come, Sirrah.

[Exit Parolles. [To Clown. [Exeunt's

Enter Lafeu and Bertram.

Laf. But, I hope, your Lordship thinks not him a foldier.

Ber. Yes, my Lord, and of very valiant approof.
Laf. You have it from his own deliverance.
Ber. And by other warranted teftimony.

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

(16) Hel. In every Thing I wait upon his Will.

Per. I fhall report it so.

Hel. I pray you come, Sirrah.] The Pointing of He len's laft fhort Speech ftands thus abfurdly, thro' all the Editions. My Regulation reftores the true Meaning. Upon Parolles faying, He shall report it fo; Helena is intended to reply, I pray you, do fo; and then, turning to the Clown, She more familiarly addreffes him, and bids him come along with her.

Ber