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The property by what it is should go,

Laf. To what is count's man: count's master is Not by ihe ütle. She is young, wise, fair;

of another style. In these to nature she's immediate heir ;

Par. You are too old, sir ; let it satisfy you, you And these breed honour ; that is honour's scorn, are too old. Which challenges itself as honour's born,'

Laf. I must tell thee, sirrah, I write 3 And is not like the sire : Honours best thrive, a which title age cannot bring thee. When rather from our acts we them derive

Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do. Than our fore-goers: the mere word's a slave, Laf. I did think thee, for two ordinaries,' to bo Debauch'd on every tomb; on every grave,

a pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb,

of thy travel; it might pass : yet the scarfs, and the Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb bannerets, about thee, did inanifoldly dissuade me Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said ? from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. If thou canst like this creature as a maid,

I have now found thee; when I lose thee ayain, I I can create the rest : virtue, and she,

care not : yet art thou good for nothing but taking Is her own dower: honour and wealih from me. up; and that thou art scarce worth.

Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't. Par. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity King. Thou wrong'si thyself, if thou shouldst upon thee,strive to choose.

Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest Hel. That you are well restor’d, my lord, I am thou hasten thy trial; which if-Lord have mercy glad;

on thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, Let the rest go.

fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, for King. My honour's at the stake ; which to dufeat," I look through thee. Give me thy hand. I must produce my power : Here, take her hand, Par. My lord, you give me most egregious indigProud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; nity. That dost in vile misprision shackle up

Laf. Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy My love, and her desert; that canst not dream, of it. We, poísing us in her defective scale,

Par. I have not, my lord, deserved it. Shall weigh thee to the beam: that wilt not know, Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it ; and I It is in us to plant thine honour, where

will not bate ihee a scruple. We please to have it grow: Check thy contempt: Par. Well, I shall be wiser. Obey our will, which travails in thy good :

Laf. E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to Believe not thy disdain, but presently

pull at a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st Do thine own fortunes that obedient right, bound in thy scarf, and beaten, thou shalt find what Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims ; it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to Or I will throw thee from my care for ever, hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowInto the staggers and the careless lapse

ledge; that I may say, in the default,' he is a man of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate, I know. Loosing upon thee in the name of justice,

Par. My lord, you do me most insupportablo Without all terms of pity: Speak; thine answer. vexation.

Ber. Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit Laf. I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and My fancy to your eyes: When I consider, my poor doing eternal: for doing I am past; as I What great creation, and what doles of honour, will by thee, in what motion age will give me Flies where you bid 'it, I find, that she, which late

[Exit. Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now Par. Well, thou hast a son shall take this disThe praised of the king; who, so ennobled, grace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord ! Is, as 'twere, born so.

Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of auKing.

Take her by the hand, thority. I'll beat him by my life, if I can meet him And tell her, she is thine : to whom I promise with any convenience, an he were double and doublo A counterpoise; if not to thy estate,

a lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I A balance more replete.

would have of—I'll beat him, an if I could but meet Ber. I take her hand.

him again. king. Good fortune, and the favour of the king,

Re-enter LAFEV. Smile upon this contract :

whose ceremony Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,

Laf. Sirrah, your lord and master's married, And be perform'd to-night :& the solemn feast

there's news for you; you have a new mistress. Shall more attend upon the coming space,

Par. I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her,

make some reservation of your wrongs : He is my Thy love's to me religious ; else, does err.

good lord: whom I serve above, is my master. (Exeunt King, BERTRAM, HELENA, Lords,

Luf. Who? God ? and Attendants.

Par. Ay, sir. Laf. Do you hear, monsieur ? a word with you. thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion ? dost make

Laf. The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost Par. Your pleasure, sir ?

Laf. Your lord and master did well to make his hose of thy sleeves ? do other servants so? Thou recantation.

wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. Par. Recantation ? My lord ? my master ?

By mine honour, if I were but two hours younger, Laf. Ay; Is it not a language, I speak ?

I'd beat thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, Par. A most harsh onc; and not to be under- and every man should beat thee. I think, thou wast stood without bloody succeeding. My master ?

created for men to breathell themselves upon thee. Laf. Are you companion to the count Rousillon?

Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my Par. To any count; to all counts; to what is man.


sense of erpeditiously : and brief in the sense of a short 1 i. e. the child of honour.

note or intimation concerning any business, and some2 The first folio omits best; the second solio sup- times without the idea of writing. plies it.

7 i. e. while I sate twice with thee at dinner. 3 The implication or clause of the sentence (as the A To take up is to contradict, to call to account ; u grammarians say) here serves for the antecedent, which well as to pick off the ground. danger to defeai.'

9 i, e, at a need. 4 The commentators here kindly inform us that the 10 There is a poor conceit here hardly worth explain. staggers is a violent disease in horses ; but the word in ing, but that some of the commentators have misunder the text has no relation, even metaphorically to it. The stood it :- Doing I am past,' says Lafeu, . as I will by reeling and unsteady course of a drunken or sick man thee, in what motion age will give me leave;. i. e. 'as is meant.

I will pass by thee as fast as I am able:' and he imme 5 i. e. portion.

diately goes out. 6 Shakspeare uses expedient and expediently in the 11 Exercise.

Laf. Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for Par. Why, I say nothing. picking a kernel out of a pomegranate ; you are a Clo. Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a vagabond, and no true traveller: you are more saucy inan's tongue shakes out his master's undoing : To with lords, and honourable personages, thau the he- say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to raldry of your birth and virtue gives you commission. have nothing, is to be a great part of your uitle ; You are not worth another word, else I'd call you which is within a very little of noihing. knave. I leave you.

[Erit. Par. Away, thou'rt a knave. Enter BERTRAM.

Clo. You should have said, sir, before a knave Par. Good, very good; it is so then.—Gcod,

thou art a knave; that is, before me thou art a

kuave : this had been truih, sir. very good ; let it be concealed a while. Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!

Par. Go to, thou art a wiiiy fool, I have found thee. Par. What is the matter, sweet heart ?

Clo. Did you find me in yourself, sir ? or were you Ber. Although before the solemn priest I have taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable,

and much fool may you find in you, even to the sworn, I will not bed her.

world's pleasure, and the increase of laughter. Par. What? what, sweet heart ?

Par. A good knave, i'faith, and well fed.Ber. O my Parolles, they have married me:

Madam, my lord, will go away to-night; I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.

A very serious business calls on him. Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits The great prerogative and rite of love, The tread of a man's foot: to the wars !

Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknow

ledge; Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the

But puts it off by a4 compellid restraint; import is, I know not yet.

Whose want, and whose delay, is strewed with Par. Ay, that would be known : To the wars, my which they distil now in the curbed time,

sweets, boy, to the wars ! He wears his honour in a box unseen,

To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,'
That hugs his kicksy-wicksy! here at home;

And pleasure drown the brim.

What's his will else ?
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should sustain the bound and high curvet

Par. That you will take your instant leave o' the Or Mars's fiery steed: To other regions !

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

And make this haste as your own good proceeding, Therefore, to the war!

Strengthen' with what apology you think
Ber. It shall be so; I'll send her to my house,

May inake it probable need.

What more commands he?
Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
And wherefore I am fled; write to the king

Par. That, having this obtain'd, you presently That which I durst not speak : His present gift

Attend his further pleasure. Shall furnish me to those lialian fields,

Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will.

Par. I shall report it so. Where noble fellows strike: War is no strife

Hel. I To the dark house, 2 and the detested wife.

pray you.-Come, sirrah. (Exeunt. Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art sure ? SCENE V. Another Room in the same. Enter Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.

I'll send her straight away: To-morrow
I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow,

Laf. But, I hope, your lordship thinks not him a

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

Ber. Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. A young man, married, is a man thal's marrid:

Laf. You have it from his own deliverance. Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go:

Ber. And by other warranted testimony. The king has aune you wrong; but, hush ! 'tis so.

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

for a bunting." (Ereuni.

Ber. I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in SCENE IV. The same. Another Room in the same knowledge, and accordingly valiant. Enter HELENA and Clown.

Laf. I have then sinned against his experience, Hel

. My mother greets me kindly; Is she well? and transgressed against his valour; and my stale Clo. She is not well; but yet she has her health ; that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in she's very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks my heart to repent. Here he comes; I pray you, be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i'the make us friends, I will pursue the amity. world; but yet she is noi well.

Enter PAROILES. Hel. If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's not very well?

Par. These things shall be done, sir.

(T. BERTRAM. Clo. Truly, she's very well, indeed, but for two things.

Laf. Pray you, sir, who's his tailor ?

Par. Sir?
Hel. What two things?
Clo. One, that she's not in heaven, whither God good workman, a very good tailor.

Laf. O, I know him well: Ay, sir; he, sir, is a send her quickly! the other, that she's in earth, from whence God send her quickly!

Ber. Is she gone to the king?


Par. She is. Par. Bless you, my fortunate lady!

Ber. Will she away to-night? Hel. I hope, sir, I have your good-will to have Par. As you'll have her. mine own good fortunes.

Ber. I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, Par. You had my prayers to lead them on : and Given order for our horses, and to-night, to keep them on, have them still.-O, my knave! When I should take possession of the bride, – How does my old lady ?

And, ere I do begin,Clo. So that you had her wrinkles, and I her Laf. A good traveller is soinething at the latter money, I would sho did as you say.

end of a dinner; but one that lies three-thirds, and 1 A cant lerm for a wife.

joys, and the expectation of them, would make them 2. The dark house is a house made gloomy by dis. more delightful when they come. The curbed lime content.

means the time of restraint, whose want means the 3 Perhaps the old saying, 'better fed than taught,' is want of which. alluded to here as in a preceding scene, where the clown 6 A specious appearance of necessity. says, 'I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught." 7 The bunting nearly resembles the sky.lark; but 4 The old copy reads • to a compellid restraint.' has liule or no song, which gives estimation to the sky. 6 The meaning appears to be, that the delay of the lark.

On the opposer.


my lord,

uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, Whilst I can shake my sword, or hear the drum :should be once heard, and thrice beaten.-God save Away, and for our flight. you, captain.


Bravely, coragio! Ber. Is there any unkindness between my lord

(Exeunt. and you, monsieur ? Par. I know not how I have deserved to run into

ACT III. my lord's displeasure.

SCENE I. Florence. A Room in the Duke's Laf. You have made shift to run into', boots and

Palace. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard ;'

attended; two French Lords, and others. and out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer

Duke. So that, from point to point, now have you question for your residence.

heard Ber. It may be, you have mistaken him, my lord. The fundamental reasons of this war; Laf. And shall do so ever, though I took him at whose great decision hath much blood let forth, his

prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe And more thirst after. this of me, There can be no kernel in this light nut;

1 Lord. the soul of this man is his clothes: trust him not in Upon

your grace's part; black and fearful

Holy seems the quarrel matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them tame, and know their natures.-- Farewell, monsieur:

Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin I have spoken better of you, than you have or will?

France de: ve at my

but we must do good against Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom evil,

(Exit. Against our borrowing prayers. Par. An idle lord, I swear.

2 Lord.

Ber. I think so.

The reasons of our state I cannot yield,"
Par. Why, do you not know him?
Ber. Yes, 'I doʻknow him well; and common That the great fignre of a council frames

But like a common and an outward man,
Gires him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.

By self-unable motion; therefore dare not

Say what I think of it; since I have found
Enter Helena.

Myself in my uncertain grounds to fail
Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from

As often as I guess'd. you,

Duke. Spoke with the king, and have procur’d his leavo

Be it his pleasure.

2 Lord. But I am sure, For present parting; only, he desires

the younger of our nature,' Some private speech with you.

That surfeit on their ease, will, day by day, Ber.

I shall obey his will. Come here for physic. You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,


Welcome shall they be ; Which holds not colour with the time, nor does

And all the honours, that can fly from us, The ministration and required office

Shall on them settle. You know your places well; On my particular : prepar'd I was not

When better fall, for your avails ihey fell : For such a business; therefore am I found

To-morrow to the field. (Flourish. Ereunt. So much unsettled : This drives me to entreat you, SCENE II. Rousillon. A Room in the CountThat presently you take your way for home ;

ess's Palace. Enter Countess and Clown. And rather muse,' than ask, why I entreat you: Count. It hath happened all as I would have had For my respects are better than they seem;

it, save, that he comes not along with her. And my appointments have in them a need,

Clo. By my troth, I take my young lord to be a Greater than shuws itself at the first view,

very melancholy man. To you that know them not. This to my mother: Count. By what observance, I pray you ?

(Giving a leller.

Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing, 'Twill be two days ere I shall see you ; su mend the ruff,' and sing; ask questions, and sing; I leave you to your wisdom.

pick his teeth, and sing; I know a man that had Hel.

Sir, I can nothing say, this trick of melancholy, sold a goodly manor for a But that I am your most obedient servant. Ber. Come, come, no more of that.

Count. Let me see what he writes, and when he Hel. And ever shall

(Opening a Letter. With true observance seek to eke out that,

Clo. I have no mind to Isbel, since I was at Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd

court; our old ling and our Isbels o' the country To equal my great fortune.

are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o'the Ber. Let that go:

court: the brains of my Cupid's knocked out; and My haste is very great : Farewell, hie home.

I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with Hel. Pray, sir, your pardon.

no stomach. Ber.

Well, what would you say? Count. What have we here? Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe ;*

Clo. E'en that you have there.

(Exit. Nor dare I say, 'tis mine ; and yet it is;

Count. [Reads.] I have sent you a daughier-inBut, like a timorous thief, most sain would steal

law : she hath recovered the king, and undone me. What law does vouch mine own.

I have welded her, not berlded her; and sworn to Ber. What would you bave?

make the not eternal. You shall hear, I am run Hel. Something; and scarce so much :-nothing,

away; know it, before the report come. If there be indeed.--I would not tell you what I would: my lord--- | tance. My duly to you.

breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long dis'faith, yes ;--

Your unfortunate son, Strangers and foes, do sunder, and not kiss.

BERTRAM. Ber. I pray you stay not, but in haste to horse. Hel. I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. To fly the favours of so good a king;

This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, Ber. Where are my other men, monsieur ?.--Fare- To pluck his indignation on thy head, well.

(Erit HELENA. Go thou toward home; where I will never come, 5 i. e. I cannot inforın you of the reasons.

6 One pot in the secret of affairs : 80 inward in a i li was a piece of foolery practised at city entertain contrary sense. ments, when an allowed fool or jester was in fashion, 7 Warburton and Upton are or opinion that we should for him to jump into a large deep custard set for the pur- read, “By self unable notion.' pose, to cause laughter among the barren spectators.' 9 As we say at present, our young fellows.

2 The first foljo reads, than you have or will to de 9 The tops of the boots in Shakspeare's time turned Berve. Perhaps the word wit was omitted, the second down, and hung loosely over the leg. The folding part folio omits to.

or top was the

ruff. It was of softer leather than the a To mueo is to wonder. 4 Possess, or own boot, and often fringed.


means to conie.


a never.

By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous

I Gent. A servant only, and a gentleman
For the contempt of empire.

Which I have some time known.
Re-enler Clown.


Parolles, was't not. Clo. O madam, yonder is heavy news within,

1 Genl. Ay, my good lady, he. between two soldiers and my young lady.

Count. A very tainted fellow and full of wicked Cmine. What is the mater? Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, With his inducement.

My son corrupts a well-derived nature some comfort ; your son will not be killed so soon

1 Gent,

Indeed, good lady, as I thought he would.

The felow has a deal of that, too much, Count. Why should he be killed ?

Which holds him much to have. Clo. So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: the danger is in standing to't ; that's the I will entreat you, when you see my son,

Count. You are welcome, gentlemen, loss of men, though it be the geiting of children. To tell him that his sword can never win Here they come, will tell you more; for my part, 1 The honour that he loses : more I'll entreat you only hear, your son was run away.

(Exit Clown. Written to bear along. Enter HELENA and two Gentlemen,

2 Gent.

We serve you, madam, i Gent. Save you, good madam.

In that and all your worthiest affairs. Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. Count. Not so, but as we change our courtesies, 2 Gent. Do not say so.

Will you draw near ? Count. Think upon patience.—'Pray you, gentle

(Ereunt Countess and Gentlemen.

Hel. Tiu I have no wife, I have nothing in France. men, I have felt so many quirks of joy, and grief,

Nothing in France, until he has no wife! That the first face of neither, on the start,

Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France, Can woman' me unto'ı :—Where is my son, I pray Then hast thou all again. Poor lord ! is't I you ?

That chase thee from thy country, and expose 2 Gent. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Those tender limbs of thine to the event Florence :

of the none-sparing war ? and is it I We met him thitherward; from thence we came, That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou And, after some despatch in hand at court,

Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark Thither we bend again.

Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, He. Look on his letter, madam ; here's my pass- That ride upon the violent speed of fire, port.

Fly with false aim; move the still-piecingo air, (Reads.) When thou canst gel the ring upon my That sings with piercing, do not touch my lord! finger? which never shall come off, and show me Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; a child begollen of thy body, that I am father to, Whoever charges on his forward breast, then call me husband : bui in such a then I write I am the caititi, that do hold him to it;

And, though I kill him not, I am the cause This is a dreadful sentence !

His death was so effected; better 'twere, Count. Brought you this letter, gentlemen ?

I met the ravin' lion when he roar'd 1 Gent.

Ay, madam;

With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere And, for the contents' sake, are sorry for our pains. That all the miseries, which nature owes, Count. I prythee, lady, have a better cheer ;

Were mine at once: No, come thou home, Rousillon, If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine,"

Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, Thou robb'st me of a moiety: He was my son;

As oft it loses all. I will be gone : But I do wash his name out of my blood,

My being here it is, that holds thee hence: And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? | Shall I stay here to do't ? no, no, although 2 Gent. Ay, madam.

The air of paradise did fan the house, Counl.

And to be a soldier ? And angels offic'd all : I will be gone; 2 Gent. Such is his noble purpose : and, believe't, That pitiful rumour may report my flight, The duke will lay upon him all the honour To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! That good convenience claims.

For, with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away; Count. Return you thither?

(Erit. | Geni. Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of SCENE III. Florence. Before the Duke's Palace.

speed. Hel. (Reads.] TU I have no wife, I have nothing

Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, BERin France.

TRAM, Lords, Officers, Soldiers, and others. "Tis bitter !

Duke. The general of our horse thou art; and we, Count. Find you that there?

Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence, Hel.

Ay, madam. Upon thy promising fortune. i Gent. 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply,


Sir, it is which

A charge too heavy for my strength; but yet
His heart was not consenting to.

We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake,
Count. Nothing in France, until he bave no wife! To the extreme edge of hazard."
There's nothing here, that is too good for him,




thou forth; But only she; and she deserves a lord,

And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm," That twenty such rude boys might tend upon,

As thy auspicious mistress And call her hourly, mistress. Who was with him? Ber.

This very day,

Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: 1 1. e. affect me suddenly and deeply, as our sex are usually affected.

6 The old copy reads, still-peering. The emen la. 2 i. e. when you can get the ring which is on my fin. tion was adopted by Steevens : still.piecing is still ger into your possession.

reuniting ; peecing is the old orthography of the word. 3 If thou keepest all thy sorrows to thyself: an ellip. I must confess that I should give the preference to still. tical expression for all the griefs that are thine.' pacing, i. e. still-moring, as more in the poet's manner.

4 This passage as it stands is very obscure ; it ap 7 That is the ravenous or ravening lion. pears to me that something is omitted after much.' War. 8 The sense is, ‘From that place, where all the ad. burton interprets it, Thai his vices stand him in stead vantages that honour usually reaps from the danger it of virtues. And Heath thought the meaning was :-- rushes upon, is only a scar in testimony of its bravery, *This fellow hath a deal too much of that which alone as, on the other hand, it often is the cause of losing all can hold or judge that he has much in him ;' i. e. fully even life itself.” and ignorance.

9 So in Shakspeare's 116th Sonnet : á In reply to the gentleman's declaration that they But bears it out, even to the edge of doom.' are her servants, the countess answers,no otherwiso 10 In X Richard III. we have: thu u she recurns tho samo odies of civilny,

*Forment and vietory sit on thy helm'


Make me but like my thoughts; and I shall

prove Wid. I have told my neighbour, how you have A lover of thy drum, hater of love. [Exeunt. been solicited by a gentleman his companion.

Mar. I know that knave; hang him! one PaSCENE IV. Rousillon. A Room in the Count-rolles : a filihy officer be is in those suggestions ess's Palace. Enter Countess and Steward.

for the young carl.Beware of them, Diana ; their Count. Alas! and would you take the letter of her ? promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these Might you not know, she would do as she has done, engines of lusi, are not the things they go under: By sending me a letter ? Read it again.

many a maid hath been seduced by them; and the siew. I am Saint Japues, pilgrim, thither gone; wreck of maidenhead, cannot for all that dissuade

misery is, example, that so terrible shows in the Ambitious love hath 80 in me affinded, Thau bare-foot plod I the cold ground upon,

succession, but ibat they are limed with the twigs With sainted vow my faults to have amended,

that threaten them. I hope, I need not to advise you Write, write, that from the bloody course of war,

further ; but, I hope, your own grace will keep you My dearest master, your dear son, may hie;

where you are, though there were no further danger Bless him at home in peace, whilst Í from far,

known, but the modesty which is so lost,

Dia. You shall not need to fear me,
His name with zealous fervour sanctify:
His taken lahours bit him me forgive;

Enter HELENA, in the dress of a Pilgrim. I, his despiteful Juno,? seni him forth

Wid. I hope so. -Look, here comes a pilgrim; From courtly friends, with camping foes to live,

I know she will lie at my house : thither they send Where death and danger dog the heels of worth:

one another: I'll question her.He is too good and fuir fur dcuth and me

God save you, pilgrim! Whither are you bound ? Whom I myself embrace, lo set him free.

Hel. To Saint Jaqurs le grand. Count. Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest Where do the palmers' lodge, I do beseech you? words!

Wid. At the Saint Francis here, beside the port. Rinaldo, you did never lack adviced so much, Hel. Is this the way? As leuing her pass so; had I spoke with her,


Ay, marry, is it.-Hark you; I could have well diverted her intents,

[1 march afar et? Which thus she hath prevented.

They come this way:- If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, Stew.

Pardon me, madam: But ill the troops come by, If I had given you this at over-night,

I will conduct you where you shall be lodg’d; She might have been o'erta'on; and yet she writes, The rather, for, I think, I know your hostess Pursuit would be in vain.

As ample as myself.
What angel shall


Is it yourself? Bless this unworthy huzband ? he cannot thrive, W'id. If you shall please so, pilgrim. Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear, Hel. I thank you, and will say upon your leisure. And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath Wid. You came, I think, from France ! Of greatest justice.-Write, wriie, Rinaldo,


I did so. To this unworthy husband of his wifo;

Wid. Here you shall see a countryman of yours, Let every word weigh heavy of her worth, That has done worthy service. That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief, Hel.

His name, I pray you Though little he do feel it, set down sharply.

Pia. The count Rousillon; Know you such a one! Despatch the most convenient messenger :

Hel. But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him, When, haply, he shall hear that she is


His face I know not. He will return; and hope I may, that she,


Whatsoe'er he is, Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, Led hither hy pure love which of them both As 'lis reported, for the king had married him Is dearest to me, I have no skill in sense

Against his liking : Think you it is so ? To make distinction :-Provide this messenger : Hel. Ay, surely, mere the truth;' I know his lady My heart is heavy, and mine age is weak;

Dia. There is a gentleman, that serves the count, Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. Reports but coarsely of her.

[Ereunt. Hel.

What's his name?

Dia. Monsieur Parolles.
SCENE V. Without the IV alls of Florence. A
Tuckel afar off

0, I believe with him, Enter an old Widow of Florence, In argument of praise, or to the worih

DIANA, VIOLENTA, Martans, and other Citi- or the great count himself, she is too mean

To have her name repealed; all her deserving Wid. Nay, come ; for if they do approach the Is a reserved honesty, and that city, we shall lose all the sight.

I have not heard examin'd.10 Dia. They say, the French count has done most Dia.

Alas, poor lady! honourable service.

'Tis a hard bondage, to become the wife Wid. It is reported that he has taken their great. Or a detesting lord. est commander; and that with his own hand he slew Wid. Ay,right; good creature wheresoc'er she is," the duke's brother. We have lost our labour ; they Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her are gone a contrary way: hark ! you may know by A shrewd turn, if she pleas'd. their trumpets.


How do you mean? Mar. Come, let's return again, and suffice our- May be, the amorous count solicits her selves with the report of it. Well, Diana, take in the unlawful purpose. heed of this French earl: jhe honour of a maid is Wid,

He does, indeed; her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty. And brokes12 with all that can in such a suit

1 Al Orleans was a church dedicated to St. Jaques, to Suavely's account of the difference between a palmer and which pilgrims formerly used to resort, lo adore a part of a pilgrim in his Dictionary. the cross pretended to be found there. See Heylin's 8 For, here and in other places, signifies cause, which France Painted to the Life, 1656, p. 270-6.

Tooke says is always its signification. 2 All'lding to the story of Hercules.

9 i. e. the mere truth, or merely the truth. Mere was 3 1. e. discretion or thought.

used in the sense of simple, absolute, decided. 4 Weigh here means to value or esteem.

10 That is, questioned, doubled. 5 Suggestions are templations.

11 The old copy reads: 6 They are not the things for which their names 'I write good creature, wheresoe'er she is.' would make them pass. To go under the name of so Malone onee deemed this an error, and proposed, 'A and so is a common expression.

right good creature,' which was admitted into the text, 7 Pilgrims ; so called from a staff or bough of palm but he subsequently thought that the old reading was they were wont to carry, especially such as had visited correct. the holy places at Jerusalern. Johnson has given 12 Deals with panders


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