Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw amesace for my life.

Hel. The honour, Sir, that flames in your fair eyes, Before I speak, too threatningly replies: Love make your fortunes twenty times above Her that so wishes, and her humble love! 2 Lord. No better, if you please.

Hel. My wish receive,

Which great Love grant! and so I take my leave.

Laf. Do all they deny her? if they were sons of mine, I'd have them whipt, or I would send them to the Turk to make eunuchs of.

Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand should take,
I'll never do you wrong for your own fake :
Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!

Laf. These boys are boys of ice, they'll none of her : fure, they are bastards to the English, the French ne'er got 'em.

Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good,
To make yourself a fon out of my blood.
4 Lord. (12) Fair one, I think not fo.
Laf. There's one grape yet,

Par. I am fure, thy father drunk wine.
Laf. But if thou be'est not an ass, I am a
Youth of fourteen. I have known thee already.
Hel. I dare not say, I take you; but I give
Me and my fervice, ever whilft I live,

(12) 4 Lord. Fair One, I think not so.

Laf. There's one Grape yet, I am sure my Father drunk Wine: but if Thou be'est not an Ass, 1 am a Youth of fourteen : I have known thee already.] Surely, this is most incongruent Stuff. Lafen is angry with the other Noblemen, for giving Helen the Repulfe: and is he angry too, and thinks the fourth Nobleman an Afs, because he's for embracing the Match? The Whole, certainly, can't be the Speech of one Mouth. As I have divided the Speech, I think, Clearness and Humour are restor'd. And if Parolles were not a little pert and impertinent here to Lafen, why should he say, he had found him out already? Or why should he quarrel with him in the very next Scene!

Into your guided power: this is the man. [To BertramKing. Why then, young Bertram, take her, she's thy

wife.

Ber. My wife, my Liege? I shall beseech your High

ness,

In such a business give me leave to use

The help of mine own eyes.

King. Know'st thou not, Bertram,

What the hath done for me?

Ber. Yes, my good Lord,

But never hope to know why I should marry her.

King. Thou know'st, she has rais'd me from my fick

ly bed.

Ber. But follows it, my Lord, to bring me down
Muft answer for your raising? I know her well:
She had her breeding at my father's charge :
A poor physician's daughter my wife!

Rather corrupt me ever!

Disdain

King. 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which I can build up: strange is it, that our bloods, Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off In differences, so mighty. If the be All that is virtuous, (save what thou dislik'ft, A poor physician's daughter,) thou dislik'st Of virtue for the name: but do not fo. (13) From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignify'd by th' doer's deed. Where great addition swells, and virtue none, It is a a dropsied honour; good alone, Is good without a name. Vileness is so: The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. She is young, wife, fair; In these, to nature she's immediate heir;

(13) From lowest Place, whence virtuous Things proceed,

The Place is dignified by the Door's Deed.] 'Tis strange, that none of the Editors could perceive, that both the Sentiment and Grammar are defective here. The easy Correction, which I have given, was prescribed to me by the ingenious Dr. Thirlby.

And

And these breed honour: That is honour's scorn,
Which challenges itself as honour's born,
And is not like the fire. Honours best thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers: the mere word's a flave
Debaucht on every tomb, on every grave;
A lying trophy; (14) and as oft is dumb,
Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
Of honour'd bones, indeed. What should be faid?
If thou can'st like this creature as a maid,
I can create the rest: virtue and she,

Is her own dow'r; honour and wealth from me.
Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
King. Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou should'st strive

to chuse.

Hel. That you are well restor'd, my lord, I'm glad : Let the rest go.

King. (15) My honour's at the stake; which to defend, I must produce my power. Here, take her hand, Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift! That doft in vile misprision shackle up My love, and her defert; that canst not dream, We, poizing us in her defective scale, Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know, It is in us to plant thine honour, where

(14)

and as oft is dumb,

Where Dust and damn'd Oblivion is the Tomb.

Of honour'd Bones, indeed, what should be said?] This is fuch pretty Stuff, indeed, as is only worthy of its accurate Editors! The Transposition of an innocent Stop, or two, is a Task above their Diligence: especially, if common Sense is to be the Result of it. The Regulation, I have given, must strike every Reader so at first Glance, that it needs not a Word in Confirmation.

(15) My Honour's at the Stake; which to defeat

I must produce my Pow'r.] The poor King of France is again made a Man of Gotham, by our unmerciful Editors: What they make him say, is mere mock-reasoning: For he is not to make use of his Authority to defeat, but to defend, his Honour.

We

We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt:
Obey our will, which travels in thy good;
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right,
Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims,
Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
Into the staggers, and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance; my revenge and hate
Loofing upon thee in the name of justice,
Without all terms of pity. Speak, thine answer.

Ber. Pardon, my gracious Lord; for I fubmit

My fancy to your eyes. When I confider,
What great creation, and what dole of honour
Flies where you bid; I find, that she, which late
Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
The praised of the King; who, so enobled,
Is, as 'twere, born so.

King. Take her by the hand,
And tell her, she is thine: to whom I promise
A counterpoize; if not in thy estate,
A balance more repleat.

Ber. I take her hand.

King. Good fortune, and the favour of the King

Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient on the new-born brief,
And be perform'd to night; the folemn feast
Shall more attend upon the coming space,
Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'it her,

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

Manent Parolles and Lafeu.

[Exeunt.

Laf. Do you hear, Monfieur? a word with you.
Par. Your pleasure, Sir?

Laf. Your Lord and Master did well to make his re

cantation.

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 fucceeding. My master?

Laf. Are you companion to the Count Roufillon ?

Par.

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

man.

Laf. To what is Count's man; Count's master 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 think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wife fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel; it might pass; yet the scarfs and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from believing thee a vessel 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 scarce worth.

Par. Hadst 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! so, my good window of lattice, fare thee well; thy casement 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, deserv'd it.

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

Par. Well, I shall be wiser

Laf. Ev'n as soon as thou can'st, for thou haft to pull at a smack o'th' contrary. If ever thou beest 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, he is a man I know.

Par. My Lord, you do me most insupportable vexa

tion.

Laf