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Laf. I would, it were hell-pains for thy fake, and my poor doing eternal: 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, filthy, scurvy 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, 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 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, 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 hofe of thy fleeves? do other servants so? thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. 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 breathe themselves upon thee.

Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my Lord. Laf. Go to, Sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking å kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller: you are more sawcy with lords and honourable personages, than the commission of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.

Enter Bertram.

[Exit.

Par. Good, very good, it is so 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, sweet heart?

Ber. Although before the folemn Priest I've 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 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, unfeen,
That hugs his kicksy-wicksy here at home;
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars's fiery steed: to other regions
France is a stable, we that dwell in't jades,
Therefore to th' war.

Ber. It shall be so, I'll 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 speak. His present gift
Shall furnish me to those Italian fields,
Where noble fellows strike. War is no strife
To the dark house, and the detested wife.

Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art sure ?
Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.

I'll send her straight away: to-morrow
I'll to the wars, the to her fingle forrow.

Par. Why, these balls bound, there's noise 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, hush! 'tis so.

[Exeunt

Enter

Ber. I do assure you, my Lord, he is very great in knowledge, and accordingly valiant.

Laf. I have then finned against his experience, and transgress'd against his valour; and my state that way is dangerous, fince 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.

Laf. I pray you, Sir, who's his taylor ?

Par. Sir?

Laf. O, I know him well; I, Sir, he, Sir's, a good

workman, a very good taylor.

Ber. Is she gone to the King?

Par. She is.

Ber. Will she away to night?
Par. As you'll have her.

Ber. I have writ my letters,

[Afide to Parolles.

casketed my treafure,

given order for our horfes; and to night, when I

should take possession of the bride

begin

- and ere I do

Laf. A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lyes three thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard, and thrice beaten God save you, captain.

Ber. Is there any unkindness between my Lord and you, Monfieur ?

Par. I know not, how I have deserved to run into my Lord's displeasure.

Laf. (17) You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard ;

(17) You have made shift to run into't, Boots and Spurs and all, like him that leapt into the Custard.) This odd Allusion is not introduc'd without a View to Satire. It was a Foolery practis'd at City-Entertainments, whilst the Jefter or Zany was in Vogue, for him to jump into a large deep Custard: fet for the Purpose, to set on a Quantity of barren Spectators to laugh; as our Poet says in his Hamlet.

and out of it you'll run again, rather than fuffer question for your refidence.

Ber. It may be, you have mistaken him, my Lord.

Laf. And shall do so ever, tho' I took him at's prayers. Fare you well, my Lord, and believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut: the foul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in matter of heavy consequence: I have kept of them tame, and know their natures. Farewel, Monfieur, I have spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand, but we must do good against evil. [Exit.

Par. An idle lord, I swear. -
Ber. I think so.

Par. Why, do you not know him?

Ber. Yes, I 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 procur'd his leave
For present parting; only, he defires
Some private speech with ith 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
For such a business; therefore am I found
So much unfettled: this drives me to intreat you,
That presently you take your way for home,
And rather muse, than ask, why I intreat
For my respects are better than they seem,
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater than shews itself at the first view,
To you that know them not. This to my mother.

you;

[Giving a letter.

'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, fo I leave you to your wisdom.

Hel. Sir, I can nothing say,

But that I am your most obedient servant..

Ber.

SCENE changes to the Court of France.

Flourish Cornets. Enter the King of France with letters, and divers Attendants.

King. TH

HE Florentines and Senoys are by th' ears;
Have fought with equal fortune, and con-

A braving war.

tinue

I Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir.

King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it,

A certainty vouch'd from our cousin Auftria;
With caution, that the Florentine will move us
For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend
Prejudicates the business, and would feem
To have us make denial.

I Lord. His love and wisdom,
Approv'd so to your Majesty, may plead
For ample credence.

King. He hath arm'd our answer';
And Florence is deny'd, before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see
The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.

2 Lord. It may well serve
A nursery to our gentry, who are fick
For breathing and exploit.

King. What's he comes here ?

1

Enter Bertram, Lafeu and Parolles.

1 Lord. It is the count Roufillon, my good lord, young Bertram.

King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face.
Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,
Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts
May'st thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.

Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majesty's.
King. I would, I had that corporal foundness now,
As when thy father and myself in friendship

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