Page images
PDF
EPUB

I do beseech you, whither is lie gone?

Gent. Marry, as I take it, to Rossilion,
Whither I am going.

Hel. I do beseech you, Sir,
Since you are like tô see the King before me,
Commend the Paper to his gracious Hand,
Which, I presumé, shall render you no blame,
But rather make yầu thank your Pains for it.
I will come after you with what good speed
Our means will make us means.

Gent. This I'll do for you.

Hel. And you shall find your self to be well thank'd, what e’er falls more. We must to Horse again. Go, go, provide.

[Exeunt. Enter Clown and Parolles. Par. Good Mr. Levátch, give my Lord Lafeu this Letter; I have e'er now, Sir, been better known to you, when I have held familiarity with fresher Clothes ; but I am now, Sir, muddied in Fortune’s Mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong Displeasure.

Clo. Truly, Fortune's Displeasure is but fluttish, if ic fmelt so strongly as thou speak st of: I will henceforth eat no Fish of Fortune's butt'ring. Préthee, allow the Wind.

Par. Náy, you need not to stop your Nose, Sir; I speak but a Metaphor.

Člo. Indeed, Sir, if your Metaphor stink, I will stop my Nose, or against any Man's Metaphor. Prethee get thee further.

Par. Pray you, Sir, deliver me this Paper.

Clo. Foh! prethee stand away; a Paper from Fortune's Close-stool, to give to a Nobleman. Look here he comes himself.

Enter Lafeu. Clo. Here is a pur of Fortune's, Sir, or of Fortune's Cat, but not a Muscat ; that hath fall'n into the unclean Fishpond of her Displeasure, and, as he says, muddied withal. Pray you, Sir, use the Carp as you may, for he looks like a poor, decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally Knave. I do pity his Distress in my Smiles of Comfort, and leave him to your Lordship.

Par.

24

Par. My Lord, I am a Man whom Fortune hath cruelly scratch'd.

Laf. And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to pare her Nails now. Wherein have you play'd the Knave with Fortune, that she should scratch you, who of her self is a good Lady, and would not have Knaves thșive long under her? There's a Cardecue for you : Let the Juftices make you and Fortune Friends; I am for other Business.

Par. I beseech your Honour, to hear me one single word.

Laf. You beg a single Penny more: Come, you shall ha't, save your word.

Par. My Name, iny good Lord, is Parolles,

Laf. You beg more than one word then. Cox my Pasfion, give me your Hand: How does your Drum?

Par. O my good Lord, you were the first that found me.

Laf. Was I, insooth? And I was the first that lost ther.

Par. It lyes in you, my Lord, to bring me in some Grace, for you did bring me out.

Laf. Out upon the Knave, doft thou put upon me at once, both the Office of God and Devil; one brings thee in Grace, and the other brings thee out. The King's coming, I know by his Trumpets. Sirrah, enquire further after me, I had talk of you last Night ; tho' you are a Fool and a Knave, you shall eat, go to, follow. . Par. I praise God for you.

[Exeunt, Flourish. Enter King, Countess, Lafeu, the two French

Lords, with Attendants.
King. We lost a Jewel of her and our Esteem
Was made much poorer by it; but your Son,
As mad in Folly, lack'd the Sense to know
Her Estimation home.

Count. 'Tis paft, my Liege;
And I beseech your Majesty to make it
Natural Rebellion, done i'th' blade of Youth,
When Oil and Fire, too strong for Reason's force,
O'erbears it, and burns on.

[ocr errors]

: King. My honour'd Lady,
I have forgiven and forgotten all,
Tho' my Řevenges were high bent upon him,
And watch'd the time to shoot.

Laf. This I must say,
But first I beg my pardon; the young Lord
Did to his Majesty, his Mother, and his Lady,
Offence of mighty Note; but to himself
The greatest wrong of all. He loft a Wife,
Whose Beauty did astonish the survey
Of richest Eyes; whose Words all Ears took captive;
Whose deep Perfe&ion, Hearts that scorn'd to serve,
Humbly callid Mistress.

King. Praising what is lost,
Makes the Remembrance dear. Wellcall him hither,
We are reconcild, and the first View shall kill
All Repetition : Let him not ask our Pardon,
The nature of his great Offence is dead,
And deeper than Oblivion, we do bury
Th' incensing Relicks of it. Let him approach
A Stranger, no Offender; and inform him
So 'tis our Will he should.
Gent. I shall, my Liege.

King. What says he to your Daughter?
Have you spoke?

Laf. All that he is, hath reference to your Highness.

King. Then shall we have a Match. I have Letters sent me, that set him high in Fame.

Enter Bertram.
Laf. He looks well on't.

King. I am not a Day of Season,
For thou maist see a Sun-shine, and a Hail
In me at once ; but to the brightest Beams
Distracted Clouds give way, so stand thou forth,
The Time is fair again.

Ber. My high repented Blames,
Dear Sovereign, pardon me,

King. All is whole,
Not one word more of the consumed Time,
Let's take the Instant by the forward Topi

Ber. He shall be whipt through the Army with this Rime in his Forehead.

2 Ld. This is your devoted Friend, Sir, the manifold Linguist, and the Army-potent Soldier.

Ber. I could endure any thing before, but a Cat, and he's a Cat to me.

Ixt, Iperceive, Sir, by the General's Looks, we shall be fain to hang you.

Par. My Life, Sir, in any case; not that I am afraid to die, but that my Offences being many, I would repent out the Remainder of Nature. Let me live, Sir, in a Dungeon, i'ch' Stocks, any where, so I may live.

Int. We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; therefore once more to this Captain Dumain: You have answer'd to his Reputation with the Duke, and to his Valour. What is his Honesty?

Par. He will steal, Sir, an Egg out of a Cloister: For Rapes and Ravishments he parallels Neffus. He professes not keeping of Oaths; breaking them he is stronger than Hercules. He will lie, Sir, with such yolubility, that you would think Truth were a Fool: Drunkenness is his best Virtue, for he will be Swine-drunk,' and in his Sleep he does little harm, save to his Bed-cloaths about him; but they know his Conditions, and lay him in Straw. I have but little more to say, Sir, of his Honesty, he has every thing that an honest Man should not bave ; what an honest Man should have, he has nothing.

i Ld. I begin to love him for this.

Ber. For this Description of thine Honesty ? A Pox upon him for me, he's more and more a Cat.

Int. What say you to his Expertness in War.

Par. Faith, Sir, h’as led the Drum before the English Tragedians: To belie him I will not, and more of his Soldiership I know not, except in that Country, he had the Honour to be the Officer at a Place there calld Mile-end, to inftrue for the doubling of Files. I would do the Man what Honour I can, but of this I am not certain.

I Ld. He hath out-villan'd Villany so far, thatthe Rarity redeems him.

Ber. A Pox on him, he's a Cat still.

Int. His Qualities being at this poor Price, I need not to k you, if Gold will corrupt him to revolt.

Par.

Par. Sir, for a Cardecue he will sell the Fee-simple of his Salvation, the Inheritance of it, and cut th' Intail from all Remainders, and perpetual Succession for it perpetually.

Int. What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain?
2 Ld. Why do's he ask him of me?
Int. What's he? .

Par. E'en a Crow o’th' fame Neft; not altogether so great as the first in Goodness, but greater a great deal in Evil. He excells his Brother for a Coward, yet his Brother is reputed one of the best that is. In a Retreat he out-runs any Lackey; marry in coming on he has the Cramp.

Int. If your Life be saved, will you undertake to betray the Florentine?

Par. Ay, and the Captain of his Horse, Count Rosfillion. ' Int. I'll whisper with the General, and know his Pleasure.

Par. I'll no more drumming, a Plague of all Drums, only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the Supposition of that lascivious young Boy the Count, have I run into Danger; yet who would have suspected an Ambush where I was taken?

Int. There is no Remedy, Sir, but you must die; the General says, you that have so traiterously discovered the Secrets of your Army, and made such peftiferous Reports of Men very nobly held, can serve the World for no honest Use; therefore you must die. Come, Heads-man, off with his Head.

Par. O Lord, Sir, let me live, or let me see my Death.

Int. That shall you, and take your leave of all your Friends:

[Unblinding him. So look about you; know you any here?

Count. Good Morrow, noble Captain. 2 Ld. God bless you, Captain Parolles. I Ld. God save you, noble Captain.

2 Ld. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord La« feu? I am for Franco. i i Ld. Good Captain, will you give me a copy of that same Sonnet you writ to Diana in Behalf of the Count Rosa fillion, and I were not a very Coward, I'd compel it of you; bur fare you well.

[Exeunt. Vol. II.

Int.

« PreviousContinue »