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her: sure, they are bastards to the English, the French ne'er
got Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good, To make yourself a son out of my
blood. 4 Lord. (18) Fair one, I think not so. Laf. There's one grape yet. Per. I am sure, 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 service, ever whilft I live, Into your guiding power; this is the man. (To Bertram.
King. Why then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife.
Ber. My wife, my Liege? Ishall beseech your Highness, In such a business give me leave to use The help of mine own eyes.
King. Know'st thou not, Bertram,
Ber. Yes, my good Lord,
, she has rais’d me from my fickly 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!-Disdain Rather corrupt me ever!
King. 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which I can build up: ftrange is it, that our bloods,
(18) 4 Lord. Fair one, I think not co.
Laf. There's one grape yet, I am sure my father drunk wine; but if thou be'est nat an ass, I am a youth of fourteen: I have known thee already.] Surely, this is most incongruent ftuff. Lafeu is angry with the other soblemen, for giving Helena the repulse': and is he angry too, and thinks the fourth noblèman an ass, 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 resor'd. And if Parelles were not a little pert and impertinent here to Lafeu, why should he say, he had found him out already? Os, why should he quarrel with him in the
very next scene?
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
(19) From lowest place, whence virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by tb' doers deed.] 'Tis ftrange, 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. (20)
-Honours beft thrive,
Than our foregoers.] How nearly does this sentiment of our author's resemble the following paneige of Juvenal!
Ergo ut miremur te, non tua, primum aliquid da
Sat. VIII. ver. 68, (21)
and as oft is dumb, Where duff and damn'd oblivion is the tomb,
Of bonour'd bones, indeed, what foould be faid?] This is such pretty ftuff, indeed, as is only worthy of its accurate editors! the transposition of an innocent fop, or two, is a talk above their diligence; especially, if common sense is to be the result of it. The regulation, I have given, muft ftrike every reader so at first nce, that it needs not a word in confirmation,
Of honour'd bone's, indeed. What should be faid?
Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
to chuse. Hel. That you are well restor'd, my Lord, I'm glad: Let the rest go.
King. (22) My honour's at the stake; which to defend,
Ber. Pardon, 'my gracious Lord; for I submit
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 mook.reasoning. The passage must either be restor’d, as I have conjecturally corrected; or else the King mult be suppos'd to break off abruptiy from what he was going to say, and determine that he will interpose his authority. As thus ; My bonour's at the flake; wbich to defeat,I must produce my pow'r.
The praised of the King; who, so enobled;" is
King. Take her by the hand,
Ber. I take her hand.
King. Good fortune, and the favour of the King
Manent Parolles and Lafeu.
Laf. Your Lord and master did well to make his. recantation.
Par. Recantation ?-my Lord? my master?'
Par. A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. My master ?
Laf. Are you companion to the Count Roufillon?
Laf. To what is Count's man; Count's master is of another stile.
Par. You are too old, Sir; let it satisfy you, you. are too old..
Laf. I must tell thee, firrah, 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 wise 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 burden. 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. Hadft thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee
Laf. (23) Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, left thou haften thy tryal; which if,-Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! lo, my good window of lattice, fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, I look through 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'tt, for thou hast 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 vexation.
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. (23) Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, left thou haften thy tryal; which is, Lord bave mercy on thee for å ben;] Mr Rowe and Mr. Pope, either by inadvertence, or some other fatality, have blunder'd this passage into stark nonsense. I have refor’d the reading of the old folio, and by subjoining the mark to shew a break is necessary, have retriev'd the poet's genuine sense:
wbich if-Lord have mercy on thee fer a hen! The sequel of the sentence is imply'd, not exprefs’d: This figure the rhetoricians have call'd 'AMOOI WOS. A remarkable instance we have of it in the first book of Virgil's Æneis.
Quos Ego-fed motes prasiat componere Flučius.
Mala mens, malus animus; quem quidem Ego fi sensero,
Andr. AE I. Sc. I. But I shall have occasion to remark again upon it, when I come to King Lear,