« PreviousContinue »
loss that may happen, it concerns you something HEL. You are my mother, madam; would to know it.
you were Count. You have discharged this honestly; (So that my lord, your son, were not my brother,) keep it to yourself: many likelihoods informed Indeed my mother !—or were you both our me of this before, which hung so tottering in the
mothers, balance, that I could neither believe nor misdoubt. I care no more for, than I do for heaven, 'Pray you, leave me: stall this in your bosom, and So I were not his sister : can't no other, I thank you for your honest care : I will speak But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? with you further anon.
[Exit Steward. Count. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughterCOUNT. Even so it was with me, when I was
God shield, you mean it not! daughter, and If we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn
mother, Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong :
So strive upon your pulse : what, pale again ? Our blood to us, this to our blood is born ; My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see It is the show and seal of nature's truth,
The mystery of your loneliness, * and find love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross, By our remembrances of days foregone,
You love my son ; invention is asham’d, Such were our faults ;-or them we thought then a Against the proclamation of thy passion, none.
To say, thou dost not: therefore tell me true ;
But tell me then, 't is so :—for, look, thy cheeks Enter HELENA.
Confess it, th’ one to th’ other:ť and thine eyes
See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours, Her eye is sick on’t; I observe her now. That in their kind they speak it: only sin HEL. What is your pleasure, madam ?
And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue, COUNT.
You know, Helen, That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so ? I am a mother to you.
If it be so, you have wound a goodly clue ; HEL. Mine honourable mistress.
If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, COUNT.
Nay, a mother; As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
Good madam, pardon me ! That you start at it? I say, I am your mother ; Count. Do
love And put you in the catalogue of those
Your pardon, noble mistress ! That were enwombed mine.
"Tis often seen,
Count. Love you my son ? Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds HEL.
Do not you love him, madam ? A native slip to us from foreign seeds :
Count. Go not about; my love hath in 't a You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan,
bond, Yet I express to you a mother's care:
Whereof the world takes note : come, come, God's mercy, maiden ! does it curd thy blood,
disclose To say, I am thy mother? What's the matter, The state of your affection, for your passions That this distemper'd messenger of wet,
Have to the full appeach'd. The many-colour's Iris, rounds thine eye?
Then, I confess, Why?--that you are my daughter ?
Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, HEL.
That I am not. That before you, and next unto high heaven, Count. I say, I am your mother.
I love your son :HEL.
Pardon, madam ; My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love : The count Rousillon cannot be my brother : Be not offended, for it hurts not him, I am from humble, he from honour'd name; That he is lov'd of me; I follow him not No note upon my parents, his, all noble :
By any token of presumptuous suit, My master, my dear lord he is : and I
Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him ; His servant live, and will his vassal die :
Yet never know how that desert should be. He must not be my brother.
I know I love in vain, strive against hope; COUNT.
mother? Yet, in this captious" and intenible : sieve,
my son ?
a Or them we thought then none.) The old copy reads,
“— Or then we thought them none.” Por the transposition of them and then, I am responsible.
I care no more for,-) “There is a designed ambiguity: 'I care Do more for,' is I care as much for.'"-FARMER. it would somewhat lessen the perplexity of this difficult passage, if we suppose the present line to be spoken aside; but, in truth, the text
(*) First folio, louelinesse. (t) First folio, 't on tooth to th' other. (1) First folio, intemible. throughout the speech is palpably corrupt.
c Gross,-) That is, palpable.
d This captious and intenible sieve,-) We incline to believe, with Farmer, that caplious here is only a contraction of capacious.
I still pour in the waters of my love,
You know, my father left me some prescriptions And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, Of rare and prov'd effects,(6) such as his reading, Religious in mine error, I adore
And manifest experience, had collected The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
For general sovereignty ; and that he will’d me But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, | In heedfullest reservation to bestow them, Let not your hate encounter with my love,
As notes, whose faculties inclusive were, For loving where you do: but, if yourself, More than they were in note : amongst the rest, Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, There is a remedy, approv'd, set down, Did ever, in so true a flame of liking,
To cure the desperate languishings, whereof Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your
Dian The king is render'd lost. Was both herself and Love ; ( then, give pity COUNT.
This was your motive To her, whose state is such that cannot choose, For Paris, was it? speak. But lend and give where she is sure to lose ;
HEL. My lord your son made me to think of That seeks not to find that her search implies, But, riddle-like, lives sweetly where she dies. Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king, Count. Had you not lately an intent, speak Had, from the conversation of my thoughts, truly,
Haply been absent then. To go to Paris ?
But think you, Helen, HEL. Madam, I had.
If you should tender your supposed aid, COUNT.
Wherefore ? tell true. He would receive it? He and his physicians HEL. I will tell truth; by grace itself, I swear. Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him,
They, that they cannot help. How shall they The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure, credit
By such a day, and * hour. A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
Dost thou believe't? Embowelld of their doctrine, have left off
HEL. Ay, madam, knowingly. The danger to itself?
Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my HEL. There's something hints,"
leave, and love, More than my father's skill, which was the greatest Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings Of his profession, that his good receipt
To those of mine in court; I'll stay at home, Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified
And pray God's blessing into thy attempt : By the luckiest stars in heaven : and, would
your Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this, honour
What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss. But give me leave to try success," I'd venture
: There's something hints,] The old copy has "in'l.” Hanmner made the obvious correction.
b To try success,-) Success here means the consequence, the issue. So in “Much Ado About Nothing," Act. IV. Sc. 1:
And doubt not but success
(*) First folio, an.
c Into-] Into or unto were often used indiscriminately by the old writers.
King. Farewell, young lords, these warlike
principles Do not throw from you :—and you, my lords,
farewell :Share the advice betwixt you ; if both gain all,
The gift doth stretch itself as 't is receiv’d,
'Tis our hope, sir,
King. No, no, it cannot be, and yet my heart Will not confess he owes the malady That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords ; Whether I live or die, be you the
a Farewell, young lords,-) Thus the old copy. Many of the modern editors read, “Farewell, young lord," supposing there are only two French lords about to serve in Italy; but this is an error. There are " direts” young noblemen taking leave, and to
these the King first addresses himself; he then turns to the two lords who are the spokesmen in the scene, and bids them share in the advice just given to their young companions.
Of worthy Frenchmen : let higher Italy (1) this
very sword entrenched it : say to him, I live ; (Those ’bated, that inherit but the fall
and observe his reports for me. Of the last monarchy) see that you come
2 LORD. We shall, noble captain. Not to woo honour, but to wed it ; when
Par. Mars dote on you for his novices ! [Exeunt The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, Lords.] What will you* do? That fame may cry you
loud : I
BER. Stay: the king2 Lord. Ilealth, at your bidding, serve your Par. Use a more spacious ceremony to the majesty!
noble lords ; you have restrained yourself within King. Those girls of Italy, take heed of them; the list of too cold an adieu : be more expressive They say, our French lack language to deny, to them; for they wear themselves in the cap If they demand ; beware of being captives, of the time; there, do muster true gait, eat, speak, Before you serve.
and move under the influence of the most received Вотн. Our hearts receive your warnings. star ; and though the devil lead the measure, such King. Farewell.--Come hither to me.
are to be followed : after them, and take a more [The King retires to a couch. dilated farewell. 1 LORD. O my sweet lord, that you
BER. And I will do so. behind us !
Par. Worthy fellows; and like to prove most PAR. 'T is not his fault, the spark.
sinewy sword-men. 2 LORD. 0, 't is brave wars!
[Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES. Par. Most admirable ; I have seen those wars. BER. I am commanded here, and kept a coil
Enter LAFEU. with, Too young, and the next year, and 't is too early. LAF. Pardon, my lord, [Kneeling.] for me and Par. An thy mind stand to’t, boy, steal away
for my tidings. bravely.
King. I'll sue thee to stand up. BER. I shall stay here the fore-horse to a smock, a LAF. Then here's a man stands, that has Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,
brought his pardon.
[mercy ; Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn, I would you had kneeld, my lord, to ask me But one to dance with :(2) By heaven, I'll steal And that, at my bidding, you could so stand up. away.
KING. I would I had ; so I had broke thy pate, 1 LORD. There's honour in the theft.
And ask'd thee mercy for’t.
['t is thus ; PAR.
Commit it, count. LAF. Good faith, across : but, my good lord, 2 LORD. I am your accessary; and so farewell. Will you be cur'd of your infirmity ? BER. I
grow to you, and our parting is a tor- KING. No. tured body."
LAF. O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox ? 1 LORD. Farewell, captain.
Yes, but you will
, my noble grapes,' an if 2 Lord. Sweet monsieur Parolles !
My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a Par. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are
medicine, kin. Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good That's able to breathe life into a stone, metals. You shall find in the regiment of the Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary," Spinii, one captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an
With sprightly fire and motion; whose simple touch emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it was Is powerful to araise king Pepin, nay,
(*) First folio, his cicatrice with. * The fore-horse to a smock,–] The fore-horse of a team was gaily ornamented with tufts, and ribbons, and bells. Bertram complains that, bedizened like one of these animals, he will have to squire la lies at the court, instead of achieving honour in the vars. b Our parting is a tortured body.) A8 is understood :
Our parting is as a tortured body." e I'll sue thee to stand up.) The old copy reads, "I'll see thee," &c. When any one kneels to a sovereign, it is to ask permission to stand in his presence. Thus, in « Richard II.” Act V. Sc. 3, Bolingbroke says-
“Good aunt, stand up;" to which she answers,
"I do not sue to stand." Upon Lafeu prostrating himself, the afflicted king, mindful of his own debility, remarks,-"* Instead of your begging permission of me to rise, i'll sue thee for the same grace;" - Lafeu immediately responds,VOL. II.
(*) Old text, ye. “I would you had kneeld, my lord,' &c. d Good faith, across :) Across, in reference to the sports of chivalry, in which, to break a spear across the body of an opponent was disgraceful, came to be used in derision when any pass of wit miscarried. Here, however, we believe Lafeu alludes rather to some game, where certain successes entitle the achiever to mark a cross.
e Yes, but you will, my noble grapes,-) My in 'this passage has been changed in some modern editions to ay, but needlessly; we have only to read “my” emphatically, and the sense is obvious:
“0, will you eat no grapes ? &c.
Yes, but you will, my noble grapes." f And make you dance canary.--) To what has already been said on the nature of this sprightly dance (see note (*), vol. I. p. 64), may be added, that the dancers accompanied their movements with castagnets: see Florio, who defines Chioppare" to clacke or snap, or phip, or click, or lirp with ones fingers, as they that dance the Canaries, or as some barbers.”