Int. What is his reputation with the Duke?

Par. The Duke knowes him for no other, but a poore

Officer of mine, and writ to mee this other day, to turne

him out a'th band. I thinke I haue his Letter in my pocket

Int. Marry we'll search

Par. In good sadnesse I do not know, either it is there,

or it is vpon a file with the Dukes other Letters, in my

Tent

Int. Heere 'tis, heere's a paper, shall I reade it to you?

Par. I do not know if it be it or no

Ber. Our Interpreter do's it well

Cap.G. Excellently

Int. Dian, the Counts a foole, and full of gold

Par. That is not the Dukes letter sir: that is an aduertisement

to a proper maide in Florence, one Diana, to

take heede of the allurement of one Count Rossillion, a

foolish idle boy: but for all that very ruttish. I pray you

sir put it vp againe

Int. Nay, Ile reade it first by your fauour

Par. My meaning in't I protest was very honest in the

behalfe of the maid: for I knew the young Count to be a

dangerous and lasciuious boy, who is a whale to Virginity,

and deuours vp all the fry it finds

Ber. Damnable both-sides rogue

Int.

Let.

When he sweares oathes, bid him drop gold, and

take it:

After he scores, he neuer payes the score:

Halfe won is match well made, match and well make it,

He nere payes after-debts, take it before,

And say a souldier (Dian) told thee this:

Men are to mell with, boyes are not to kis.

For count of this, the Counts a Foole I know it,

Who payes before, but not when he does owe it.

Thine as he vow'd to thee in thine eare,

Parolles

Ber. He shall be whipt through the Armie with this

rime in's forehead

Cap.E. This is your deuoted friend sir, the manifold

Linguist, and the army-potent souldier

Ber. I could endure any thing before but a Cat, and

now he's a Cat to me

Int. I perceiue sir by your Generals lookes, wee shall

be faine to hang you

Par. My life sir in any case: Not that I am afraide to

dye, but that my offences beeing many, I would repent

out the remainder of Nature. Let me liue sir in a dungeon,

i'th stockes, or any where, so I may liue

Int. Wee'le see what may bee done, so you confesse

freely: therefore once more to this Captaine Dumaine:

you haue answer'd to his reputation with the Duke, and

to his valour. What is his honestie?

Par. He will steale sir an Egge out of a Cloister: for

rapes and rauishments he paralels Nessus. Hee professes

not keeping of oaths, in breaking em he is stronger then

Hercules. He will lye sir, with such volubilitie, that you

would thinke truth were a foole: drunkennesse is his best

vertue, for he will be swine-drunke, and in his sleepe he

does little harme, saue to his bed-cloathes about him:

but they know his conditions, and lay him in straw. I

haue but little more to say sir of his honesty, he ha's euerie

thing that an honest man should not haue; what an

honest man should haue, he has nothing

Cap.G. I begin to loue him for this

Ber. For this description of thine honestie? A pox

vpon him for me, he's more and more a Cat

Int. What say you to his expertnesse in warre?

Par. Faith sir, ha's led the drumme before the English

Tragedians: to belye him I will not, and more of his

souldiership I know not, except in that Country, he had

the honour to be the Officer at a place there called Mile-end,

to instruct for the doubling of files. I would doe the

man what honour I can, but of this I am not certaine

Cap.G. He hath out-villain'd villanie so farre, that the

raritie redeemes him

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

Int. His qualities being at this poore price, I neede

not to aske you, if Gold will corrupt him to reuolt

Par. Sir, for a Cardceue he will sell the fee-simple of

his saluation, the inheritance of it, and cut th' intaile from

all remainders, and a perpetuall succession for it perpetually

Int. What's his Brother, the other Captain Dumain?

Cap.E. Why do's he aske him of me?

Int. What's he?

Par. E'ne a Crow a'th same nest: not altogether so

great as the first in goodnesse, but greater a great deale in

euill. He excels his Brother for a coward, yet his Brother

is reputed one of the best that is. In a retreate hee outrunnes

any Lackey; marrie in comming on, hee ha's the

Crampe

Int. If your life be saued, will you vndertake to betray

the Florentine

Par. I, and the Captaine of his horse, Count Rossillion

Int. Ile whisper with the Generall, and knowe his

pleasure

Par. Ile no more drumming, a plague of all drummes,

onely to seeme to deserue well, and to beguile the supposition

of that lasciuious yong boy the Count, haue I run

into this danger: yet who would haue suspected an ambush

where I was taken?

Int. There is no remedy sir, but you must dye: the

Generall sayes, you that haue so traitorously discouerd

the secrets of your army, and made such pestifferous reports

of men very nobly held, can serue the world for

no honest vse: therefore you must dye. Come headesman,

off with his head

Par. O Lord sir let me liue, or let me see my death

Int. That shall you, and take your leaue of all your

friends:

So, looke about you, know you any heere?

Count. Good morrow noble Captaine

Lo.E. God blesse you Captaine Parolles

Cap.G. God saue you noble Captaine

Lo.E. Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord

Lafew? I am for France

Cap.G. Good Captaine will you giue me a Copy of

the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalfe of the Count

Rossillion, and I were not a verie Coward, I'de compell

it of you, but far you well.

Exeunt.

Int. You are vndone Captaine all but your scarfe,

that has a knot on't yet

Par. Who cannot be crush'd with a plot?

Inter. If you could finde out a Countrie where but

women were that had receiued so much shame, you

might begin an impudent Nation. Fare yee well sir, I

am for France too, we shall speake of you there.

Exit

Par. Yet am I thankfull: if my heart were great

'Twould burst at this: Captaine Ile be no more,

But I will eate, and drinke, and sleepe as soft

As Captaine shall. Simply the thing I am

Shall make me liue: who knowes himselfe a braggart

Let him feare this; for it will come to passe,

That euery braggart shall be found an Asse.

Rust sword, coole blushes, and Parrolles liue

Safest in shame: being fool'd, by fool'rie thriue;

There's place and meanes for euery man aliue.

Ile after them.

Enter.

Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana.

Hel. That you may well perceiue I haue not

wrong'd you,

One of the greatest in the Christian world

Shall be my suretie: for whose throne 'tis needfull

Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneele.

Time was, I did him a desired office

Deere almost as his life, which gratitude

Through flintie Tartars bosome would peepe forth,

And answer thankes. I duly am inform'd,

His grace is at Marcellae, to which place

We haue conuenient conuoy: you must know

I am supposed dead, the Army breaking,

My husband hies him home, where heauen ayding,

And by the leaue of my good Lord the King,

Wee'l be before our welcome

Wid. Gentle Madam,

You neuer had a seruant to whose trust

Your busines was more welcome

Hel. Nor your Mistris

Euer a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour

To recompence your loue: Doubt not but heauen

Hath brought me vp to be your daughters dower,

As it hath fated her to be my motiue

And helper to a husband. But O strange men,

That can such sweet vse make of what they hate,

When sawcie trusting of the cosin'd thoughts

Defiles the pitchy night, so lust doth play

With what it loathes, for that which is away,

But more of this heereafter: you Diana,

Vnder my poore instructions yet must suffer

Something in my behalfe

Dia. Let death and honestie

Go with your impositions, I am yours

Vpon your will to suffer

Hel. Yet I pray you:

But with the word the time will bring on summer,

When Briars shall haue leaues as well as thornes,

And be as sweet as sharpe: we must away,

Our Wagon is prepar'd, and time reuiues vs,

All's well that ends well, still the fines the Crowne;

What ere the course, the end is the renowne.

Exeunt.

Enter Clowne, old Lady, and Lafew.

Laf. No, no, no, your sonne was misled with a snipt

taffata fellow there, whose villanous saffron wold haue

made all the vnbak'd and dowy youth of a nation in his

colour: your daughter-in-law had beene aliue at this

houre, and your sonne heere at home, more aduanc'd

by the King, then by that red-tail'd humble Bee I speak

of

La. I would I had not knowne him, it was the death

of the most vertuous gentlewoman, that euer Nature

had praise for creating. If she had pertaken of my flesh

and cost mee the deerest groanes of a mother, I could

not haue owed her a more rooted loue

Laf. Twas a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. Wee

may picke a thousand sallets ere wee light on such another

hearbe

Clo. Indeed sir she was the sweete Margerom of the

sallet, or rather the hearbe of grace

Laf. They are not hearbes you knaue, they are nose-hearbes

Clowne. I am no great Nabuchadnezar sir, I haue not

much skill in grace

Laf. Whether doest thou professe thy selfe, a knaue

or a foole?

Clo. A foole sir at a womans seruice, and a knaue at a

mans

Laf. Your distinction

Clo. I would cousen the man of his wife, and do his

seruice

Laf. So you were a knaue at his seruice indeed

Clo. And I would giue his wife my bauble sir to doe

her seruice

Laf. I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knaue

and foole

Clo. At your seruice

Laf. No, no, no

Clo. Why sir, if I cannot serue you, I can serue as

great a prince as you are

Laf. Whose that, a Frenchman?

Clo. Faith sir a has an English maine, but his fisnomie

is more hotter in France then there

Laf. What prince is that?

Clo. The blacke prince sir, alias the prince of darkenesse,

alias the diuell

Laf. Hold thee there's my purse, I giue thee not this

to suggest thee from thy master thou talk'st off, serue

him still

Clo. I am a woodland fellow sir, that alwaies loued

a great fire, and the master I speak of euer keeps a good

fire, but sure he is the Prince of the world, let his Nobilitie

remaine in's Court. I am for the house with the

narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pompe to

enter: some that humble themselues may, but the manie

will be too chill and tender, and theyle bee for the

flowrie way that leads to the broad gate, and the great

fire

Laf. Go thy waies, I begin to bee a wearie of thee,

and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out

with thee. Go thy wayes, let my horses be wel look'd

too, without any trickes

Clo. If I put any trickes vpon em sir, they shall bee

Iades trickes, which are their owne right by the law of

Nature.

Exit

Laf. A shrewd knaue and an vnhappie

Lady. So a is. My Lord that's gone made himselfe

much sport out of him, by his authoritie hee remaines

heere, which he thinkes is a pattent for his sawcinesse,

and indeede he has no pace, but runnes where he will

Laf. I like him well, 'tis not amisse: and I was about

to tell you, since I heard of the good Ladies death, and

that my Lord your sonne was vpon his returne home. I

moued the King my master to speake in the behalfe of

my daughter, which in the minoritie of them both, his

Maiestie out of a selfe gracious remembrance did first

propose, his Highnesse hath promis'd me to doe it, and

to stoppe vp the displeasure he hath conceiued against

your sonne, there is no fitter matter. How do's your

Ladyship like it?

La. With verie much content my Lord, and I wish

it happily effected

Laf. His Highnesse comes post from Marcellus, of as

able bodie as when he number'd thirty, a will be heere

to morrow, or I am deceiu'd by him that in such intelligence

hath seldome fail'd

La. It reioyces me, that I hope I shall see him ere I

die. I haue letters that my sonne will be heere to night:

I shall beseech your Lordship to remaine with mee, till

they meete together

Laf. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I

might safely be admitted

Lad. You neede but pleade your honourable priuiledge

Laf. Ladie, of that I haue made a bold charter, but

I thanke my God, it holds yet.

Enter Clowne.

Clo. O Madam, yonders my Lord your sonne with

a patch of veluet on's face, whether there bee a scar vnder't

or no, the Veluet knowes, but 'tis a goodly patch

of Veluet, his left cheeke is a cheeke of two pile and a

halfe, but his right cheeke is worne bare

Laf. A scarre nobly got,

Or a noble scarre, is a good liu'rie of honor,

So belike is that

Clo. But it is your carbinado'd face

Laf. Let vs go see

your sonne I pray you, I long to talke

With the yong noble souldier

Clowne. 'Faith there's a dozen of em, with delicate

fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the

head, and nod at euerie man.

Exeunt.

Actus Quintus.

Enter Hellen, Widdow, and Diana, with two Attendants.

Hel. But this exceeding posting day and night,

Must wear your spirits low, we cannot helpe it:

But since you haue made the daies and nights as one,

To weare your gentle limbes in my affayres,

Be bold you do so grow in my requitall,

As nothing can vnroote you. In happie time,

Enter a gentle Astringer.

This man may helpe me to his Maiesties eare,

If he would spend his power. God saue you sir

Gent. And you

Hel. Sir, I haue seene you in the Court of France

Gent. I haue beene sometimes there

Hel. I do presume sir, that you are not falne

From the report that goes vpon your goodnesse,

And therefore goaded with most sharpe occasions,

Which lay nice manners by, I put you to

The vse of your owne vertues, for the which

I shall continue thankefull

Gent. What's your will?

Hel. That it will please you

To giue this poore petition to the King,

And ayde me with that store of power you haue

To come into his presence

Gen. The Kings not heere

Hel. Not heere sir?

Gen. Not indeed,

He hence remou'd last night, and with more hast

Then is his vse

Wid. Lord how we loose our paines

Hel. All's well that ends well yet,

Though time seeme so aduerse, and meanes vnfit:

I do beseech you, whither is he gone?

Gent. Marrie as I take it to Rossillion,

Whither I am going

Hel. I do beseech you sir,

Since you are like to see the King before me,

Commend the paper to his gracious hand,

Which I presume shall render you no blame,

But rather make you thanke your paines for it,

I will come after you with what good speede

Our meanes will make vs meanes

Gent. This Ile do for you

Hel. And you shall finde your selfe to be well thankt

what e're falles more. We must to horse againe, Go, go,

prouide.

Enter Clowne and Parrolles.

Par. Good Mr Lauatch giue my Lord Lafew this letter,

I haue ere now sir beene better knowne to you, when

I haue held familiaritie with fresher cloathes: but I am

now sir muddied in fortunes mood, and smell somewhat

strong of her strong displeasure

Clo. Truely, Fortunes displeasure is but sluttish if it

smell so strongly as thou speak'st of: I will hencefoorth

eate no Fish of Fortunes butt'ring. Prethee alow the

winde

Par. Nay you neede not to stop your nose sir: I spake

but by a Metaphor

Clo. Indeed sir, if your Metaphor stinke, I will stop

my nose, or against any mans Metaphor. Prethe get thee

further

Par. Pray you sir deliuer me this paper

Clo. Foh, prethee stand away: a paper from fortunes

close-stoole, to giue to a Nobleman. Looke heere he

comes himselfe.

Enter Lafew.

Clo. Heere is a purre of Fortunes sir, or of Fortunes

Cat, but not a Muscat, that ha's falne into the vncleane

fish-pond of her displeasure, and as he sayes is muddied

withall. Pray you sir, vse the Carpe as you may, for he

lookes like a poore decayed, ingenious, foolish, rascally

knaue. I doe pittie his distresse in my smiles of comfort,

and leaue him to your Lordship

Par. My Lord I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly

scratch'd

Laf. And what would you haue me to doe? 'Tis too

late to paire her nailes now. Wherein haue you played

the knaue with fortune that she should scratch you, who

of her selfe is a good Lady, and would not haue knaues

thriue long vnder? There's a Cardecue for you: Let the

Iustices make you and fortune friends; I am for other

businesse

Par. I beseech your honour to heare mee one single

word,

Laf. you begge a single peny more: Come you shall

ha't, saue your word

Par. My name my good Lord is Parrolles

Laf. You begge more then word then. Cox my passion,

giue me your hand: How does your drumme?

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

mee

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

Par. It lies in you my Lord to bring me in some grace

for you did bring me out

Laf. Out vpon thee knaue, doest thou put vpon mee

at once both the office of God and the diuel: one brings

thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. The Kings

comming I know by his Trumpets. Sirrah, inquire further

after me, I had talke of you last night, though you

are a foole and a knaue, you shall eate, go too, follow

Par. I praise God for you.

Flourish. Enter King, old Lady, Lafew, the two French Lords, with

attendants.

Kin. We lost a Iewell of her, and our esteeme

Was made much poorer by it: but your sonne,

As mad in folly, lack'd the sence to know

Her estimation home

Old La. 'Tis past my Liege,

And I beseech your Maiestie to make it

Naturall rebellion, done i'th blade of youth,

When oyle and fire, too strong for reasons force,

Ore-beares it, and burnes on

Kin. My honour'd Lady,

I haue forgiuen and forgotten all,

Though my reuenges were high bent vpon him,

And watch'd the time to shoote

Laf. This I must say,

But first I begge my pardon: the yong Lord

Did to his Maiesty, his Mother, and his Ladie,

Offence of mighty note; but to himselfe

The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife,

Whose beauty did astonish the suruey

Of richest eies: whose words all eares tooke captiue,

Whose deere perfection, hearts that scorn'd to serue,

Humbly call'd Mistris

Kin. Praising what is lost,

Makes the remembrance deere. Well, call him hither,

We are reconcil'd, and the first view shall kill

All repetition: Let him not aske our pardon,

The nature of his great offence is dead,

And deeper then obliuion, we do burie

Th' incensing reliques of it. Let him approach

A stranger, no offender; and informe him

So 'tis our will he should

Gent. I shall my Liege

Kin. What sayes he to your daughter,

Haue you spoke?

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

Kin. Then shall we haue a match. I haue letters sent

me, that sets him high in fame.

Enter Count Bertram.

Laf. He lookes well on't

Kin. I am not a day of season,

For thou maist see a sun-shine, and a haile

In me at once: But to the brightest beames

Distracted clouds giue way, so stand thou forth,

The time is faire againe

Ber. My high repented blames

Deere Soueraigne pardon to me

Kin. All is whole,

Not one word more of the consumed time,

Let's take the instant by the forward top:

For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees

Th' inaudible, and noiselesse foot of time

Steales, ere we can effect them. You remember

The daughter of this Lord?

Ber. Admiringly my Liege, at first

I stucke my choice vpon her, ere my heart

Durst make too bold a herauld of my tongue:

Where the impression of mine eye enfixing,

Contempt his scornfull Perspectiue did lend me,

Which warpt the line, of euerie other fauour,

Scorn'd a faire colour, or exprest it stolne,

Extended or contracted all proportions

To a most hideous obiect. Thence it came,

That she whom all men prais'd, and whom my selfe,

Since I haue lost, haue lou'd; was in mine eye

The dust that did offend it

Kin. Well excus'd:

That thou didst loue her, strikes some scores away

From the great compt: but loue that comes too late,

Like a remorsefull pardon slowly carried

To the great sender, turnes a sowre offence,

Crying, that's good that's gone: Our rash faults,

Make triuiall price of serious things we haue,

Not knowing them, vntill we know their graue.

Oft our displeasures to our selues vniust,

Destroy our friends, and after weepe their dust:

Our owne loue waking, cries to see what's done,

While shamefull hate sleepes out the afternoone.

Be this sweet Helens knell, and now forget her.

Send forth your amorous token for faire Maudlin,

The maine consents are had, and heere wee'l stay

To see our widdowers second marriage day:

Which better then the first, O deere heauen blesse,

Or, ere they meete in me, O Nature cesse

Laf. Come on my sonne, in whom my houses name

Must be digested: giue a fauour from you

To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter,

That she may quickly come. By my old beard,

And eu'rie haire that's on't, Helen that's dead

Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this,

The last that ere I tooke her leaue at Court,

I saw vpon her finger

Ber. Hers it was not

King. Now pray you let me see it. For mine eye,

While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd too't:

This Ring was mine, and when I gaue it Hellen,

I bad her if her fortunes euer stoode

Necessitied to helpe, that by this token

I would releeue her. Had you that craft to reaue her

Of what should stead her most?

Ber. My gracious Soueraigne,

How ere it pleases you to take it so,

The ring was neuer hers

Old La. Sonne, on my life

I haue seene her weare it, and she reckon'd it

At her liues rate

Laf. I am sure I saw her weare it

Ber. You are deceiu'd my Lord, she neuer saw it:

In Florence was it from a casement throwne mee,

Wrap'd in a paper, which contain'd the name

Of her that threw it: Noble she was, and thought

I stood ingag'd, but when I had subscrib'd

To mine owne fortune, and inform'd her fully,

I could not answer in that course of Honour

As she had made the ouerture, she ceast

In heauie satisfaction, and would neuer

Receiue the Ring againe

Kin. Platus himselfe,

That knowes the tinct and multiplying med'cine,

Hath not in natures mysterie more science,

Then I haue in this Ring. 'Twas mine, 'twas Helens,

Who euer gaue it you: then if you know

That you are well acquainted with your selfe,

Confesse 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement

You got it from her. She call'd the Saints to suretie,

That she would neuer put it from her finger,

Vnlesse she gaue it to your selfe in bed,

Where you haue neuer come: or sent it vs

Vpon her great disaster

Ber. She neuer saw it

Kin. Thou speak'st it falsely: as I loue mine Honor,

And mak'st connecturall feares to come into me,

Which I would faine shut out, if it should proue

That thou art so inhumane, 'twill not proue so:

And yet I know not, thou didst hate her deadly,

And she is dead, which nothing but to close

Her eyes my selfe, could win me to beleeue,

More then to see this Ring. Take him away,

My fore-past proofes, how ere the matter fall

Shall taze my feares of little vanitie,

Hauing vainly fear'd too little. Away with him,

Wee'l sift this matter further

Ber. If you shall proue

This Ring was euer hers, you shall as easie

Proue that I husbanded her bed in Florence,

Where yet she neuer was.

Enter a Gentleman.

King. I am wrap'd in dismall thinkings

Gen. Gracious Soueraigne.

Whether I haue beene too blame or no, I know not,

Here's a petition from a Florentine,

Who hath for foure or fiue remoues come short,

To tender it her selfe. I vndertooke it,

Vanquish'd thereto by the faire grace and speech

Of the poore suppliant, who by this I know

Is heere attending: her businesse lookes in her

With an importing visage, and she told me

In a sweet verball breefe, it did concerne

Your Highnesse with her selfe.

A Letter.

Vpon his many protestations to marrie mee when his wife was

dead, I blush to say it, he wonne me. Now is the Count Rossillion

a Widdower, his vowes are forfeited to mee, and my

honors payed to him. Hee stole from Florence, taking no

leaue, and I follow him to his Countrey for Iustice: Grant

it me, O King, in you it best lies, otherwise a seducer flourishes,

and a poore Maid is vndone.

Diana Capilet

Laf. I will buy me a sonne in Law in a faire, and toule

for this. Ile none of him

Kin. The heauens haue thought well on thee Lafew,

To bring forth this discou'rie, seeke these sutors:

Go speedily, and bring againe the Count.

Enter Bertram.

I am a-feard the life of Hellen (Ladie)

Was fowly snatcht

Old La. Now iustice on the doers

King. I wonder sir, sir, wiues are monsters to you,

And that you flye them as you sweare them Lordship,

Yet you desire to marry. What woman's that?

Enter Widdow, Diana, and Parrolles.

Dia. I am my Lord a wretched Florentine,

Deriued from the ancient Capilet,

My suite as I do vnderstand you know,

And therefore know how farre I may be pittied

Wid. I am her Mother sir, whose age and honour

Both suffer vnder this complaint we bring,

And both shall cease, without your remedie

King. Come hether Count, do you know these Women?

Ber. My Lord, I neither can nor will denie,

But that I know them, do they charge me further?

Dia. Why do you looke so strange vpon your wife?

Ber. She's none of mine my Lord

Dia. If you shall marrie

You giue away this hand, and that is mine,

You giue away heauens vowes, and those are mine:

You giue away my selfe, which is knowne mine:

For I by vow am so embodied yours,

That she which marries you, must marrie me,

Either both or none

Laf. Your reputation comes too short for my daughter,

you are no husband for her