| [Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence attended;
the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers. | |
| DUKE | So that from point to point now have you heard
The fundamental reasons of this war, Whose great decision hath much blood let forth And more thirsts after. |
| First Lord | Holy seems the quarrel
Upon your grace's part; black and fearful On the opposer. |
| DUKE | Therefore we marvel much our cousin France
Would in so just a business shut his bosom Against our borrowing prayers. |
| Second Lord | Good my lord,
The reasons of our state I cannot yield, But like a common and an outward man, That the great figure of a council frames By self-unable motion: therefore dare not Say what I think of it, since I have found Myself in my incertain grounds to fail As often as I guess'd. |
| DUKE | Be it his pleasure. |
| First Lord | But I am sure the younger of our nature,
That surfeit on their ease, will day by day Come here for physic. |
| DUKE | Welcome shall they be;
And all the honours that can fly from us Shall on them settle. You know your places well; When better fall, for your avails they fell: To-morrow to the field. |
| [Flourish. Exeunt] |
| [Enter COUNTESS and Clown] | |
| COUNTESS | It hath happened all as I would have had it, save
that he comes not along with her. |
| Clown | By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very
melancholy man. |
| COUNTESS | By what observance, I pray you? |
| Clown | Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the
ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. |
| COUNTESS | Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. |
| [Opening a letter] | |
| Clown | I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our
old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: the brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. |
| COUNTESS | What have we here? |
| Clown | E'en that you have there. |
| [Exit] | |
| COUNTESS | [Reads] I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath
recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not' eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it before the report come. If there be breadth enough in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty to you. Your unfortunate son, BERTRAM. This is not well, rash and unbridled boy. To fly the favours of so good a king; To pluck his indignation on thy head By the misprising of a maid too virtuous For the contempt of empire. |
| [Re-enter Clown] | |
| Clown | O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two
soldiers and my young lady! |
| COUNTESS | What is the matter? |
| Clown | Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some
comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would. |
| COUNTESS | Why should he be killed? |
| Clown | So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does:
the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of men, though it be the getting of children. Here they come will tell you more: for my part, I only hear your son was run away. |
| [Exit] | |
| [Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen] | |
| First Gentleman | Save you, good madam. |
| HELENA | Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. |
| Second Gentleman | Do not say so. |
| COUNTESS | Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen,
I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, That the first face of neither, on the start, Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you? |
| Second Gentleman | Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence:
We met him thitherward; for thence we came, And, after some dispatch in hand at court, Thither we bend again. |
| HELENA | Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. |
| [Reads] | |
| When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which
never shall come off, and show me a child begotten of thy body that I am father to, then call me husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.' This is a dreadful sentence. | |
| COUNTESS | Brought you this letter, gentlemen? |
| First Gentleman | Ay, madam;
And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain. |
| COUNTESS | I prithee, lady, have a better cheer;
If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son; But I do wash his name out of my blood, And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? |
| Second Gentleman | Ay, madam. |
| COUNTESS | And to be a soldier? |
| Second Gentleman | Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't,
The duke will lay upon him all the honour That good convenience claims. |
| COUNTESS | Return you thither? |
| First Gentleman | Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. |
| HELENA | [Reads] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France.
'Tis bitter. |
| COUNTESS | Find you that there? |
| HELENA | Ay, madam. |
| First Gentleman | 'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his
heart was not consenting to. |
| COUNTESS | Nothing in France, until he have no wife!
There's nothing here that is too good for him But only she; and she deserves a lord That twenty such rude boys might tend upon And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him? |
| First Gentleman | A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have sometime known. |
| COUNTESS | Parolles, was it not? |
| First Gentleman | Ay, my good lady, he. |
| COUNTESS | A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
My son corrupts a well-derived nature With his inducement. |
| First Gentleman | Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that too much, Which holds him much to have. |
| COUNTESS | You're welcome, gentlemen.
I will entreat you, when you see my son, To tell him that his sword can never win The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you Written to bear along. |
| Second Gentleman | We serve you, madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs. |
| COUNTESS | Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near! |
| [Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen] | |
| HELENA | 'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'
Nothing in France, until he has no wife! Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France; Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I That chase thee from thy country and expose Those tender limbs of thine to the event Of the none-sparing war? and is it I That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, That ride upon the violent speed of fire, Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air, That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; Whoever charges on his forward breast, I am the caitiff that do hold him to't; And, though I kill him not, I am the cause His death was so effected: better 'twere I met the ravin lion when he roar'd With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere That all the miseries which nature owes Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon, Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, As oft it loses all: I will be gone; My being here it is that holds thee hence: Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although The air of paradise did fan the house And angels officed all: I will be gone, That pitiful rumour may report my flight, To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. |
| [Exit] |
| [Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM,
PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets] | |
| DUKE | The general of our horse thou art; and we,
Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence Upon thy promising fortune. |
| BERTRAM | Sir, it is
A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake To the extreme edge of hazard. |
| DUKE | Then go thou forth;
And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, As thy auspicious mistress! |
| BERTRAM | This very day,
Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove A lover of thy drum, hater of love. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Enter COUNTESS and Steward] | |
| COUNTESS | Alas! and would you take the letter of her?
Might you not know she would do as she has done, By sending me a letter? Read it again. |
| Steward | [Reads] |
| I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone:
Ambitious love hath so in me offended, That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, With sainted vow my faults to have amended. Write, write, that from the bloody course of war My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far His name with zealous fervor sanctify: His taken labours bid him me forgive; I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: He is too good and fair for death and me: Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. | |
| COUNTESS | Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words!
Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her, I could have well diverted her intents, Which thus she hath prevented. |
| Steward | Pardon me, madam:
If I had given you this at over-night, She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, Pursuit would be but vain. |
| COUNTESS | What angel shall
Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo, To this unworthy husband of his wife; Let every word weigh heavy of her worth That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief. Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. Dispatch the most convenient messenger: When haply he shall hear that she is gone, He will return; and hope I may that she, Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, Led hither by pure love: which of them both Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense To make distinction: provide this messenger: My heart is heavy and mine age is weak; Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA,
and MARIANA, with other Citizens] | |
| Widow | Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we
shall lose all the sight. |
| DIANA | They say the French count has done most honourable service. |
| Widow | It is reported that he has taken their greatest
commander; and that with his own hand he slew the duke's brother. |
| [Tucket] | |
| We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary
way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. | |
| MARIANA | Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with
the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and no legacy is so rich as honesty. |
| Widow | I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited
by a gentleman his companion. |
| MARIANA | I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a
filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, though there were no further danger known but the modesty which is so lost. |
| DIANA | You shall not need to fear me. |
| Widow | I hope so. |
| [Enter HELENA, disguised like a Pilgrim] | |
| Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at
my house; thither they send one another: I'll question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound? | |
| HELENA | To Saint Jaques le Grand.
Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? |
| Widow | At the Saint Francis here beside the port. |
| HELENA | Is this the way? |
| Widow | Ay, marry, is't. |
| [A march afar] | |
| Hark you! they come this way.
If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, But till the troops come by, I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; The rather, for I think I know your hostess As ample as myself. | |
| HELENA | Is it yourself? |
| Widow | If you shall please so, pilgrim. |
| HELENA | I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. |
| Widow | You came, I think, from France? |
| HELENA | I did so. |
| Widow | Here you shall see a countryman of yours
That has done worthy service. |
| HELENA | His name, I pray you. |
| DIANA | The Count Rousillon: know you such a one? |
| HELENA | But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him:
His face I know not. |
| DIANA | Whatsome'er he is,
He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, As 'tis reported, for the king had married him Against his liking: think you it is so? |
| HELENA | Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady. |
| DIANA | There is a gentleman that serves the count
Reports but coarsely of her. |
| HELENA | What's his name? |
| DIANA | Monsieur Parolles. |
| HELENA | O, I believe with him,
In argument of praise, or to the worth Of the great count himself, she is too mean To have her name repeated: all her deserving Is a reserved honesty, and that I have not heard examined. |
| DIANA | Alas, poor lady!
'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife Of a detesting lord. |
| Widow | I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is,
Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her A shrewd turn, if she pleased. |
| HELENA | How do you mean?
May be the amorous count solicits her In the unlawful purpose. |
| Widow | He does indeed;
And brokes with all that can in such a suit Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: But she is arm'd for him and keeps her guard In honestest defence. |
| MARIANA | The gods forbid else! |
| Widow | So, now they come: |
| [Drum and Colours] | |
| [Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the whole army] | |
| That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son;
That, Escalus. | |
| HELENA | Which is the Frenchman? |
| DIANA | He;
That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow. I would he loved his wife: if he were honester He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman? |
| HELENA | I like him well. |
| DIANA | 'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave
That leads him to these places: were I his lady, I would Poison that vile rascal. |
| HELENA | Which is he? |
| DIANA | That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy? |
| HELENA | Perchance he's hurt i' the battle. |
| PAROLLES | Lose our drum! well. |
| MARIANA | He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us. |
| Widow | Marry, hang you! |
| MARIANA | And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! |
| [Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and army] | |
| Widow | The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you
Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound, Already at my house. |
| HELENA | I humbly thank you:
Please it this matron and this gentle maid To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, I will bestow some precepts of this virgin Worthy the note. |
| BOTH | We'll take your offer kindly. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords] | |
| Second Lord | Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his
way. |
| First Lord | If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no
more in your respect. |
| Second Lord | On my life, my lord, a bubble. |
| BERTRAM | Do you think I am so far deceived in him? |
| Second Lord | Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge,
without any malice, but to speak of him as my kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordship's entertainment. |
| First Lord | It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in
his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some great and trusty business in a main danger fail you. |
| BERTRAM | I would I knew in what particular action to try him. |
| First Lord | None better than to let him fetch off his drum,
which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. |
| Second Lord | I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly
surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship present at his examination: if he do not, for the promise of his life and in the highest compulsion of base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the intelligence in his power against you, and that with the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never trust my judgment in any thing. |
| First Lord | O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum;
he says he has a stratagem for't: when your lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be melted, if you give him not John Drum's entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes. |
| [Enter PAROLLES] | |
| Second Lord | [Aside to BERTRAM] O, for the love of laughter,
hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch off his drum in any hand. |
| BERTRAM | How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your
disposition. |
| First Lord | A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. |
| PAROLLES | 'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost!
There was excellent command,--to charge in with our horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers! |
| First Lord | That was not to be blamed in the command of the
service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to command. |
| BERTRAM | Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some
dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is not to be recovered. |
| PAROLLES | It might have been recovered. |
| BERTRAM | It might; but it is not now. |
| PAROLLES | It is to be recovered: but that the merit of
service is seldom attributed to the true and exact performer, I would have that drum or another, or 'hic jacet.' |
| BERTRAM | Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you
think your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument of honour again into his native quarter, be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it. and extend to you what further becomes his greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your worthiness. |
| PAROLLES | By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. |
| BERTRAM | But you must not now slumber in it. |
| PAROLLES | I'll about it this evening: and I will presently
pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; and by midnight look to hear further from me. |
| BERTRAM | May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it? |
| PAROLLES | I know not what the success will be, my lord; but
the attempt I vow. |
| BERTRAM | I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of
thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. |
| PAROLLES | I love not many words. |
| [Exit] | |
| Second Lord | No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a
strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems to undertake this business, which he knows is not to be done; damns himself to do and dares better be damned than to do't? |
| First Lord | You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it
is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but when you find him out, you have him ever after. |
| BERTRAM | Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of
this that so seriously he does address himself unto? |
| Second Lord | None in the world; but return with an invention and
clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall to-night; for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect. |
| First Lord | We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case
him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very night. |
| Second Lord | I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught. |
| BERTRAM | Your brother he shall go along with me. |
| Second Lord | As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. |
| [Exit] | |
| BERTRAM | Now will I lead you to the house, and show you
The lass I spoke of. |
| First Lord | But you say she's honest. |
| BERTRAM | That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once
And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her, By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind, Tokens and letters which she did re-send; And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature: Will you go see her? |
| First Lord | With all my heart, my lord. |
| [Exeunt] |
| [Enter HELENA and Widow] | |
| HELENA | If you misdoubt me that I am not she,
I know not how I shall assure you further, But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. |
| Widow | Though my estate be fallen, I was well born,
Nothing acquainted with these businesses; And would not put my reputation now In any staining act. |
| HELENA | Nor would I wish you.
First, give me trust, the count he is my husband, And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken Is so from word to word; and then you cannot, By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, Err in bestowing it. |
| Widow | I should believe you:
For you have show'd me that which well approves You're great in fortune. |
| HELENA | Take this purse of gold,
And let me buy your friendly help thus far, Which I will over-pay and pay again When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter, Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent, As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. Now his important blood will nought deny That she'll demand: a ring the county wears, That downward hath succeeded in his house From son to son, some four or five descents Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, Howe'er repented after. |
| Widow | Now I see
The bottom of your purpose. |
| HELENA | You see it lawful, then: it is no more,
But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; In fine, delivers me to fill the time, Herself most chastely absent: after this, To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns To what is passed already. |
| Widow | I have yielded:
Instruct my daughter how she shall persever, That time and place with this deceit so lawful May prove coherent. Every night he comes With musics of all sorts and songs composed To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us To chide him from our eaves; for he persists As if his life lay on't. |
| HELENA | Why then to-night
Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed And lawful meaning in a lawful act, Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact: But let's about it. |
| [Exeunt] |