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pull at a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf, and beaten, thou shał: find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowlege; that I may say, in the default," he is a man I know.

Par. My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.

La. I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor doing eternal : for doing I am past; as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave.

[Exit. Par. Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord ! Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any convenience, an he were double and double a lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I would have of—I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again.

a

Re-enter LAFEU.

La. Sirrah, your lord and master's married ; there's news for you: you have a new mistress.

Par. I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of your wrongs. He is my good lord: whom I serve above, is

La. Who? God ?

my master.

1 At a peed.

:

Par. Ay, sir.

La. The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms o’ this fashion ? dost make hose of thy sleeves ? do other servants so ? Thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honor, if I were but two hours younger, I'd beat thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and every man should beat thee. I think, thou wast created for men to breathe 1 them. selves upon

thee. Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.

La. Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller : you are more saucy with lords and honorable personages, than the heraldry of your birth and virtue gives you commission. You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.

[Erit.

Enter BERTRAM.

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Par. Good, very good : it is so then.—Good, very good : let it be concealed awhile.

Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
Par. What is the matter, sweet heart?
Ber. Although before the solemn priest I have

sworn, I will not bed her.

1 Exercise.

Par.

What? what, sweet heart? Ber. O my Parolles, they have married me :I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.

Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! Ber. There's letters from my mother : what the

import is, I know not yet. Par. Ay, that would be known. To the wars,

my boy, to the wars !
He wears his honor in a box unseen,
That hugs his kicksy-wicksy 1 here at home;
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions !
France is a stable; we, that dwell in 't, jades :
Therefore, to the war !
Ber. It shall be so: I'll send her to

my

house; Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, And wherefore I am fled; write to the king That which I durst not speak. His present gift Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, Where noble fellows strike. War is no strife, To the dark house,? and the detested wife.

Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art sure !

Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advise ine. I'll send her straight away: to-morrow. I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.

a

! A cant term for a wife.
2 The house made gloomy by discontent.

:

Par. Why, these balls bound; there's noi: in

it.—'Tis hard :
A young man married, is a man that's marr'à :
Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go :
The king has done you wrong; but, hush! 'tis

[E:

SCENE IV.

The same.

Another room in the same.

Enter HELENA and clown.

Hel. My mother greets me kindly: is she well?

Clown. She is not well, but yet she has her health ; she's very merry, but yet she is not well; but thanks be given, she 's very well, and wants nothing i’ the world ; but yet she is not well.

Hel. If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's not very well ?

Clown. Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things.

Hel. What two things ?

Clown. One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her quickly! the other, that she's in earth, from whence God send her quickly!

Enter PAROLLES.

Par. Bless you, my fortunate lady!

Hel. I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortunes.

Par. You have my prayers to lead them on; and

a

to keep them on, have them still.—O, my knave! How does my old lady?

Clown. So that you had her wrinkles, and I her money,

I would she did as you say. Par. Why, I say nothing.

Clown. Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing. To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a very little of nothing.

Par. Away, thou ’rt a knave.

Clown. You should have said, sir, before a knave thou art a knave; that is, before me thou art a knave: this had been truth, sir.

Par. Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee. Clown. Did

you find me in yourself, sir? or were you taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure, and the increase of laughter.

Par. A good knave, i' faith, and well-fed. Madam, my lord will go away to-night; A very serious business calls on him. The great prerogative and rite of love, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknow

lege; But puts it off to a compell’d restraint; Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with

sweets, Which they distil now in the curbed time, To make the coming hour o’erflow with joy,

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