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twg_000000014300 | the danger is in standing tot; thats 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 the two Gentlemen. FIRST GENTLEMAN. Save you, good madam. HELENA. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. SECOND GENTLEMAN. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014301 | 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, hes gone to serve the Duke of Florence; We met him thitherward, for thence we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014302 | came, And, after some despatch in hand at court, Thither we bend again. HELENA. Look on this letter, madam; heres 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014303 | 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 pains. COUNTESS. I prythee, lady, have a better cheer; If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, Thou robbst me of a moiety. He was my son, But I do wash his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014304 | 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, believet, 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014305 | 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! Theres nothing here that is too good for him But only | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014306 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014307 | 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. Yare 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 Ill entreat you Written to bear | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014308 | 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, Rossillon, none in France; Then hast | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014309 | thou all again. Poor lord, ist 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014310 | 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 tot; And though I kill him not, I am the cause His death was so effected. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014311 | Better twere I met the ravin lion when he roard With sharp constraint of hunger; better twere That all the miseries which nature owes Were mine at once. No; come thou home, Rossillon, 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014312 | I stay here to dot? No, no, although The air of paradise did fan the house, And angels officd 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, Ill steal away. [_Exit._] SCENE III. Florence. Before the Dukes palace. Flourish. Enter the Duke | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014313 | of Florence, Bertram, drum and trumpets, Soldiers, Parolles. 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 Well strive to bear it for your worthy sake To thextreme edge of hazard. DUKE. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014314 | 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._] SCENE IV. Rossillon. A room in the Countesss palace. Enter Countess and Steward. COUNTESS. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014315 | 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. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014316 | 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 fervour 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 dog | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014317 | 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! Rynaldo, 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014318 | hath prevented. STEWARD. Pardon me, madam; If I had given you this at over-night, She might have been oertaen; 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, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014319 | write, Rynaldo, 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014320 | 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._] SCENE V. Without the walls of Florence. Enter an old | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014321 | Widow of Florence, Diana, Violenta, Mariana and 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 greatst commander, and that with his own hand he slew the dukes brother. [_A tucket | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014322 | afar off._] We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary way. Hark! you may know by their trumpets. MARIANA. Come, lets 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014323 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014324 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014325 | further danger known but the modesty which is so lost. DIANA. You shall not need to fear me. Enter Helena in the dress of a pilgrim. WIDOW. I hope so. Look, here comes a pilgrim. I know she will lie at my house; thither they send one another; Ill question her. God save you, pilgrim! Whither are bound? HELENA. To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014326 | 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? [_A march afar._] WIDOW. Ay, marry, ist. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014327 | lodgd; 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. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014328 | HELENA. His name, I pray you. DIANA. The Count Rossillon. Know you such a one? HELENA. But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him; His face I know not. DIANA. Whatsomeer he is, Hes bravely taken here. He stole from France, As tis reported, for the king had married him Against his liking. Think you it is so? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014329 | 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. Whats 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014330 | her deserving Is a reserved honesty, and that I have not heard examind. DIANA. Alas, poor lady! Tis a hard bondage to become the wife Of a detesting lord. WIDOW. Ay, right; good creature, wheresoeer she is, Her heart weighs sadly. This young maid might do her A shrewd turn, if she pleasd. HELENA. How do you mean? Maybe the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014331 | 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 armd for him, and keeps her guard In honestest defence. Enter, with a drum and colours, a party of the Florentine army, Bertram and Parolles. MARIANA. The gods | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014332 | forbid else! WIDOW. So, now they come. That is Antonio, the Dukes eldest son; That Escalus. HELENA. Which is the Frenchman? DIANA. He; That with the plume; tis a most gallant fellow. I would he lovd his wife; if he were honester He were much goodlier. Ist not a handsome gentleman? HELENA. I like him well. DIANA. Tis pity he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014333 | is not honest. Yonds 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 hes hurt i the battle. PAROLLES. Lose our drum! Well. MARIANA. Hes shrewdly vexd at something. Look, he has spied us. WIDOW. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014334 | Marry, hang you! MARIANA. And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! [_Exeunt Bertram, Parolles, Officers and Soldiers._] WIDOW. The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you Where you shall host; of enjoind penitents Theres 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014335 | To eat with us tonight; 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. Well take your offer kindly. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. Enter Bertram and the two French Lords. FIRST LORD. Nay, good my lord, put him tot; let him have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014336 | his way. SECOND LORD. If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your respect. FIRST LORD. On my life, my lord, a bubble. BERTRAM. Do you think I am so far deceived in him? FIRST LORD. Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, without any malice, but to speak of him as my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014337 | kinsman, hes a most notable coward, an infinite and endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner of no one good quality worthy your lordships entertainment. SECOND 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014338 | would I knew in what particular action to try him. SECOND LORD. None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. FIRST 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014339 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014340 | 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 anything. SECOND LORD. O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; he says he has a stratagem fort. When your lordship sees the bottom of his success int, and to what metal | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014341 | this counterfeit lump of ore will be melted, if you give him not John Drums entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. Here he comes. Enter Parolles. FIRST LORD. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014342 | disposition. SECOND LORD. A pox on t; let it go; tis but a drum. PAROLLES. But a drum! Ist 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. SECOND LORD. That was not to be blamd in the command of the service; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014343 | 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. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014344 | 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, tot, monsieur, if you think your mystery in stratagem can bring this instrument of honour again into his native quarter, be magnanimous in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014345 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014346 | now slumber in it. PAROLLES. Ill 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014347 | be, my lord, but the attempt I vow. BERTRAM. I know thart valiant; and to the possibility of thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. PAROLLES. I love not many words. [_Exit._] FIRST 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014348 | is not to be done; damns himself to do, and dares better be damnd than to dot. SECOND LORD. You do not know him, my lord, as we do; certain it is that he will steal himself into a mans favour, and for a week escape a great deal of discoveries, but when you find him out, you have him | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014349 | ever after. BERTRAM. Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of this, that so seriously he does address himself unto? FIRST 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 tonight; for indeed he is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014350 | not for your lordships respect. SECOND LORD. Well make you some sport with the fox ere we case him. He was first smokd by the old Lord Lafew; when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very night. FIRST LORD. I must go look my twigs. He | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014351 | shall be caught. BERTRAM. Your brother, he shall go along with me. FIRST LORD. Ast please your lordship. Ill leave you. [_Exit._] BERTRAM. Now will I lead you to the house, and show you The lass I spoke of. SECOND LORD. But you say shes honest. BERTRAM. Thats all the fault. I spoke with her but once, And found her | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014352 | 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. Shes a fair creature; Will you go see her? SECOND LORD. With all my heart, my lord. [_Exeunt._] SCENE VII. Florence. A room in the Widows house. Enter Helena | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014353 | 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 falln, I was well born, Nothing acquainted with these businesses, And would not put my reputation now In any staining act. HELENA. Nor would I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014354 | 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 showd me that which well approves Yare | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014355 | 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 woos your daughter Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, Resolvd to carry her; let her in fine consent, As well direct her how tis best | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014356 | to bear it. Now his important blood will naught deny That shell 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014357 | seem too dear, Howeer 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, To marry her, Ill add three | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014358 | thousand crowns To what is passd 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 composd To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us To chide him from our eaves; for he persists As if | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014359 | his life lay on t. HELENA. Why then tonight 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 lets about it. [_Exeunt._] ACT IV. SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp. Enter first Lord with five or | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014360 | six Soldiers in ambush. FIRST LORD. He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. When you sally upon him, speak what terrible language you will; though you understand it not yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to understand him, unless someone among us, whom we must produce for an interpreter. FIRST SOLDIER. Good captain, let me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014361 | be th interpreter. FIRST LORD. Art not acquainted with him? Knows he not thy voice? FIRST SOLDIER. No sir, I warrant you. FIRST LORD. But what linsey-woolsey has thou to speak to us again? FIRST SOLDIER. Een such as you speak to me. FIRST LORD. He must think us some band of strangers i the adversarys entertainment. Now he hath | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014362 | a smack of all neighbouring languages, therefore we must every one be a man of his own fancy; not to know what we speak one to another, so we seem to know, is to know straight our purpose: choughs language, gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, ho! Here he comes; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014363 | to beguile two hours in a sleep, and then to return and swear the lies he forges. Enter Parolles. PAROLLES. Ten oclock. Within these three hours twill be time enough to go home. What shall I say I have done? It must be a very plausive invention that carries it. They begin to smoke me, and disgraces have of late | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014364 | knockd too often at my door. I find my tongue is too foolhardy, but my heart hath the fear of Mars before it, and of his creatures, not daring the reports of my tongue. FIRST LORD. [_Aside._] This is the first truth that eer thine own tongue was guilty of. PAROLLES. What the devil should move me to undertake the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014365 | recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in exploit; yet slight ones will not carry it. They will say Came you off with so little? and great ones I dare not give. Wherefore, whats the instance? Tongue, I must | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014366 | put you into a butter-womans mouth, and buy myself another of Bajazets mule, if you prattle me into these perils. FIRST LORD. [_Aside._] Is it possible he should know what he is, and be that he is? PAROLLES. I would the cutting of my garments would serve the turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword. FIRST LORD. [_Aside._] We | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014367 | cannot afford you so. PAROLLES. Or the baring of my beard, and to say it was in stratagem. FIRST LORD. [_Aside._] Twould not do. PAROLLES. Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. FIRST LORD. [_Aside._] Hardly serve. PAROLLES. Though I swore I leapd from the window of the citadel, FIRST LORD. [_Aside._] How deep? PAROLLES. Thirty fathom. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014368 | FIRST LORD. [_Aside._] Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. PAROLLES. I would I had any drum of the enemys; I would swear I recoverd it. FIRST LORD. [_Aside._] You shall hear one anon. PAROLLES. A drum now of the enemys! [_Alarum within._] FIRST LORD. _Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo._ ALL. _Cargo, cargo, cargo, villianda par corbo, cargo._ | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014369 | [_They seize and blindfold him._] PAROLLES. O, ransom, ransom! Do not hide mine eyes. FIRST SOLDIER. _Boskos thromuldo boskos._ PAROLLES. I know you are the Muskos regiment, And I shall lose my life for want of language. If there be here German, or Dane, Low Dutch, Italian, or French, let him speak to me, Ill discover that which shall undo | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014370 | the Florentine. FIRST SOLDIER. _Boskos vauvado._ I understand thee, and can speak thy tongue. _Kerelybonto._ Sir, Betake thee to thy faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom. PAROLLES. O! FIRST SOLDIER. O, pray, pray, pray! _Manka revania dulche._ FIRST LORD. _Oscorbidulchos volivorco._ FIRST SOLDIER. The General is content to spare thee yet; And, hoodwinkd as thou art, will lead | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014371 | thee on To gather from thee. Haply thou mayst inform Something to save thy life. PAROLLES. O, let me live, And all the secrets of our camp Ill show, Their force, their purposes; nay, Ill speak that Which you will wonder at. FIRST SOLDIER. But wilt thou faithfully? PAROLLES. If I do not, damn me. FIRST SOLDIER. _Acordo linta._ Come | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014372 | on; thou art granted space. [_Exit, with Parolles guarded._] A short alarum within. FIRST LORD. Go tell the Count Rossillon and my brother We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled Till we do hear from them. SECOND SOLDIER. Captain, I will. FIRST LORD. A will betray us all unto ourselves; Inform on that. SECOND SOLDIER. So I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014373 | will, sir. FIRST LORD. Till then Ill keep him dark, and safely lockd. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. Florence. A room in the Widows house. Enter Bertram and Diana. BERTRAM. They told me that your name was Fontybell. DIANA. No, my good lord, Diana. BERTRAM. Titled goddess; And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, In your fine frame hath love no | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014374 | quality? If the quick fire of youth light not your mind, You are no maiden but a monument; When you are dead, you should be such a one As you are now; for you are cold and stern, And now you should be as your mother was When your sweet self was got. DIANA. She then was honest. BERTRAM. So | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014375 | should you be. DIANA. No. My mother did but duty; such, my lord, As you owe to your wife. BERTRAM. No more a that! I prythee do not strive against my vows; I was compelld to her; but I love thee By loves own sweet constraint, and will for ever Do thee all rights of service. DIANA. Ay, so you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014376 | serve us Till we serve you; but when you have our roses, You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves, And mock us with our bareness. BERTRAM. How have I sworn? DIANA. Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, But the plain single vow that is vowd true. What is not holy, that we swear not by, But | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014377 | take the highest to witness: then, pray you, tell me, If I should swear by Joves great attributes I lovd you dearly, would you believe my oaths When I did love you ill? This has no holding, To swear by him whom I protest to love That I will work against him. Therefore your oaths Are words and poor conditions; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014378 | but unseald, At least in my opinion. BERTRAM. Change it, change it. Be not so holy-cruel. Love is holy; And my integrity neer knew the crafts That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, But give thyself unto my sick desires, Who then recovers. Say thou art mine, and ever My love as it begins shall so persever. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014379 | DIANA. I see that men make hopes in such a case, That well forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. BERTRAM. Ill lend it thee, my dear, but have no power To give it from me. DIANA. Will you not, my lord? BERTRAM. It is an honour longing to our house, Bequeathed down from many ancestors, Which were the greatest obloquy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014380 | i the world In me to lose. DIANA. Mine honours such a ring; My chastitys the jewel of our house, Bequeathed down from many ancestors, Which were the greatest obloquy i the world In me to lose. Thus your own proper wisdom Brings in the champion honour on my part Against your vain assault. BERTRAM. Here, take my ring; My | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014381 | house, mine honour, yea, my life be thine, And Ill be bid by thee. DIANA. When midnight comes, knock at my chamber window; Ill order take my mother shall not hear. Now will I charge you in the band of truth, When you have conquerd my yet maiden-bed, Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me. My reasons are | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014382 | most strong; and you shall know them When back again this ring shall be deliverd; And on your finger in the night, Ill put Another ring, that what in time proceeds May token to the future our past deeds. Adieu till then; then fail not. You have won A wife of me, though there my hope be done. BERTRAM. A | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014383 | heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. [_Exit._] DIANA. For which live long to thank both heaven and me! You may so in the end. My mother told me just how he would woo, As if she sat ins heart. She says all men Have the like oaths. He had sworn to marry me When his wifes dead; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014384 | therefore Ill lie with him When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, Marry that will, I live and die a maid. Only, in this disguise, I thinkt no sin To cozen him that would unjustly win. [_Exit._] SCENE III. The Florentine camp. Enter the two French Lords and two or three Soldiers. FIRST LORD. You have not given | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014385 | him his mothers letter? SECOND LORD. I have delivred it an hour since; there is something int that stings his nature; for on the reading it, he changd almost into another man. FIRST LORD. He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady. SECOND LORD. Especially he hath incurred | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014386 | the everlasting displeasure of the king, who had even tund his bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. FIRST LORD. When you have spoken it, tis dead, and I am the grave of it. SECOND LORD. He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in Florence, of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014387 | a most chaste renown, and this night he fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour; he hath given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself made in the unchaste composition. FIRST LORD. Now, God delay our rebellion! As we are ourselves, what things are we! SECOND LORD. Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014388 | all treasons, we still see them reveal themselves till they attain to their abhorrd ends; so he that in this action contrives against his own nobility, in his proper stream, oerflows himself. FIRST LORD. Is it not meant damnable in us to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company tonight? SECOND LORD. Not till | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014389 | after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. FIRST LORD. That approaches apace. I would gladly have him see his company anatomized, that he might take a measure of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit. SECOND LORD. We will not meddle with him till he come; for his presence must be the whip of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014390 | the other. FIRST LORD. In the meantime, what hear you of these wars? SECOND LORD. I hear there is an overture of peace. FIRST LORD. Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. SECOND LORD. What will Count Rossillon do then? Will he travel higher, or return again into France? FIRST LORD. I perceive by this demand, you are not altogether | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014391 | of his council. SECOND LORD. Let it be forbid, sir! So should I be a great deal of his act. FIRST LORD. Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his house. Her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere sanctimony she accomplished; and there residing, the tenderness of her nature | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014392 | became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and now she sings in heaven. SECOND LORD. How is this justified? FIRST LORD. The stronger part of it by her own letters, which makes her story true, even to the point of her death. Her death itself, which could not be her office | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014393 | to say is come, was faithfully confirmd by the rector of the place. SECOND LORD. Hath the count all this intelligence? FIRST LORD. Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, to the full arming of the verity. SECOND LORD. I am heartily sorry that hell be glad of this. FIRST LORD. How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014394 | our losses! SECOND LORD. And how mightily some other times we drown our gain in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath here acquird for him shall at home be encountered with a shame as ample. FIRST LORD. The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together; our virtues would be proud if our | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014395 | faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair if they were not cherishd by our virtues. Enter a Messenger. How now? Wheres your master? MESSENGER. He met the duke in the street, sir; of whom he hath taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next morning for France. The duke hath offered him letters of commendations to the king. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014396 | SECOND LORD. They shall be no more than needful there, if they were more than they can commend. Enter Bertram. FIRST LORD. They cannot be too sweet for the kings tartness. Heres his lordship now. How now, my lord, ist not after midnight? BERTRAM. I have tonight despatchd sixteen businesses, a months length apiece; by an abstract of success: I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014397 | have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his nearest; buried a wife, mournd for her, writ to my lady mother I am returning, entertained my convoy, and between these main parcels of despatch effected many nicer needs: the last was the greatest, but that I have not ended yet. SECOND LORD. If the business be of any difficulty | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014398 | and this morning your departure hence, it requires haste of your lordship. BERTRAM. I mean the business is not ended, as fearing to hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this dialogue between the Fool and the Soldier? Come, bring forth this counterfeit module has deceivd me like a double-meaning prophesier. SECOND LORD. Bring him forth. [_Exeunt Soldiers._] Has | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000014399 | sat i the stocks all night, poor gallant knave. BERTRAM. No matter; his heels have deservd it, in usurping his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? FIRST LORD. I have told your lordship already; the stocks carry him. But to answer you as you would be understood: he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk; he | 60 | gutenberg |
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