William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (471 page)
Read William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition Online
Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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PAROLES As you’ll have her.
BERTRAM
I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,
Given order for our horses, and tonight,
When I should take possession of the bride,
End ere I do begin.
Given order for our horses, and tonight,
When I should take possession of the bride,
End ere I do begin.
LAFEU (aside) A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner, but one that lies three-thirds and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard and thrice beaten.
(To Paroles
) God save you, captain.
(To Paroles
) God save you, captain.
BERTRAM)
(to Paroles)
Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur?
(to Paroles)
Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur?
PAROLES I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord’s displeasure. 35
LAFEU You have made shift to run into’t, boots and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard, and out of it you’ll run again, rather than suffer question for your residence.
BERTRAM) It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.
LAFEU And shall do so ever, though I took him at’s prayers. Fare you well, my lord, and believe this of me: there can be no kernel in this light nut. The soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in matter of heavy consequence. I have kept of them tame, and know their natures.—Farewell, monsieur. I have spoken better of you than you have wit or will to deserve at my hand, but we must do good against evil.
Exit
PAROLES An idle lord, I swear.
BERTRAM I think not so.
PAROLES Why, do you not know him?
BERTRAM
Yes, I do know him well, and common speech
Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.
Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog.
Enter Helen,
⌈
attended
⌉
HELEN
I have, sir, as I was commanded from you,
Spoke with the King, and have procured his leave
For present parting; only he desires
Some private speech with you.
Spoke with the King, and have procured his leave
For present parting; only he desires
Some private speech with you.
BERTRAM)
I shall obey his will.
You must not marvel, Helen, at my course,
Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
The ministration and required office
On my particular. Prepared I was not
For such a business, therefore am I found
So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat you
That presently you take your way for home,
And rather muse than ask why I entreat you,
For my respects are better than they seem,
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater than shows itself at the first view
To you that know them not. This to my mother.
Which holds not colour with the time, nor does
The ministration and required office
On my particular. Prepared I was not
For such a business, therefore am I found
So much unsettled. This drives me to entreat you
That presently you take your way for home,
And rather muse than ask why I entreat you,
For my respects are better than they seem,
And my appointments have in them a need
Greater than shows itself at the first view
To you that know them not. This to my mother.
He gives her a letter
’Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so
I leave you to your wisdom.
I leave you to your wisdom.
HELEN
Sir, I can nothing say
But that I am your most obedient servant.
BERTRAM
Come, come, no more of that.
HELEN
And ever shall
With true observance seek to eke out that
Wherein toward me my homely stars have failed
To equal my great fortune.
Wherein toward me my homely stars have failed
To equal my great fortune.
BERTRAM
Let that go.
My haste is very great. Farewell. Hie home.
HELEN
Pray sir, your pardon.
BERTRAM
Well, what would you say?
HELEN
I am not worthy of the wealth I owe,
Nor dare I say ’tis mine—and yet it is—
But like a timorous thief most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.
Nor dare I say ’tis mine—and yet it is—
But like a timorous thief most fain would steal
What law does vouch mine own.
BERTRAM
What would you have?
HELEN
Something, and scarce so much: nothing indeed.
I would not tell you what I would, my lord. Faith,
yes:
Strangers and foes do sunder and not kiss.
I would not tell you what I would, my lord. Faith,
yes:
Strangers and foes do sunder and not kiss.
BERTRAM
I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse.
HELEN
I shall not break your bidding, good my lord.—
Where are my other men?—Monsieur, farewell.
Where are my other men?—Monsieur, farewell.
Exeunt Helen
⌈
and attendants at one door
⌉
⌈
and attendants at one door
⌉
BERTRAM
Go thou toward home, where I will never come
Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.—
Away, and for our flight.
Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum.—
Away, and for our flight.
PAROLES
Bravely.
Coraggio!
Coraggio!
Exeunt
⌈
at another door
⌉
3.1⌈
at another door
⌉
Flourish of trumpets. Enter the Duke of Florence and the two Lords Dumaine, 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.
The fundamental reasons of this war,
Whose great decision hath much blood let forth,
And more thirsts after.
FIRST LORD DUMAINE Holy seems the quarrel
Upon your grace’s part; black and fearful
On the opposer.
On the opposer.
DUKE
Therefore we marvel much our cousin France
Would in so just a business shut his bosom
Against our borrowing prayers.
Would in so just a business shut his bosom
Against our borrowing prayers.
SECOND LORD DUMAINE
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 guessed.
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 guessed.
DUKE
Be it his pleasure.
FIRST LORD DUMAINE
But I am sure the younger of our nation,
That surfeit on their ease, will day by day
Come here for physic.
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.
Tomorrow to the field.
Shall on them settle. You know your places well;
When better fall, for your avails they fell.
Tomorrow to the field.
Flourish. Exeunt
3.2Enter the Countess with a letter, and Lavatch
COUNTESS It hath happened all as I would have had it, save that he comes not along with her.
LAVATCH By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man.
COUNTESS By what observance, I pray you?
LAVATCH 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.
She opens the letter and reads
LAVATCH (aside) I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court. Our old lings and our Isbels o‘th’ country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o’th’ 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?
LAVATCH E’en that you have there.
Exit
COUNTESS
(reads the letter aloud)
’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.
(reads the letter aloud)
’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 misprizing of a maid too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.
To fly the favours of so good a King,
To pluck his indignation on thy head
By the misprizing of a maid too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.
Enter Lavatch
LAVATCH O madam, yonder is heavy news within, between two soldiers and my young lady.
COUNTESS What is the matter?
LAVATCH 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?
LAVATCH 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 heard your son was run away.
[Exit]
[Exit]
Enter Helen with a letter, and the two Lords Dumaine
SECOND LORD DUMAINE
(to the Countess
)
(to the Countess
)
Save you, good madam.
HELEN
Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
FIRST LORD DUMAINE Do not say so.
COUNTESS
(to Helen
)
(to Helen
)
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?
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?
FIRST LORD DUMAINE
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.
We met him thitherward, for thence we came,
And, after some dispatch in hand at court,
Thither we bend again.
HELEN
Look on his letter, madam: here’s my passport.
⌈
She
⌉
reads aloud
‘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 LORD DUMAINE Ay, madam,
And for the contents’ sake are sorry for our pains.
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?
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?
FIRST LORD DUMAINE
Ay, madam.
COUNTESS
And to be a soldier?
FIRST LORD DUMAINE
Such is his noble purpose, and—believe’t—
The Duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good convenience claims.
The Duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good convenience claims.
COUNTESS
Return you thither?
SECOND LORD DUMAINE
Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
HELEN ‘Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.’
’Tis bitter. 75
COUNTESS Find you that there?
HELEN Ay, madam.
SECOND LORD DUMAINE
’Tis but the boldness of his hand,
Haply, which his heart was not consenting to.
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?
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?
SECOND LORD DUMAINE
A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have sometime known.
Which I have sometime known.
COUNTESS Paroles, was it not?
SECOND LORD DUMAINE Ay, my good lady, he.
COUNTESS
A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
My son corrupts a well-derivèd nature
With his inducement.
My son corrupts a well-derivèd nature
With his inducement.
SECOND LORD DUMAINE Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that too much,
Which holds him much to have.
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.
To tell him that his sword can never win
The honour that he loses. More I’ll entreat you
Written to bear along.
FIRST LORD DUMAINE We serve you, madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs.
COUNTESS
Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near?
Will you draw near?
Exeunt all but Helen
HELEN ‘Till I have no wife I have nothing in France.’
Nothing in France until he has no wife.
Thou shalt have none, Roussillon, 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, cleave the still-piecing 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 roared
With sharp constraint of hunger; better ’twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roussillon,
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
Thou shalt have none, Roussillon, 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, cleave the still-piecing 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 roared
With sharp constraint of hunger; better ’twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Roussillon,
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
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