Int. Boskos vauvado, I vnderstand thee, & can speake thy tongue: Kerelybonto sir, betake thee to thy faith, for seuenteene ponyards are at thy bosome
Par. Oh
Inter. Oh pray, pray, pray,Manka reuania dulche
Lo.E. Oscorbidulchos voliuorco
Int. The Generall is content to spare thee yet,And hoodwinkt as thou art, will leade thee onTo gather from thee. Haply thou mayst informeSomething to saue thy life
Par. O let me liue,And all the secrets of our campe Ile shew,Their force, their purposes: Nay, Ile speake that,Which you will wonder at
Inter. But wilt thou faithfully?Par. If I do not, damne me
Inter. Acordo linta.Come on, thou are granted space.
Exit
A short Alarum within.
L.E. Go tell the Count Rossillion and my brother,We haue caught the woodcocke, and will keepe him mufledTill we do heare from them
Sol. Captaine I will
L.E. A will betray vs all vnto our selues,Informe on that
Sol. So I will sir
L.E. Till then Ile keepe him darke and safely lockt.
Exit
Enter Bertram, and the Maide called Diana.
Ber. They told me that your name was Fontybell
Dia. No my good Lord, Diana
Ber. Titled Goddesse,And worth it with addition: but faire soule,In your fine frame hath loue no qualitie?If the quicke fire of youth light not your minde,You are no Maiden but a monumentWhen you are dead you should be such a oneAs you are now: for you are cold and sterne,And now you should be as your mother wasWhen your sweet selfe was got
Dia. She then was honest
Ber. So should you be
Dia. No:My mother did but dutie, such (my Lord)As you owe to your wife
Ber. No more a'that:I prethee do not striue against my vowes:I was compell'd to her, but I loue theeBy loues owne sweet constraint, and will for euerDo thee all rights of seruice
Dia. I so you serue vsTill we serue you: But when you haue our Roses,You barely leaue our thornes to pricke our selues,And mocke vs with our barenesse
Ber. How haue I sworne
Dia. Tis not the many oathes that makes the truth,But the plaine single vow, that is vow'd true:What is not holie, that we sweare not by,But take the high'st to witnesse: then pray you tell me,If I should sweare by Ioues great attributes,I lou'd you deerely, would you beleeue my oathes,When I did loue you ill? This ha's no holdingTo sweare by him whom I protest to loueThat I will worke against him. Therefore your oathesAre words and poore conditions, but vnseal'dAt lest in my opinion
Ber. Change it, change it:Be not so holy cruell: Loue is holie,And my integritie ne're knew the craftsThat you do charge men with: Stand no more off,But giue thy selfe vnto my sicke desires,Who then recouers. Say thou art mine, and euerMy loue as it beginnes, shall so perseuer
Dia. I see that men make rope's in such a scarre,That wee'l forsake our selues. Giue me that Ring
Ber. Ile lend it thee my deere; but haue no powerTo giue it from me
Dia. Will you not my Lord?Ber. It is an honour longing to our house,Bequeathed downe from manie Ancestors,Which were the greatest obloquie i'th world,In me to loose
Dian. Mine Honors such a Ring,My chastities the Iewell of our house,Bequeathed downe from many Ancestors,Which were the greatest obloquie i'th world,In mee to loose. Thus your owne proper wisedomeBrings in the Champion honor on my part,Against your vaine assault
Ber. Heere, take my Ring,My house, mine honor, yea my life be thine,And Ile be bid by thee
Dia. When midnight comes, knocke at my chamberwindow:Ile order take, my mother shall not heare.Now will I charge you in the band of truth,When you haue conquer'd my yet maiden-bed,Remaine there but an houre, nor speake to mee:My reasons are most strong, and you shall know them,When backe againe this Ring shall be deliuer'd:And on your finger in the night, Ile putAnother Ring, that what in time proceeds,May token to the future, our past deeds.Adieu till then, then faile not: you haue wonneA wife of me, though there my hope be done
Ber. A heauen on earth I haue won by wooing thee
Di. For which, liue long to thank both heauen & me,You may so in the end.My mother told me iust how he would woo,As if she sate in's heart. She sayes, all menHaue the like oathes: He had sworne to marrie meWhen his wife's dead: therfore Ile lye with himWhen I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braide,Marry that will, I liue and die a Maid:Onely in this disguise, I think't no sinne,To cosen him that would vniustly winne.
Exit
Enter the two French Captaines, and some two or three Souldiours.
Cap.G. You haue not giuen him his mothers letter
Cap.E. I haue deliu'red it an houre since, there is som thing in't that stings his nature: for on the reading it, he chang'd almost into another man
Cap.G. He has much worthy blame laid vpon him, for shaking off so good a wife, and so sweet a Lady
Cap.E. Especially, hee hath incurred the euerlasting displeasure of the King, who had euen tun'd his bounty to sing happinesse to him. I will tell you a thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you
Cap.G. When you haue spoken it 'tis dead, and I am the graue of it
Cap.E. Hee hath peruerted a young Gentlewoman heere in Florence, of a most chaste renown, & this night he fleshes his will in the spoyle of her honour: hee hath giuen her his monumentall Ring, and thinkes himselfe made in the vnchaste composition
Cap.G. Now God delay our rebellion as we are our selues, what things are we
Cap.E. Meerely our owne traitours. And as in the common course of all treasons, we still see them reueale themselues, till they attaine to their abhorr'd ends: so he that in this action contriues against his owne Nobility in his proper streame, ore-flowes himselfe
Cap.G. Is it not meant damnable in vs, to be Trumpeters of our vnlawfull intents? We shall not then haue his company to night? Cap.E. Not till after midnight: for hee is dieted to his houre
Cap.G. That approaches apace: I would gladly haue him see his company anathomiz'd, that hee might take a measure of his owne iudgements, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit
Cap.E. We will not meddle with him till he come;for his presence must be the whip of the other
Cap.G. In the meane time, what heare you of theseWarres?Cap.E. I heare there is an ouerture of peace
Cap.G. Nay, I assure you a peace concluded
Cap.E. What will Count Rossillion do then? Will hetrauaile higher, or returne againe into France?Cap.G. I perceiue by this demand, you are not altogetherof his councell
Cap.E. Let it be forbid sir, so should I bee a greatdeale of his act
Cap.G. Sir, his wife some two months since fledde from his house, her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Iaques le grand; which holy vndertaking, with most austere sanctimonie she accomplisht: and there residing, the tendernesse of her Nature, became as a prey to her greefe: in fine, made a groane of her last breath, & now she sings in heauen
Cap.E. How is this iustified? Cap.G. The stronger part of it by her owne Letters, which makes her storie true, euen to the poynt of her death: her death it selfe, which could not be her office to say, is come: was faithfully confirm'd by the Rector of the place
Cap.E. Hath the Count all this intelligence?Cap.G. I, and the particular confirmations, pointfrom point, to the full arming of the veritie
Cap.E. I am heartily sorrie that hee'l bee gladde ofthis
Cap.G. How mightily sometimes, we make vs comfortsof our losses
Cap.E. And how mightily some other times, wee drowne our gaine in teares, the great dignitie that his valour hath here acquir'd for him, shall at home be encountred with a shame as ample
Cap.G. The webbe of our life, is of a mingled yarne, good and ill together: our vertues would bee proud, if our faults whipt them not, and our crimes would dispaire if they were not cherish'd by our vertues. Enter a Messenger.
How now? Where's your master? Ser. He met the Duke in the street sir, of whom hee hath taken a solemne leaue: his Lordshippe will next morning for France. The Duke hath offered him Letters of commendations to the King
Cap.E. They shall bee no more then needfull there, if they were more then they can commend. Enter Count Rossillion.
Ber. They cannot be too sweete for the Kings tartnesse, heere's his Lordship now. How now my Lord, i'st not after midnight? Ber. I haue to night dispatch'd sixteene businesses, a moneths length a peece, by an abstract of successe: I haue congied with the Duke, done my adieu with his neerest; buried a wife, mourn'd for her, writ to my Ladie mother, I am returning, entertain'd my Conuoy, & betweene these maine parcels of dispatch, affected many nicer needs: the last was the greatest, but that I haue not ended yet
Cap.E. If the businesse bee of any difficulty, and this morning your departure hence, it requires hast of your Lordship
Ber. I meane the businesse is not ended, as fearing to heare of it hereafter: but shall we haue this dialogue betweene the Foole and the Soldiour. Come, bring forth this counterfet module, ha's deceiu'd mee, like a double-meaning Prophesier
Cap.E. Bring him forth, ha's sate i'th stockes all night poore gallant knaue
Ber. No matter, his heeles haue deseru'd it, in vsurping his spurres so long. How does he carry himselfe? Cap.E. I haue told your Lordship alreadie: The stockes carrie him. But to answer you as you would be vnderstood, hee weepes like a wench that had shed her milke, he hath confest himselfe to Morgan, whom hee supposes to be a Friar, fro[m] the time of his remembrance to this very instant disaster of his setting i'th stockes: and what thinke you he hath confest? Ber. Nothing of me, ha's a? Cap.E. His confession is taken, and it shall bee read to his face, if your Lordshippe be in't, as I beleeue you are, you must haue the patience to heare it. Enter Parolles with his Interpreter.
Ber. A plague vpon him, muffeld; he can say nothing of me: hush, hush
Cap.G. Hoodman comes: Portotartarossa
Inter. He calles for the tortures, what will you saywithout em
Par. I will confesse what I know without constraint,If ye pinch me like a Pasty, I can say no more
Int. Bosko Chimurcho
Cap. Boblibindo chicurmurco
Int. You are a mercifull Generall: Our Generall bids you answer to what I shall aske you out of a Note
Par. And truly, as I hope to liue
Int. First demand of him, how many horse the Duke is strong. What say you to that? Par. Fiue or sixe thousand, but very weake and vnseruiceable: the troopes are all scattered, and the Commanders verie poore rogues, vpon my reputation and credit, and as I hope to liue
Int. Shall I set downe your answer so?Par. Do, Ile take the Sacrament on't, how & whichway you will: all's one to him
Ber. What a past-sauing slaue is this? Cap.G. Y'are deceiu'd my Lord, this is Mounsieur Parrolles the gallant militarist, that was his owne phrase that had the whole theoricke of warre in the knot of his scarfe, and the practise in the chape of his dagger
Cap.E. I will neuer trust a man againe, for keeping his sword cleane, nor beleeue he can haue euerie thing in him, by wearing his apparrell neatly
Int. Well, that's set downe
Par. Fiue or six thousand horse I sed, I will say true, or thereabouts set downe, for Ile speake truth
Cap.G. He's very neere the truth in this
Ber. But I con him no thankes for't in the nature he deliuers it
Par. Poore rogues, I pray you say
Int. Well, that's set downe
Par. I humbly thanke you sir, a truth's a truth, theRogues are maruailous poore
Interp. Demaund of him of what strength they are a foot. What say you to that? Par. By my troth sir, if I were to liue this present houre, I will tell true. Let me see, Spurio a hundred & fiftie, Sebastian so many, Corambus so many, Iaques so many: Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowicke, and Gratij, two hundred fiftie each: Mine owne Company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentij, two hundred fiftie each: so that the muster file, rotten and sound, vppon my life amounts not to fifteene thousand pole, halfe of the which, dare not shake the snow from off their Cassockes, least they shake themselues to peeces
Ber. What shall be done to him?Cap.G. Nothing, but let him haue thankes. Demandof him my condition: and what credite I haue with theDuke
Int. Well that's set downe: you shall demaund of him, whether one Captaine Dumaine bee i'th Campe, a Frenchman: what his reputation is with the Duke, what his valour, honestie, and expertnesse in warres: or whether he thinkes it were not possible with well-waighing summes of gold to corrupt him to a reuolt. What say you to this? What do you know of it? Par. I beseech you let me answer to the particular of the intergatories. Demand them singly
Int. Do you know this Captaine Dumaine? Par. I know him, a was a Botchers Prentize in Paris, from whence he was whipt for getting the Shrieues fool with childe, a dumbe innocent that could not say him nay
Ber. Nay, by your leaue hold your hands, though Iknow his braines are forfeite to the next tile that fals
Int. Well, is this Captaine in the Duke of Florencescampe?Par. Vpon my knowledge he is, and lowsie
Cap.G. Nay looke not so vpon me: we shall heare ofyour Lord anon
Int. What is his reputation with the Duke?Par. The Duke knowes him for no other, but a pooreOfficer of mine, and writ to mee this other day, to turnehim 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, andtake 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 thisrime in's forehead
Cap.E. This is your deuoted friend sir, the manifoldLinguist, and the army-potent souldier
Ber. I could endure any thing before but a Cat, andnow he's a Cat to me
Int. I perceiue sir by your Generals lookes, wee shallbe 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 yourfriends: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 LordLafew? 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 softAs Captaine shall. Simply the thing I amShall make me liue: who knowes himselfe a braggartLet him feare this; for it will come to passe,That euery braggart shall be found an Asse.Rust sword, coole blushes, and Parrolles liueSafest 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 notwrong'd you,One of the greatest in the Christian worldShall be my suretie: for whose throne 'tis needfullEre I can perfect mine intents, to kneele.Time was, I did him a desired officeDeere almost as his life, which gratitudeThrough flintie Tartars bosome would peepe forth,And answer thankes. I duly am inform'd,His grace is at Marcellae, to which placeWe haue conuenient conuoy: you must knowI 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 trustYour busines was more welcome
Hel. Nor your MistrisEuer a friend, whose thoughts more truly labourTo recompence your loue: Doubt not but heauenHath brought me vp to be your daughters dower,As it hath fated her to be my motiueAnd 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 thoughtsDefiles the pitchy night, so lust doth playWith what it loathes, for that which is away,But more of this heereafter: you Diana,Vnder my poore instructions yet must sufferSomething in my behalfe
Dia. Let death and honestieGo with your impositions, I am yoursVpon 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 notmuch skill in grace
Laf. Whether doest thou professe thy selfe, a knaueor a foole?Clo. A foole sir at a womans seruice, and a knaue at amans
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 doeher seruice
Laf. I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knaueand foole
Clo. At your seruice
Laf. No, no, no
Clo. Why sir, if I cannot serue you, I can serue asgreat a prince as you are
Laf. Whose that, a Frenchman?Clo. Faith sir a has an English maine, but his fisnomieis 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 beeIades trickes, which are their owne right by the law ofNature.
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, butI 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 falneFrom the report that goes vpon your goodnesse,And therefore goaded with most sharpe occasions,Which lay nice manners by, I put you toThe vse of your owne vertues, for the whichI shall continue thankefull
Gent. What's your will?Hel. That it will please youTo giue this poore petition to the King,And ayde me with that store of power you haueTo 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 hastThen 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 speedeOur meanes will make vs meanes
Gent. This Ile do for you
Hel. And you shall finde your selfe to be well thanktwhat 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 fortunesclose-stoole, to giue to a Nobleman. Looke heere hecomes 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 singleword,Laf. you begge a single peny more: Come you shallha'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 foundmee
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 esteemeWas made much poorer by it: but your sonne,As mad in folly, lack'd the sence to knowHer estimation home
Old La. 'Tis past my Liege,And I beseech your Maiestie to make itNaturall 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 LordDid to his Maiesty, his Mother, and his Ladie,Offence of mighty note; but to himselfeThe greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife,Whose beauty did astonish the surueyOf 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 killAll repetition: Let him not aske our pardon,The nature of his great offence is dead,And deeper then obliuion, we do burieTh' incensing reliques of it. Let him approachA stranger, no offender; and informe himSo '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 haileIn me at once: But to the brightest beamesDistracted clouds giue way, so stand thou forth,The time is faire againe
Ber. My high repented blamesDeere 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 decreesTh' inaudible, and noiselesse foot of timeSteales, ere we can effect them. You rememberThe daughter of this Lord?Ber. Admiringly my Liege, at firstI stucke my choice vpon her, ere my heartDurst 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 proportionsTo 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 eyeThe dust that did offend it
Kin. Well excus'd:That thou didst loue her, strikes some scores awayFrom the great compt: but loue that comes too late,Like a remorsefull pardon slowly carriedTo 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 stayTo 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 nameMust be digested: giue a fauour from youTo 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 deadWas 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 stoodeNecessitied to helpe, that by this tokenI would releeue her. Had you that craft to reaue herOf 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 lifeI haue seene her weare it, and she reckon'd itAt 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 nameOf her that threw it: Noble she was, and thoughtI stood ingag'd, but when I had subscrib'dTo mine owne fortune, and inform'd her fully,I could not answer in that course of HonourAs she had made the ouerture, she ceastIn heauie satisfaction, and would neuerReceiue 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 knowThat you are well acquainted with your selfe,Confesse 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcementYou 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 vsVpon 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 proueThat 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 closeHer 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 fallShall 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 proueThis Ring was euer hers, you shall as easieProue 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 speechOf the poore suppliant, who by this I knowIs heere attending: her businesse lookes in herWith an importing visage, and she told meIn a sweet verball breefe, it did concerneYour 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 toulefor 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 honourBoth 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 marrieYou 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
Ber. My Lord, this is a fond and desp'rate creature,Whom sometime I haue laugh'd with: Let your highnesLay a more noble thought vpon mine honour,Then for to thinke that I would sinke it heere
Kin. Sir for my thoughts, you haue them il to friend,Till your deeds gaine them fairer: proue your honor,Then in my thought it lies
Dian. Good my Lord,Aske him vpon his oath, if hee do's thinkeHe had not my virginity
Kin. What saist thou to her?Ber. She's impudent my Lord,And was a common gamester to the Campe
Dia. He do's me wrong my Lord: If I were so,He might haue bought me at a common price.Do not beleeue him. O behold this Ring,Whose high respect and rich validitieDid lacke a Paralell: yet for all thatHe gaue it to a Commoner a'th CampeIf I be one
Coun. He blushes, and 'tis hit:Of sixe preceding Ancestors that IemmeConfer'd by testament to'th sequent issueHath it beene owed and worne. This is his wife,That Ring's a thousand proofes
King. Me thought you saideYou saw one heere in Court could witnesse it
Dia. I did my Lord, but loath am to produceSo bad an instrument, his names Parrolles
Laf. I saw the man to day, if man he bee
Kin. Finde him, and bring him hether
Ros. What of him:He's quoted for a most perfidious slaueWith all the spots a'th world, taxt and debosh'd,Whose nature sickens: but to speake a truth,Am I, or that or this for what he'l vtter,That will speake any thing
Kin. She hath that Ring of yours
Ros. I thinke she has; certaine it is I lyk'd her,And boorded her i'th wanton way of youth:She knew her distance, and did angle for mee,Madding my eagernesse with her restraint,As all impediments in fancies courseAre motiues of more fancie, and in fine,Her insuite comming with her moderne grace,Subdu'd me to her rate, she got the Ring,And I had that which any inferiour mightAt Market price haue bought
Dia. I must be patient:You that haue turn'd off a first so noble wife,May iustly dyet me. I pray you yet,(Since you lacke vertue, I will loose a husband)Send for your Ring, I will returne it home,And giue me mine againe
Ros. I haue it not
Kin. What Ring was yours I pray you?Dian. Sir much like the same vpon your finger
Kin. Know you this Ring, this Ring was his of late
Dia. And this was it I gaue him being a bed
Kin. The story then goes false, you threw it himOut of a Casement
Dia. I haue spoke the truth.Enter Parolles.
Ros. My Lord, I do confesse the ring was hers
Kin. You boggle shrewdly, euery feather starts you:Is this the man you speake of?Dia. I, my Lord
Kin. Tell me sirrah, but tell me true I charge you, Not fearing the displeasure of your master: Which on your iust proceeding, Ile keepe off, By him and by this woman heere, what know you? Par. So please your Maiesty, my master hath bin an honourable Gentleman. Trickes hee hath had in him, which Gentlemen haue
Kin. Come, come, to'th' purpose: Did hee loue thiswoman?Par. Faith sir he did loue her, but how
Kin. How I pray you?Par. He did loue her sir, as a Gent. loues a Woman
Kin. How is that?Par. He lou'd her sir, and lou'd her not
Kin. As thou art a knaue and no knaue, what an equiuocallCompanion is this?Par. I am a poore man, and at your Maiesties command
Laf. Hee's a good drumme my Lord, but a naughtieOrator
Dian. Do you know he promist me marriage?Par. Faith I know more then Ile speake
Kin. But wilt thou not speake all thou know'st? Par. Yes so please your Maiesty: I did goe betweene them as I said, but more then that he loued her, for indeede he was madde for her, and talkt of Sathan, and of Limbo, and of Furies, and I know not what: yet I was in that credit with them at that time, that I knewe of their going to bed, and of other motions, as promising her marriage, and things which would deriue mee ill will to speake of, therefore I will not speake what I know
Kin. Thou hast spoken all alreadie, vnlesse thou canst say they are maried, but thou art too fine in thy euidence, therefore stand aside. This Ring you say was yours
Dia. I my good Lord
Kin. Where did you buy it? Or who gaue it you?Dia. It was not giuen me, nor I did not buy it
Kin. Who lent it you?Dia. It was not lent me neither
Kin. Where did you finde it then?Dia. I found it not
Kin. If it were yours by none of all these wayes,How could you giue it him?Dia. I neuer gaue it him
Laf. This womans an easie gloue my Lord, she goesoff and on at pleasure
Kin. This Ring was mine, I gaue it his first wife
Dia. It might be yours or hers for ought I know
Kin. Take her away, I do not like her now,To prison with her: and away with him,Vnlesse thou telst me where thou hadst this Ring,Thou diest within this houre
Dia. Ile neuer tell you
Kin. Take her away
Dia. Ile put in baile my liedge
Kin. I thinke thee now some common Customer
Dia. By Ioue if euer I knew man 'twas you
King. Wherefore hast thou accusde him al this while
Dia. Because he's guiltie, and he is not guilty:He knowes I am no Maid, and hee'l sweare too't:Ile sweare I am a Maid, and he knowes not.Great King I am no strumpet, by my life,I am either Maid, or else this old mans wife
Kin. She does abuse our eares, to prison with her
Dia. Good mother fetch my bayle. Stay Royall sir,The Ieweller that owes the Ring is sent for,And he shall surety me. But for this Lord,Who hath abus'd me as he knowes himselfe,Though yet he neuer harm'd me, heere I quit him.He knowes himselfe my bed he hath defil'd,And at that time he got his wife with childe:Dead though she be, she feeles her yong one kicke:So there's my riddle, one that's dead is quicke,And now behold the meaning.Enter Hellen and Widdow.
Kin. Is there no exorcistBeguiles the truer Office of mine eyes?Is't reall that I see?Hel. No my good Lord,'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see,The name, and not the thing
Ros. Both, both, O pardon
Hel. Oh my good Lord, when I was like this Maid,I found you wondrous kinde, there is your Ring,And looke you, heeres your letter: this it sayes,When from my finger you can get this Ring,And is by me with childe, &c. This is done,Will you be mine now you are doubly wonne?Ros. If she my Liege can make me know this clearly,Ile loue her dearely, euer, euer dearly
Hel. If it appeare not plaine, and proue vntrue,Deadly diuorce step betweene me and you.O my deere mother do I see you liuing?Laf. Mine eyes smell Onions, I shall weepe anon:Good Tom Drumme lend me a handkercher.So I thanke thee, waite on me home, Ile make sport withthee: Let thy curtsies alone, they are scuruy ones
King. Let vs from point to point this storie know,To make the euen truth in pleasure flow:If thou beest yet a fresh vncropped flower,Choose thou thy husband, and Ile pay thy dower.For I can guesse, that by thy honest ayde,Thou keptst a wife her selfe, thy selfe a Maide.Of that and all the progresse more and lesse,Resoluedly more leasure shall expresse:All yet seemes well, and if it end so meete,The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet.
Flourish.
The Kings a Begger, now the Play is done,All is well ended, if this suite be wonne,That you expresse Content: which we will pay,With strife to please you, day exceeding day:Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts,Your gentle hands lend vs, and take our hearts.
Exeunt. omn.
FINIS. ALL'S Well, that Ends Well.
Twelfe Night, Or what you will
Actus Primus, Scaena Prima.
Enter Orsino Duke of Illyria, Curio, and other Lords.
Duke. If Musicke be the food of Loue, play on,Giue me excesse of it: that surfetting,The appetite may sicken, and so dye.That straine agen, it had a dying fall:O, it came ore my eare, like the sweet soundThat breathes vpon a banke of Violets;Stealing, and giuing Odour. Enough, no more,'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.O spirit of Loue, how quicke and fresh art thou,That notwithstanding thy capacitie,Receiueth as the Sea. Nought enters there,Of what validity, and pitch so ere,But falles into abatement, and low priceEuen in a minute; so full of shapes is fancie,That it alone, is high fantasticall
Cu. Will you go hunt my Lord?Du. What Curio?Cu. The Hart
Du. Why so I do, the Noblest that I haue:O when mine eyes did see Oliuia first,Me thought she purg'd the ayre of pestilence;That instant was I turn'd into a Hart,And my desires like fell and cruell hounds,Ere since pursue me. How now what newes from her?Enter Valentine.
Val. So please my Lord, I might not be admitted,But from her handmaid do returne this answer:The Element it selfe, till seuen yeares heate,Shall not behold her face at ample view:But like a Cloystresse she will vailed walke,And water once a day her Chamber roundWith eye-offending brine: all this to seasonA brothers dead loue, which she would keepe freshAnd lasting, in her sad remembrance
Du. O she that hath a heart of that fine frameTo pay this debt of loue but to a brother,How will she loue, when the rich golden shaftHath kill'd the flocke of all affections elseThat liue in her. When Liuer, Braine, and Heart,These soueraigne thrones, are all supply'd and fill'dHer sweete perfections with one selfe king:Away before me, to sweet beds of Flowres,Loue-thoughts lye rich, when canopy'd with bowres.
Exeunt.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Viola, a Captaine, and Saylors.
Vio. What Country (Friends) is this?Cap. This is Illyria Ladie
Vio. And what should I do in Illyria?My brother he is in Elizium,Perchance he is not drown'd: What thinke you saylors?Cap. It is perchance that you your selfe were saued
Vio. O my poore brother, and so perchance may he be
Cap. True Madam, and to comfort you with chance,Assure your selfe, after our ship did split,When you, and those poore number saued with you,Hung on our driuing boate: I saw your brotherMost prouident in perill, binde himselfe,(Courage and hope both teaching him the practise)To a strong Maste, that liu'd vpon the sea:Where like Orion on the Dolphines backe,I saw him hold acquaintance with the waues,So long as I could see
Vio. For saying so, there's Gold:Mine owne escape vnfoldeth to my hope,Whereto thy speech serues for authoritieThe like of him. Know'st thou this Countrey?Cap. I Madam well, for I was bred and borneNot three houres trauaile from this very place
Vio. Who gouernes heere?Cap. A noble Duke in nature, as in name
Vio. What is his name?Cap. Orsino
Vio. Orsino: I haue heard my father name him.He was a Batchellor then
Cap. And so is now, or was so very late:For but a month ago I went from hence,And then 'twas fresh in murmure (as you knowWhat great ones do, the lesse will prattle of,)That he did seeke the loue of faire Oliuia
Vio. What's shee?Cap. A vertuous maid, the daughter of a CountThat dide some tweluemonth since, then leauing herIn the protection of his sonne, her brother,Who shortly also dide: for whose deere loue(They say) she hath abiur'd the sightAnd company of men
Vio. O that I seru'd that Lady,And might not be deliuered to the worldTill I had made mine owne occasion mellowWhat my estate is
Cap. That were hard to compasse,Because she will admit no kinde of suite,No, not the Dukes
Vio. There is a faire behauiour in thee Captaine,And though that nature, with a beauteous wallDoth oft close in pollution: yet of theeI will beleeue thou hast a minde that suitesWith this thy faire and outward charracter.I prethee (and Ile pay thee bounteously)Conceale me what I am, and be my ayde,For such disguise as haply shall becomeThe forme of my intent. Ile serue this Duke,Thou shalt present me as an Eunuch to him,It may be worth thy paines: for I can sing,And speake to him in many sorts of Musicke,That will allow me very worth his seruice.What else may hap, to time I will commit,Onely shape thou thy silence to my wit
Cap. Be you his Eunuch, and your Mute Ile bee,When my tongue blabs, then let mine eyes not see
Vio. I thanke thee: Lead me on.
Exeunt.
Scaena Tertia.
Enter Sir Toby, and Maria.
Sir To. What a plague meanes my Neece to take the death of her brother thus? I am sure care's an enemie to life
Mar. By my troth sir Toby, you must come in earlyer a nights: your Cosin, my Lady, takes great exceptions to your ill houres
To. Why let her except, before excepted
Ma. I, but you must confine your selfe within the modest limits of order
To. Confine? Ile confine my selfe no finer then I am: these cloathes are good enough to drinke in, and so bee these boots too: and they be not, let them hang themselues in their owne straps
Ma. That quaffing and drinking will vndoe you: Iheard my Lady talke of it yesterday: and of a foolishknight that you brought in one night here, to be hir woerTo. Who, Sir Andrew Ague-cheeke?Ma. I he
To. He's as tall a man as any's in Illyria
Ma. What's that to th' purpose?To. Why he ha's three thousand ducates a yeare
Ma. I, but hee'l haue but a yeare in all these ducates:He's a very foole, and a prodigall
To. Fie, that you'l say so: he playes o'th Viol-de-gamboys, and speaks three or four languages word for word without booke, & hath all the good gifts of nature
Ma. He hath indeed, almost naturall: for besides that he's a foole, he's a great quarreller: and but that hee hath the gift of a Coward, to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent, he would quickely haue the gift of a graue
Tob. By this hand they are scoundrels and substractorsthat say so of him. Who are they?Ma. They that adde moreour, hee's drunke nightlyin your company
To. With drinking healths to my Neece: Ile drinke to her as long as there is a passage in my throat, & drinke in Illyria: he's a Coward and a Coystrill that will not drinke to my Neece, till his braines turne o'th toe, like a parish top. What wench? Castiliano vulgo: for here coms Sir Andrew Agueface. Enter Sir Andrew.
And. Sir Toby Belch. How now sir Toby Belch?To. Sweet sir Andrew
And. Blesse you faire Shrew
Mar. And you too sir
Tob. Accost Sir Andrew, accost
And. What's that?To. My Neeces Chamber-maid
Ma. Good Mistris accost, I desire better acquaintanceMa. My name is Mary sir
And. Good mistris Mary, accost
To, You mistake knight: Accost, is front her, boordher, woe her, assayle her
And. By my troth I would not vndertake her in thiscompany. Is that the meaning of Accost?Ma. Far you well Gentlemen
To. And thou let part so Sir Andrew, would thoumightst neuer draw sword agen
And. And you part so mistris, I would I might neuerdraw sword agen: Faire Lady, doe you thinke you hauefooles in hand?Ma. Sir, I haue not you by'th hand
An. Marry but you shall haue, and heeres my hand
Ma. Now sir, thought is free: I pray you bring yourhand to'th Buttry barre, and let it drinke
An. Wherefore (sweet-heart?) What's your Metaphor?Ma. It's dry sir
And. Why I thinke so: I am not such an asse, but Ican keepe my hand dry. But what's your iest?Ma. A dry iest Sir
And. Are you full of them?Ma. I Sir, I haue them at my fingers ends: marry nowI let go your hand, I am barren.
Exit Maria
To. O knight, thou lack'st a cup of Canarie: when did I see thee so put downe? An. Neuer in your life I thinke, vnlesse you see Canarie put me downe: mee thinkes sometimes I haue no more wit then a Christian, or an ordinary man ha's: but I am a great eater of beefe, and I beleeue that does harme to my wit
To. No question
An. And I thought that, I'de forsweare it. Ile ride home to morrow sir Toby