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Love make your Fortunes twenty times above
2 Lord. No better, if
Hel. My with receive,
leave. Laf. Do all they deny her? And they were Sons of mine, I'd have them whip’d, or I would send them to th' Turk to make Eunuchs of.
Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand should take,
Laf. These Boys are Boys of Ice, they'll none of her: Sure they are Bastards to the English, the French ne'er got 'em.
Hela You are too young, too happy, and too good To make your self a Son out of my Blood.
4 Lord. Fair one, I think not so.
Laf. There's one Grape yet, I am sure my Father drunk Wine; but if thou be'st not an Ass, I am a Youth of fourteer: I have known thee already.
Hel. I dare not say I take you, but I give Me and my Service, ever whilst i live, Into your guiding Power : This is the Man. [To Bertram.
King. Why then young Bertram take her, the's thy Wife,
Ber. My Wife, my Liege? I shall beseech your Highness, In such a Business, give me leave to use The help of mine own Eyes.
King. Know'st thou not, Bertram, what she hath done for me?
Ber. Yes, my good Lord, but never hope to know why 1-should marry her.
King. Thou know'st she has rais'd me from my sickly Bedi
Bar. But follows it, my Lord, to bring me down
King. 'Tis only Title thou disdain'st in her, the which
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
King. Thou wrong'st thy self, if thou should'At strive to chuse.
Hel. That you are well restor’d, my Lord, I'm glad: Let the rest go.
King. My Honours at the stake, which to defeat
Believe not thy Disdain, but presently
Ber. Pardon, my gracious Lord; for I submit
King. Take her by the hand.
Ber. I take her hand.
King. Good Fortune, and the Favour of the King
Manent Parolles and Lafeu.
Laf. Your Lord and Master did well to make his Recantation.
Par. Recantation? my Lord? my Masters
Par. A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. My Master?
Laf. Are you Companion to the Count Rosfilion ?
Par. You are too old, Sir; let it fatisfie you, you are too old.
Laf. I must tell thee, Sirrah, I write Man; to which title Age cannot bring thee.
Par. What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
Laf. I did think thee for two Ordinaries to be a pretty wise Fellow. If thou didst make tolerable vent of thy Travel, it might pass; yet the Scarfs and the Banners about thee, did manifoldly dissuade me from believing thee a Vessel of too great a Burthen. I have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not : Yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and that thou'rt scarce worth.
Par. Hadst thou not the Privilege of Antiquity upon thee
Laf. Do not plunge thy self too far in Anger, left thou haften thy trial; which is, Lord have Mercy on thee for a Hen; so, my good Window of Lattice, fare thee well, thy Casement I need not open, I look through thee. Give me thy Hand.
Par. My Lord, you give most egregious Indignity.
Laf. Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple.'
Par. Well, I shall be wiser
Laf. Ev’n as soon as thou can'st, for thou hast to pull at a smack a'th' contrary. If ever thou beeft bound in thy Scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy Bondage. I have a desire to hold my Acquaintance with thee, or rather my Knowledge, that I may say in the default, he is a Man I know.
Par. My Lord, "you do me most insupportable Vexation,
Laf. I would it were Hell Pains for thy fake, and my poor doing eternal : For doing I am past, as I will by thee, in what motion Age will give me leave.
[Exit. Par. Well, thou hast a Son shall take this Disgrace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy Lord: Well, I must be patient, there is no fettering of Authority. I'll beat him, by my Life, if I can meet him with any convenience, and he were double and double a Lord. I'll have no more pity of
his Age than I would have of—I'll beat him, and if I could but meet him again.
Enter Lafeu. Laf. Sirrah, your Lord and Master's married, there's News for you: You have a new Mistress.
Par. I most unfeignedly beseech your Lordship to make some Reservation of your Wrongs. He is my good Lord, whom I serve above is my Master.
Laf. Who? God?
Laf. The Devil it is, that's thy. Master. Why dost thou garter up thy Arms a this fashion? Doft make Hose of thy Sleeves? Do other Servants so? Thou wert best set thy lower Part where thy Nose stands. By mine Honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'd beat thee: Methink'st thou art a general Offence, and every Man should beat thee. I think thou wast created for Men to breath themselves up. on thee.
Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my Lord.
Laf. Go to, Sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a Kernel out of a Pomegranat ; you are a Vagabond, and no true Traveller: You are more fawcy with Lords and honourable Personages, than the commission of
Birth and Virtue gives you Heraldry. You are not worth another word, else I'd call you Knave. I leave you. [Exit.
Enter Bertram. Par. Good, very good, it is so then. Good, very good, let it be conceal'd a while.
Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever.
Par. What? what, sweet Heart?
Par. France is a Dog-hole, and it no more merits
Ber. There's Letters from my Mother : What th’import is, I know not yet.
Par. Ay, that would be known: To th' Wars my Boy, to th' Wars,