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Is good, without a name ; vileness is so :
Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't..
to choose. Hel. That you are well restor’d, my lord, I am glad ; Let the rest go.
King. My honour's at the stake ; which to defeat, I must produce my power: Here, take her hand, Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift ; That dost in vile misprision shackle up My love, and her desert ; that canft not dream, We, poizing us in her defective scale, Shall weigh thee to the beam ; that wilt not know, It is in us to plant thine honour, where We please to have it grow : Check thy contempt: Obey our will, which travails in thy good : Believe not thy disdain, but presently Do thine own fortunes that obedient right, Vol. II,
Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims ;
Ber. Pardon, my gracious lord ; for I submit
bid it, I find, that she, which late
King. Take her by the hand,
Ber. I take her hand.
King. Good fortune, and the favour of the king,
[Exeunt King, BERTRAM, HELENA, Lords, and
LAF. Your lord and master did well to make his recantation.
Par. Recantation ? My lord ? my master ?
• Par. A most harsh one, and not to be understood
LAF. Are you companion to the count Rousillon ?
LAF. To what is count's man; count's master is of another style.
Par. You are too old, fir ; let it satisfy you, you are too old.
LAF. I must tell thee, firrah, 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; thou didît make tolerable vent of thy travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs, and the bannerets, about thee, did manifoldly dissuade me from believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now found
when I lose thee again, I care not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and that thou art scarce worth.
Par. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,
LAF. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, left thou haften thy trial; which if-Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, for I look through thee. Give me thy hand.
Par. My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
LAF. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple.
Par. Well, I shall be wiser.
at a smack o’the contrary. If ever thou be'st 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 paft; as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave. [Exit.
Par. Well, thou hast a fon shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord !-Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any convenience, an he were double and double a lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I would have of—I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again.
Re-enter Lareu. 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 fome reservation of your wrongs : He is my good lord : whom I serve above, is my master.
LAF. Who? God?
Lar. The devil it is, that's thy master. Why doft thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion doft make hose of thy sleeves ? do other servants fo? 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: methinks, thou art a general offence, and every man should beat thee. I think, thou wast created for men to breathe themselves
thee. Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
Lar. Go to, fir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a pomegranate ; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller : you are more faucy with lords, and honourable personages, than the heraldry of your
birth and virtue gives you commission. You are not worth another word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you. [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!
Ber. Although before the folemn priest I have sworn, I will not bed her.
PAR. What? what, sweet heart?
Ber. O my Parolles, they have married me :I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
Par. France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits The tread of a man's foot: to the wars!
Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the importis,
boy, to the wars!
Ber. It shall be so; I'll send her to my house,