SCENE II
Rousillon. The COUNT’s palace.
[Enter COUNTESS and Clown]
COUNTESS
It hath happened all as I would have had it, save that he comes not along with her.
It hath happened all as I would have had it, save that he comes not along with her.
Clown
By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man.
By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man.
COUNTESS
By what observance, I pray you?
By what observance, I pray you?
Clown
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.
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.
Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come.
[Opening a letter]
Clown
I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our old ling and our Isbels o’ the country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o’ the court: the brains of my Cupid’s knocked out, and I begin to love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach.
I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our old ling and our Isbels o’ the country are nothing like your old ling and your Isbels o’ the 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?
What have we here?
Clown
E’en that you have there.
E’en that you have there.
[Exit]
COUNTESS
| [Reads] | 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 misprising of a maid too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.
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 misprising of a maid too virtuous
For the contempt of empire.
[Re-enter Clown]
Clown
O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two soldiers and my young lady!
O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two soldiers and my young lady!
COUNTESS
What is the matter?
What is the matter?
Clown
Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would.
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?
Why should he be killed?
Clown
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 hear your son was run away.
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 hear your son was run away.
[Exit]
[Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen]
First Gentleman
Save you, good madam.
Save you, good madam.
HELENA
Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone.
Second Gentleman
Do not say so.
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?
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, 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.
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.
HELENA
Look on his letter, madam; here’s my passport.
Look on his letter, madam; here’s 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’ I write a ’never.’ This is a dreadful sentence.
COUNTESS
Brought you this letter, gentlemen?
Brought you this letter, gentlemen?
First Gentleman
Ay, madam;
And for the contents’ sake are sorry for our pain.
Ay, madam;
And for the contents’ sake are sorry for our pain.
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?
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?
Second Gentleman
Ay, madam.
Ay, madam.
COUNTESS
| And to be a soldier? |
Second Gentleman
Such is his noble purpose; and believe ’t,
The duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good convenience claims.
Such is his noble purpose; and believe ’t,
The duke will lay upon him all the honour
That good convenience claims.
COUNTESS
Return you thither?
Return you thither?
First Gentleman
Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.
HELENA
’Tis bitter.
| [Reads] | Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. |
COUNTESS
| Find you that there? |
HELENA
Ay, madam.
Ay, madam.
First Gentleman
’Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his heart was not consenting to.
’Tis but the boldness of his hand, 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?
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?
First Gentleman
A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have sometime known.
A servant only, and a gentleman
Which I have sometime known.
COUNTESS
Parolles, was it not?
Parolles, was it not?
First Gentleman
Ay, my good lady, he.
Ay, my good lady, he.
COUNTESS
A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
My son corrupts a well-derived nature
With his inducement.
A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.
My son corrupts 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.
Indeed, good lady,
The fellow has a deal of that too much,
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.
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.
Second Gentleman
We serve you, madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs.
We serve you, madam,
In that and all your worthiest affairs.
COUNTESS
Not so, but as we change our courtesies.
Will you draw near!
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, Rousillon, 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; 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 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 roar’d
With sharp constraint of hunger; better ’twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon,
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:
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.
’Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.’
Nothing in France, until he has no wife!
Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, 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; 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 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 roar’d
With sharp constraint of hunger; better ’twere
That all the miseries which nature owes
Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon,
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 |
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]
