ter of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. Par. An idle lord, I swear. Ber. I think so. Par. Why, do you not know him? [Exit. Ber. Yes, I do know him well; and common speech Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. Enter HELENA. Hel. I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, Spoke with the king, and have procur'd his leave For present parting; only, he desires Some private speech with you. Ber. 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: Prepar'd I was not For such a business; therefore am I found So much unsettled: This drives me to entreat you, [Giving a letter. "Twill be two days ere I shall see you; so I leave you to your wisdom. Hel. Sir, I can nothing say, But that I am your most obedient servant. And ever shall With true observance seek to eke out that, 9- than you have or will deserve—] The oldest copy erroneously reads have or will to deserve. Steevens. Something seems to have been omitted; but I know not how to rectify the passage. Perhaps we should read-than you have qualities or will to deserve. The editor of the second folio reads -than you have or will deserve - Malone. 1 And rather muse, &c.] To muse is to wonder. So, in Macbeth: "Do not muse at me, my most noble friends." Steevens. Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd Ber. Let that go: My haste is very great: Farewel; hie home. Ber. Well, what would you say? Hel. I am not worthy of the wealth I owe;2 But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal Ber. What would you have? Hel. Something; and scarce so much:-nothing, in deed. I would not tell you what I would: my lord-'faith, yes; Strangers, and foes, do sunder, and not kiss. Ber. I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. Go thou toward home; where I will never come, 2 Par. Bravely, coragio! [Exeunt. the wealth I owe;] i. e. I own, possess. Steevens. 3 Where are my other men, monsieur?-Farewel.] In former copies : Hel. Where are my other men? Monsieur, farewel. What other men is Helen here inquiring after? Or who is she supposed to ask for them? The old Countess, 'tis certain, did not send her to the court without some attendants; but neither the Clown, nor any of her retinue, are now upon the stage: Bertram, observing Helen to linger fondly, and wanting to shift her off, puts on a show of haste, asks Parolles for his servants, and then gives his wife an abrupt dismission. Theobald. ACT III.....SCENE I. Florence. A Room in the Duke's Palace. Flourish. Enter the Duke of Florence, attended; two 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, 1 Lord. Holy seems the quarrel Upon your grace's part; black and fearful On the opposer. Duke. Therefore we marvel much, our cousin France Would, in so just a business, shut his bosom Against our borrowing prayers. 2 Lord. Good my lord, 4 The reasons of our state I cannot yield, therefore dare not Be it his pleasure. 2 Lord. But I am sure, the younger of our nature,7 That surfeit on their ease, will, day by day, - I cannot yield,] I cannot inform you of the reasons. Thus, in Antony and Cleopatra: 5 Johnson. "If thou say so, villain, thou kill'st thy mistress: "If thou so yield him, there is gold." Steevens. an outward man,] i. e. one not in the secret of affairs. Warburton. So, inward, is familiar, admitted to secrets. "I was an inward of his." Measure for Measure. Johnson. 6 By self-unable motion:] We should read notion. Warburton. This emendation has also been recommended by Mr. Upton. 7 Steevens. the younger of our nature,] i. e. as we say at present, our young fellows. The modern editors read-nation. I have restored the old reading. Steevens. Come here for physick. Duke. Welcome shall they be; And all the honours, that can fly from us, Shall on them settle. You know your places well; To-morrow to the field. [Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE II. Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's Palace. Enter Countess and Clown. Count. It hath happened all as I would have had it, save, that he comes not along with her. Clo. By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very melancholy man. Count. By what observance, I pray you? Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing; mend the ruff, and sing; 8 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.9 Count. Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. [Opening a letter. Clo. 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. Count. What have we here? Clo. E'en that' you have there. [Exit. 8 Clo. Why, he will look upon his boot, and sing; mend the ruff, and sing;] The tops of the boots, in our author's time, turned down, and hung loosely over the leg. The folding is what the Clown means by the ruff. Ben Jonson calls it ruffle; and perhaps it should be so here. "Not having leisure to put off my silver spurs, one of the rowels catch'd hold of the ruffle of my boot." Every Man out of his Humour, Act IV, sc. vi. Whalley. To this fashion Bishop Earle alludes in his Characters, 1638, sign. E 10: "He has learnt to ruffle his face from his boote; and takes great delight in his walk to heare his spurs gingle." 9 Malone. sold a goodly manor for a song.] Thus the modern ediThe old copy reads-hold a goodly &c. The emendation, however, which was made in the third folio, seems necessary tors. Stee she Count. [reads] I have sent you a daughter-in-law; 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, This is not well, rash and unbridled boy, Re-enter Clown. BERTRAM. Clo. O madam, yonder is heavy news within, between two soldiers and my young lady. Count. What is the matter? Clo. Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I thought he would. Count. Why should he be kill'd? Clo. 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. Enter HELENA and two Gentlemen. 1 Gen. Save you, good madam. [Exit Clo. Hel. Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. 2 Gen. Do not say so. Count. 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 me2 unto 't: Where is my son, I pray you? 2 Gen. Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Flo rence: We met him thitherward; for thence we came, 1 Clo. E'en that-] Old copy-In that, Corrected by Mr. Theobald. Malone. 2 Can woman me-] i. e. affect me suddenly and deeply, as my sex are usually affected. Steevens. |