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PAR. Ay, and the captain of his horse, count Rousillon.

1 SOLD. I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure.

PAR. [Aside.] I'll no more drumming: a plague of all drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy the count, have I run into this danger. Yet, who would have suspected an ambush where I was taken?

1 SOLD. There is no remedy, sir, but you must die the general says, you, that have so traitorously discovered the secrets of your army, and made such pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can serve the world for no honest use; therefore you must die. Come, headsman, off with his head.

PAR. O Lord, sir; let me live, or let me see my death!

1 SOLD. That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. [Unmufling him. So, look about you; know you any here? BER. Good morrow, noble captain.

2 LORD. God bless you, captain Parolles. 1 LORD. God save you, noble captain.

2 LORD. Captain, what greeting will you to my

lord Lafeu? I am for France.

1 LORD. Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet you writ to Diana in behalf of the count Rousillon? an I were not a very coward, I'd compel it of you; but fare you well.

[Exeunt BERTRAM, Lords, &c. 1 SOLD. You are undone, captain: all but your scarf, that has a knot on't yet.

PAR. Who cannot be crushed with a plot? 1 SOLD. If you could find out a country where but women were that had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare you well, sir; I am for France too; we shall speak of you there. [Exit.

PAR. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,

"Twould burst at this. Captain, I'll be no more; But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft As captain shall: simply the thing I am

Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart

Let him fear this; for it will come to pass,

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HEL. That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you,

One of the greatest in the Christian world Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 't is needful,

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Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel.
Time was, I did him a desired office,
Dear almost as his life; which gratitude
Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth,
And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd,
His grace
is at Marseilles; to which place
We have convenient convoy. You must know,
I am supposed dead: the army breaking,
My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding,
And by the leave of my good lord the king,
We'll be, before our welcome.

WID.

Gentle madam,

You never had a servant, to whose trust Your business was more welcome.

HEL.

Nor you, mistress, Ever a friend, whose thoughts more truly labour To recompense your love; doubt not, but heaven Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, As it hath fated her to be my motive And helper to a husband. But O strange men! That can such sweet use make of what they hate, When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts Defiles the pitchy night, so lust doth play With what it loaths, for that which is away: But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, Under my poor instructions yet must suffer Something in my behalf.

DIA.

Let death and honesty

Go with your impositions, I am yours
Upon your will to suffer.
HEL.

Yet, I pray you

C

(*) Old text, your.

"I only frighten you by mentioning the word suffer: for a short. time will bring on the season of happiness and delight." With much diffidence we venture to suggest that Yet apparently stands for Now; and that we should read,— "Yet, I pay you

But with the word," &c.

Now I can only compensate your kindness by the word of promise; but the time approaches when all that you undergo for my sake shall be substantially requited.

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SCENE V.-Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's Palace.

Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown.

LAF. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipttaffata fellow there, whose villainous saffron would have made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in his colour; your daughter-in-law had beer alive at this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced by the king, than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of.

COUNT. I would I had not known him! it was the death of the most virtuous gentlewoman, that ever nature had praise for creating if she had partaken of my flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I could not have owed her a more rooted love.

LAF. 'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a thousand salads, ere we light on such another herb.

CLO. Indeed, sir, she was the sweet-marjoram of the salad, or, rather the herb of grace.

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& Time revives us:] Johnson suggested invites; Warburton, revies us-an old word signifying challenges, borrowed from the card-table; and Mr. Collier's MS. annotator has reviles. Of these proposals, Warburton's is by far the most plausible. Revives us, however, in the sense of reproaches us, mocks us, may be right. See Middleton's "Michaelmas Term," Act II. Sc. 1:"Thou revivest us, rascal!"

b The fine's the crown ;] The end's the crown :-Finis coronat opus.

e Whose villainous saffron-] This villainous saffron, the com

CLO. Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, serve as great a prince as you are.

LAF. Who's that? a Frenchman?
CLO. Faith, sir, he has an English name,

but

his phisnomy is more hotter in France, than there. LAF. What prince is that?

CLO. The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of darkness; alias, the devil.

e

LAF. Hold thee, there's my purse; I give thee not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; serve him still.

CLO. I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a great fire; and the master I speak of, ever keeps a good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the world; let his nobility remain in his court. I am for the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be too little for pomp to enter: some, that humble themselves, may; but the many will be too chill and tender; and they'll be for the flowery way, that leads to the broad gate, and the great fire.

LAF. Go thy ways, I begin to be a-weary of thee; and I tell thee so before, because I would not fall out with thee. Go thy ways; let my horses be well looked to, without any tricks.

CLO. If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. [Exit.

LAF. A shrewd knave, and an unhappy." COUNT. So he is. My lord, that's gone, made himself much sport out of him; by his authority he remains here, which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness, and, indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will.

LAF. I like him well; 'tis not amiss: and I was about to tell you. Since I heard of the good lady's death, and that my lord your son was upon his return home, I moved the king my master, to speak in the behalf of my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did first propose: his highness hath promised me to do it; and, to stop up the displeasure he hath conceived against your son, there is no fitter matter. How does your ladyship like it?

(*) First folio, maine.

mentators suppose, must be a reference to the fantastic fashion of stiffening and colouring the ruffs and bands with yellow starch. The allusion, we imagine, is rather to that constant subject of obloquy among the old writers,-"the dissembling colour" of the arch-deceiver Judas' hair.

d They are not salad-herbs,-] The old text has "herbs" only: Rowe inserted "salad," which the context appears to require. e To suggest thee-] That is, to seduce thee, to tempt thee.

f But, sure,--] Some commentators would read, since.

g Unhappy.] Waggish, mischievous.

COUNT. With very much content, my lord, and I wish it happily effected.

LAF. His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intelligence hath seldom failed.

COUNT. It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I die. I have letters, that my son will be here to-night: I shall beseech your lordship, to remain with me till they meet together.

LAF. Madam, I was thinking, with what manners I might safely be admitted.

COUNT. You need but plead your honourable privilege.

LAF. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter, but, I thank my God, it holds yet.

Re-enter Clown.

CLO. O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of velvet on's face; whether there be a scar under it, or no, the velvet knows, but 'tis a goodly patch of velvet; his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a half, but his right cheek is worn bare.

LAF. A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour; so, belike, is that.

CLO. But it is your carbonadoed face. LAF. Let us go see your son, I pray you; I long to talk with the young noble soldier.

CLO. 'Faith, there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine hats, and most courteous feathers, which bow the head, and nod at every man. [Exeunt.

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