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And these breed honour: That is honour's fcorn,
I can create the rest: virtue and she,
Is her own dow'r; honour and wealth from me.
King. Thou wrong'ft thyself, if thou should'st strive: to chufe.
Hel. That you are well reftor'd, my lord, I'm glad : Let the reft go..
King. (15) My honour's at the ftake; which to defend,
My love, and her desert; that canst not dream,
Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know,
Where Duft and damn'd Oblivion is the Tomb.
Of bonour'd Bones, indeed, what should be faid?] This is fuch pretty Stuff, indeed, as is only worthy of its accurate Editors! The Transposition of an innocent Stop, or two, is a Task above their Diligence: efpecially, if common Senfe is to be the Result of it. The Regulation, I have given, must ftrike every Reader so at first Glance, that it needs not a Word in Confirmation.
which to defeat
(15) My Honour's at the Stake; I must produce my Pow'r.] The poor King of France is again made a Man of Gotham, by our unmerciful Editors: What they make him fay, is mere mock-reasoning: For he is not to make use of his Authority to defeat, but to defend, his Honour.
We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt:
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right,
Of youth and ignorance; my revenge and hate
King. Take her by the hand,
And tell her, fhe is thine: to whom I promise
A balance more repleat.
Ber. I take her hand..
King. Good fortune, and the favour of the King
Manent Parolles and Lafeu.
6 Laf. Do you hear, Monfieur ? a word with you. Par. Your pleasure, Sir?
Laf. Your Lord and Mafter did well to make his recantation,
Par. Recantation ?-my Lord? my Mafter?
without bloody fucceeding. My mafter?
Par. A most harsh one, and not to be underfood
Laf. Are you companion to the Count Roufillon?
Par. To any Count; to all Counts; to what is
Laf. To what is Count's man; Count's mafter is of another ftile.
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 wife fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel; it might pafs; yet the fcarfs and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly diffuade me from believing thee a veffel 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 fcarce worth.
Par. Hadft thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee
Laf. Do not plunge thyfelf too far in anger, left thou haften thy tryal; which if,-Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! fo, my good window of lattice, farethee well; thy cafement I need not open, I look thro thee. Give me thy hand.
Par. My Lord, you give me moft egregious indig nity.
Laf. Ay, with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it.
Par. I have not, my Lord, deferv'd it.
Laf. Yes, good faith, ev'ry dram of it; and. I will not 'bate thee a scruple.
Par. Well, I fhall be wifer
Laf. Ev'n as foon as thou can'ft, for thou haft to pull at a fmack o'th' contrary. If ever thou beeft bound in thy fcarf and beaten, thou fhalt find what it is to be. proud of thy bondage. I have a defire 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 moft infupportable 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.
Par. Well, thou haft a fon fhall take this disgrace off me; fcurvy, old, filthy, fcurvy Lord! well, I muft
be patient, there is no fettering of authority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any conveni ence, an he were double and double a Lord. I'll have no more pity of his age, than I would have of beat him, an if I could but meet him again.
Laf Sirrah, your Lord and Mafter's married, there's news for you: you have a new mistress.
Par. I moft unfeignedly befeech your Lordship to make fome reservation of your wrongs. He, my good Lord, whom I ferve above, is my master.
Laf. Who? God?
Par. Ay, Sir.
Laf. The devil it is, that's thy mafter. Why doft thou garter up thy arms o' this fashion? doft make hofe of thy fleeves? do other fervants fo? thou wert best set thy lower part where thy nose ftands. 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 waft created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.
Par. This is hard and undeferved meafure, my Lord. Laf. Go to, Sir; 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 perfonages, than the commiffion of your birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth ano-. ther word, else I'd call you knave. I leave you.
Per. Good, very good, it is fo 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've sworn,
I will not bed her.
Par. What? what, fweet 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 th' wars.
Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the import is, I know not yet.
Par. Ay, that would be known: boy, to th' wars.
to th' wars, my
He wears his honour in a box, unseen,
Ber. It fhall be fo, I'll fend her to my houfe,
Where noble fellows ftrike. War is no ftrife
Par.. Will this capricio hold in thee, art fure?
I'll to the wars, the to her fingle forrow.
Par. Why, these balls bound, there's noise in it.—
A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd: