READ STUDY GUIDE: Act II, Scenes i-iii |
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Act II, Scene iii:
Paris. The KING'S palace.
Paris. The KING'S palace.
| [Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES.] |
| LAFEU: |
| They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical |
| persons to make modern and familiar things supernatural and |
| causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors, |
| ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge when we should submit |
| ourselves to an unknown fear. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot out in our |
| latter times. |
| BERTRAM: |
| And so 'tis. |
| LAFEU: |
| To be relinquish'd of the artists,— |
| PAROLLES: |
| So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus. |
| LAFEU: |
| Of all the learned and authentic fellows,— |
| PAROLLES: |
| Right; so I say. |
| LAFEU: |
| That gave him out incurable,— |
| PAROLLES: |
| Why, there 'tis; so say I too. |
| LAFEU: |
| Not to be helped,— |
| PAROLLES: |
| Right; as 'twere a man assured of a,— |
| LAFEU: |
| Uncertain life and sure death. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Just; you say well: so would I have said. |
| LAFEU: |
| I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. |
| PAROLLES: |
| It is indeed: if you will have it in showing, you shall read it |
| in,—What do you call there?— |
| LAFEU: |
| A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. |
| PAROLLES: |
| That's it; I would have said the very same. |
| LAFEU: |
| Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, I speak in |
| respect,— |
| PAROLLES: |
| Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange; that is the brief and the |
| tedious of it; and he's of a most facinerious spirit that will |
| not acknowledge it to be the,— |
| LAFEU: |
| Very hand of heaven. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Ay; so I say. |
| LAFEU: |
| In a most weak,— |
| PAROLLES: |
| And debile minister, great power, great transcendence: which |
| should, indeed, give us a further use to be made than alone |
| the recov'ry of the king, as to be,— |
| LAFEU: |
| Generally thankful. |
| PAROLLES: |
| I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. |
| [Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants.] |
| LAFEU: |
| Lustic, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the better, whilst |
| I have a tooth in my head: why, he's able to lead her a coranto. |
| PAROLLES: |
| 'Mort du vinaigre!' is not this Helen? |
| LAFEU: |
| 'Fore God, I think so. |
| KING: |
| Go, call before me all the lords in court.— |
| [Exit an Attendant.] |
| Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; |
| And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense |
| Thou has repeal'd, a second time receive |
| The confirmation of my promis'd gift, |
| Which but attends thy naming. |
| [Enter severaol Lords.] |
| Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel |
| Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, |
| O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice |
| I have to use: thy frank election make; |
| Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake. |
| HELENA: |
| To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress |
| Fall, when love please!—marry, to each, but one! |
| LAFEU: |
| I'd give bay Curtal and his furniture, |
| My mouth no more were broken than these boys', |
| And writ as little beard. |
| KING: |
| Peruse them well: |
| Not one of those but had a noble father. |
| HELENA: |
| Gentlemen, |
| Heaven hath through me restor'd the king to health. |
| ALL: |
| We understand it, and thank heaven for you. |
| HELENA: |
| I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest |
| That I protest I simply am a maid.— |
| Please it, your majesty, I have done already: |
| The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me— |
| 'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refus'd, |
| Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; |
| We'll ne'er come there again.' |
| KING: |
| Make choice; and, see: |
| Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me. |
| HELENA: |
| Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, |
| And to imperial Love, that god most high, |
| Do my sighs stream.—Sir, will you hear my suit? |
| FIRST LORD: |
| And grant it. |
| HELENA: |
| Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. |
| LAFEU: |
| I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace for my life. |
| HELENA: |
| The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, |
| Before I speak, too threateningly replies: |
| Love make your fortunes twenty times above |
| Her that so wishes, and her humble love! |
| SECOND LORD: |
| No better, if you please. |
| HELENA: |
| My wish receive, |
| Which great Love grant; and so I take my leave. |
| LAFEU: |
| Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine I'd have them |
| whipped; or I would send them to the Turk to make eunuchs of. |
| HELENA: |
| [To third Lord.] Be not afraid that I your hand should take; |
| I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: |
| Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed |
| Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed! |
| LAFEU: |
| These boys are boys of ice: they'll none have her: |
| Sure, they are bastards to the English; the French ne'er got 'em. |
| HELENA: |
| You are too young, too happy, and too good, |
| To make yourself a son out of my blood. |
| FOURTH LORD: |
| Fair one, I think not so. |
| LAFEU: |
| There's one grape yet,—I am sure thy father drank wine.—But |
| if thou beest not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known |
| thee already. |
| HELENA: |
| [To BERTRAM.] I dare not say I take you; but I give |
| Me and my service, ever whilst I live, |
| Into your guiding power.—This is the man. |
| KING: |
| Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife. |
| BERTRAM: |
| My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, |
| In such a business give me leave to use |
| The help of mine own eyes. |
| KING: |
| Know'st thou not, Bertram, |
| What she has done for me? |
| BERTRAM: |
| Yes, my good lord; |
| But never hope to know why I should marry her. |
| KING: |
| Thou know'st she has rais'd me from my sickly bed. |
| BERTRAM: |
| But follows it, my lord, to bring me down |
| Must answer for your raising? I know her well; |
| She had her breeding at my father's charge: |
| A poor physician's daughter my wife!—Disdain |
| Rather corrupt me ever! |
| KING: |
| 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which |
| I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, |
| Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, |
| Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off |
| In differences so mighty. If she be |
| All that is virtuous,—save what thou dislik'st, |
| A poor physician's daughter,—thou dislik'st |
| Of virtue for the name: but do not so: |
| From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, |
| The place is dignified by the doer's deed: |
| Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, |
| It is a dropsied honour: good alone |
| Is good without a name; vileness is so: |
| The property by what it is should go, |
| Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; |
| In these to nature she's immediate heir; |
| And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn |
| Which challenges itself as honour's born, |
| And is not like the sire: honours thrive |
| When rather from our acts we them derive |
| Than our fore-goers: the mere word's a slave, |
| Debauch'd on every tomb; on every grave |
| A lying trophy; and as oft is dumb |
| Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb |
| Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? |
| If thou canst like this creature as a maid, |
| I can create the rest: virtue and she |
| Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. |
| BERTRAM: |
| I cannot love her, nor will strive to do 't. |
| KING: |
| Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose. |
| HELENA: |
| 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 canst not dream |
| We, poising 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 |
| Which both thy duty owes and our power claims |
| Or I will throw thee from my care for ever, |
| Into the staggers and the careless lapse |
| Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate |
| Loosing upon thee in the name of justice, |
| Without all terms of pity. Speak! thine answer! |
| BERTRAM: |
| Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit |
| My fancy to your eyes: when I consider |
| What great creation, and what dole of honour |
| Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late |
| Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now |
| The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, |
| Is as 'twere born so. |
| KING: |
| Take her by the hand, |
| And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise |
| A counterpoise; if not to thy estate, |
| A balance more replete. |
| BERTRAM: |
| I take her hand. |
| KING: |
| Good fortune and the favour of the king |
| Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony |
| Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, |
| And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast |
| Shall more attend upon the coming space, |
| Expecting absent friends. As thou lov'st her, |
| Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. |
| [Exeunt KING, BERTAM, HELENA, Lords, and Attendants.] |
| LAFEU: |
| Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Your pleasure, sir? |
| LAFEU: |
| Your lord and master did well to make his recantation. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Recantation!—my lord! my master! |
| LAFEU: |
| Ay; is it not a language I speak? |
| PAROLLES: |
| A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody |
| succeeding. My master! |
| LAFEU: |
| Are you companion to the Count Rousillon? |
| PAROLLES: |
| To any count; to all counts; to what is man. |
| LAFEU: |
| To what is count's man: count's master is of another style. |
| PAROLLES: |
| You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. |
| LAFEU: |
| I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which title age cannot |
| bring thee. |
| PAROLLES: |
| What I dare too well do, I dare not do. |
| LAFEU: |
| I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise |
| fellow; thou didst 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 thee; when I lose thee again I care not: yet art |
| thou good for nothing but taking up; and that thou art scarce |
| worth. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,— |
| LAFEU: |
| Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten 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. |
| PAROLLES: |
| My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. |
| LAFEU: |
| Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. |
| PAROLLES: |
| I have not, my lord, deserved it. |
| LAFEU: |
| Yes, good faith, every dram of it: and I will not bate thee |
| a scruple. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Well, I shall be wiser. |
| LAFEU: |
| E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack |
| o' th' contrary. If ever thou beest 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. |
| PAROLLES: |
| My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. |
| LAFEU: |
| I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor doing |
| eternal: for doing I am past; as I will by thee, in what motion |
| age will give me leave. |
| [Exit.] |
| PAROLLES: |
| Well, thou hast a son 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 LAFEU.] |
| LAFEU: |
| Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news for you; you |
| have a new mistress. |
| PAROLLES: |
| I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation |
| of your wrongs: he is my good lord: whom I serve above is my |
| master. |
| LAFEU: |
| Who? God? |
| PAROLLES: |
| Ay, sir. |
| LAFEU: |
| The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy |
| arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of thy sleeves? do other |
| servants so? 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: methink'st thou art a general offence, and every man should |
| beat thee. I think thou wast created for men to breathe |
| themselves upon thee. |
| PAROLLES: |
| This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. |
| LAFEU: |
| 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 saucy 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.] |
| PAROLLES: |
| Good, very good, it is so then.—Good, very good; let it |
| be concealed awhile. |
| [Enter BERTRAM.] |
| BERTRAM: |
| Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! |
| PAROLLES: |
| What's the matter, sweet heart? |
| BERTRAM: |
| Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, |
| I will not bed her. |
| PAROLLES: |
| What, what, sweet heart? |
| BERTRAM: |
| O my Parolles, they have married me!— |
| I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. |
| PAROLLES: |
| France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits |
| The tread of a man's foot:—to the wars! |
| BERTRAM: |
| There's letters from my mother; what the import is |
| I know not yet. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars! |
| He wears his honour in a box unseen |
| That hugs his kicksy-wicksy here at home, |
| Spending his manly marrow in her arms, |
| Which should sustain the bound and high curvet |
| Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions! |
| France is a stable; we that dwell in't, jades; |
| Therefore, to the war! |
| BERTRAM: |
| It shall be so; I'll send her to my house, |
| Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, |
| And wherefore I am fled; write to the king |
| That which I durst not speak: his present gift |
| Shall furnish me to those Italian fields |
| Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife |
| To the dark house and the detested wife. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Will this caprichio hold in thee, art sure? |
| BERTRAM: |
| Go with me to my chamber and advise me. |
| I'll send her straight away: to-morrow |
| I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. |
| PAROLLES: |
| Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard: |
| A young man married is a man that's marr'd: |
| Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: |
| The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so. |
| [Exeunt.] |
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