LAFEU

You shall find of the King a husband Madame, you sir a father. He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you, whose worthy ness would stir it up where it wanted rather then lack it where there is such abundance. He hath abandoned his Physicians Madam, un der whose practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and finds no other advantage in the process, but only the losing of hope by time. How called you the man you speak of Madam? He was excellent indeed Madam, the King very lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: he was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality. A Fistula my Lord. I would it were not notorious. Was this Gen tlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon? Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. How understand we that? He cannot want the best That shall attend his love. Farewell pretty Lady, you must hold the credit dit of your father. Good faith across, but my good Lord it's thus, Will you be cured of your infirmity? Oh will you eat no grapes my royal fox? Yes but you will, my noble grapes, and if My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine That's able to breath life into a stone, Quicken a rock, and make you dance Canari With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple touch Is powerful to araise King Pippen, nay To give great Charlemagne a pen in's hand And write to her a loue-line. Why doctor she: my Lord, there's one arrived, If you will see her: now by my faith and honour, If seriously I may convey my thoughts In this my light deliverance, I have spoke With one, that in her sex, her years, profession, Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more Then I dare blame my weakness: will you see her? For that is her demand, and know her business? That done, laugh well at me. Nay, I'll fit you, And not be all day neither. Nay, come your ways. Nay, come your ways, This is his Majesty, say your mind to him, A Traitor you do look Like, but such traitors His Majesty seldom fears, I am Cresseds Uncle, That dare leave two together, far you well. Do you hear Monsieur? A word with you. Your Lord and Master did well to make his re cantation. I: Is it not a Language I speak? Are you Companion to the Count Rosillion ? To what is Counts man: Counts master is of another style. I must tell thee sirrah, I write Man: to which title age cannot bring thee. 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 scarffes and the ban nerets about thee, did manifoldly dissuade me from be leeuing 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 the ourt scarce worth. Do not plunge thy self to far in anger, least thou hasten thy trial: which if, Lord have mercy on thee for a hen, so my good window of Lettice fare thee well, thy casement I need not open, for I look through thee. Give me thy hand. I with all my heart, and thou art worthy of it. Yes good faith, every dram of it, and I will not b to thee a scruple. Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack of that contrary. If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shall find what it is to be proud of thy bondage, I have a desire to hold my ac quaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in the default, he is a man I know. I would it were hell pains for thy sake, and my poor doing eternal: for doing I am passed, as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me leave. Sirrah, your Lord and Master's married, there's news for you: you have a new Mistress. Who? God. The devil it is, that's thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms a this fashion? Dost make hose of thy sleeves? Do other servants so? Thou Wertenberg best set thy lower partly where thy nose stands. By mine Honour, If I were but two hours younger, I'de beat thee: me thinkest thou art a general offence, and every man should beat thee: I think thou wast created for men to breath themselves upon thee. Go too 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, then the Commission of your birth and virtue gives you Heraldry. You are not worth another word, else I'de call you knave. I leave you. But I hope your Lordship thinks not him a soldier. You have it from his own deliverance. Then my Dial goes not true, I took this Lark for a bunting. I have then sinned against his experience, and transgressed against his valour, and my state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent: Here he comes, I pray you make us Friends, I will pur sue the amity. Pray you sir whose his Tailor? Oh I know him well, I sir, he sirs a good work man, a very good Tailor. A good Traveler is something at the latter end of a dinner, but on that lies three thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once hard, and thrice beaten. God save you Cap taine. You have made shift to run into't, boots and spurs and all: Like him that leapt into the Custard, and out of it you'll run again, rather then suffer question for your residence. And shall do so ever, though I took him at's prayers. Fare you well my Lord, and believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light Nut: the soul of this man is his clothes: Trust him not in matter of heavy consequence: I have kept of them tame, & know their nature's. Farewell Monsieur, I have spoken better of you, then you have or will to deserve at my hand, but we must do good against evil. No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipped taffeta fellow there, whose villainous saffron would have made all the unbaked and dowy youth of a nation in his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at this hour, and your son here at home, more advance worser by the King, then by that red-tail'd humble Be I speak of. It a good Lady, 'twas a good Lady. We may pick a thousand salads ere we light on such anon there herb. They are not herbs you knave, they are nose-hearbes. Whither dost thou profess thy self, a knave or a fool? Your distinction. So you were a knave at his service indeed. I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool. No, no, no. Whose that, a Frenchman? What prince is that? Hold thee there's my purse, I give thee not this to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest off, serve him still. Go thy ways, I begin to be a weary of thee, and I tell thee so before, because I would not fallen out with thee. Go thy ways, let my horses be well looked too, without any tricks. A shrewd knave and and unhappy. I Like him well, it's not amiss: and I was about to tell you, since I herd of the good Ladies 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 do's your Ladyship Like it? His Highness comes post from Marcellus, of as able body as when he numbered thirty, a will be here to morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such intel ligence hath seldom failed. Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might safely be admitted. Lady, of that I have made a bold charter, but I thank my God, it holds yet. A scar nobly God, Or a noble scar, is a good livery of honour, So belike is that. Let us go see your son I pray you, I long to talk With the young noble soldier. And what would you have me to do? It's too late to pair her nails now. Wherein have you played the knave with fortune that she should scratch you, who of her self is a good Lady, and would not have knaves thrive long under? There's a Cardecue for you: Let the Justices make you and fortune friends; I am for other business. you beg a single penny more: Come you shall would to, save your word. You beg more then word then. Cox my pass sion, give me your hand: How does your drum? Was I insooth? And I was the first that lost thee. Out upon thee knave, dost thou put upon me at once both the offiee of God and the devil: one brings thee in grace, and the other brings thee out. The Kings coming I know by his Trumpets. Sirrah, inquire fur there after me, I had talk of you last night, though you are a fool and a knave, you shall eat, go too, follow. This I must say, But first I beg my pardon: the young Lord Did to his Majesty, his Mother, and his Lady, Offence of mighty note; but to himself The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife, Whose beauty did astonish the survey Of richest eyes: whose words all ears took captive, Whose deer perfection, hearts that scorned to serve, Humbly called Mistress. All that he is, hath reference to your Highness. He looks well on't. Come on my son, in whom my houses name Must be digested: give a favour from you To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, That she may quickly come. By my old beard, And every hair that's on't, Helen that's dead Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, The last that ere I took her leave at Court, I saw upon her finger. I am sure I saw her wear it. I will buy me a son in Law in a fair, and toule for this. I'll none of him. your reputation comes too short for my daugh ter, you are no husband for her. I saw the man to day, if man he be. He's a good drum my Lord, but a naughty Orator. This woman's and easy glove my Lord, she goes off and on at pleasure. Mine eyes smell Onions, I shall weep anon: Good Tom Drum lend me a handkerchief. So I thank thee, wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: Let thy curtsies alone, they are scurvy ones. Your commendations Madam get from her tears. Pardon my Lord for me and for my tidings. Then heres a man stands that has brought his pardon, I would you had kneeled my Lord to ask me mercy, And that at my bidding you could so stand up. They say miracles are passed, 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 our selves into see ming knowledge, when we should submit our selves to and unknown fear. To be relinquished of the Artists. Of all the learned and authentic fellows. Not to be helped. Uncertain life, and sure death. I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. A showing of a heavenly effect in and earth lie Actor. Why your Dolphin is not lustier: before me I speak in respect— Very hand of heaven. In a most weak— Lustique, 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 Carranto. Before God I think so. I had rather be in this choice, then throw Ames-ace for my life. Do all they deny her? And they were sons of mine, I'de have them whipped, or I would send them to 'th Turk to make Eunuchs of. That gave him out incurable. Generally thankful. I'de give bay curtal, and his furniture My mouth no more were broken then these boys, And writ as little beard. These boys are boys of Ice, they'le none have here: sure they are bastards to the English, the French never God em. There's one grape yet, I am sure thy father drunk wine. But if thou best not and ass, I am a youth of fourteen: I have known thee already.