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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'ld compel it of you: but fare you well.
God save you, noble captain.
That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. Unblinding him So, look about you: know you any here?
He hath out-villained villany so far, that the rarity redeems him.
I begin to love him for this.
Excellently.
Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your lordship anon.
Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my condition, and what credit I have with the duke.
He's very near the truth in this.
You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of his dagger.
Boblibindo chicurmurco.
Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa
They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. Here's his lordship now. Enter BERTRAM How now, my lord! is't not after midnight?
The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our faults whipped them not; and our crimes would despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. Enter a Messenger How now! where's your master?
How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses!
Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from point, so to the full arming of the verity.
The stronger part of it by her own letters, which makes her story true, even to the point of her death: her death itself, which could not be her office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by the rector of the place.
Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her grief; in fine, made a groan ...
I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether of his council.
Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded.
In the mean time, what hear you of these wars?
That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see his company anatomized, that he might take a measure of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had set this counterfeit.
Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his company to-night?
Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, what things are we!
When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the grave of it.
He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking off so good a wife and so sweet a lady.
You have not given him his mother's letter?
With all my heart, my lord.
But you say she's honest.
We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this very night.
You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but when you find him out, you have him ever after.
That was not to be blamed in the command of the service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar himself could not have prevented, if he had been there to command.
A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum.
O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; he says he has a stratagem for't: when your lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be melted, if you give him not John Drum's ...
None better than to let him fetch off his drum, which you hear him so confidently undertake to do.
It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some great and trusty business in a main danger fail you.
If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no more in your respect.
But I am sure the younger of our nature, That surfeit on their ease, will day by day Come here for physic.
Holy seems the quarrel Upon your grace's part; black and fearful On the opposer.
And grant it.
We shall, noble captain.
Farewell, captain.
There's honour in the theft.
O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
'Tis our hope, sir, After well enter'd soldiers, to return And find your grace in health.
It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, Young Bertram.
His love and wisdom, Approved so to your majesty, may plead For amplest credence.
So 'tis reported, sir.