BERTRAM.
I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure,
Given order for our horses; and tonight,
When I should take possession of the bride,
End ere I do begin.
LAFEW.
A good traveller is something at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lies three-thirds and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should be once heard and thrice beaten.— God save you, Captain.
BERTRAM.
Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur?
PAROLLES.
I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord’s displeasure.
LAFEW.
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 than suffer question for your residence.
BERTRAM.
It may be you have mistaken him, my lord.
LAFEW.
And shall do so ever, though I took him at his prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this of me, there can be no kernal 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, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur; I have spoken better of you than you have or will to deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil.
[Exit.]
PAROLLES.
An idle lord, I swear.
BERTRAM.
I think so.