Puslapio vaizdai
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Count. What hope is there of his Majesty's amend

ment?

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Laf. He hatl. abandon'd his physicians, Madam, under whose practices he hath perfecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the process, but only the lofing of hope by time.

Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (0, that bad! how fad a presage 'tis!) whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretch'd fo far, it would have made nature immortal, and death should have play'd for lack of work. 'Would, for the King's fake, The were living! I think it would be the death of the King's disease.

Laf. How call'd you the man you speak of, Madam? Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon.

Laf. He was excellent, indeed, Madam; the King very lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: he was skilful enough to have liv'd still, if knowledge could be fet up against mortality.

of?

Ber. What is it, my good Lord, the King languishes

Laf. A fiftula, my Lord.
Ber. I heard not of it before.

Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon?

Count. His fole child, my Lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good, that her education promises her: difpofition she inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries -virtuous qualities*, there commendations go with pity; they are virtues and traitors too: in her they are the better for her fimpleness; she derives her honesty, and atchieves her goodness.

Laf. Your commendations, Madam, get from her

tears.

Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praife in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her forrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena;

* By virtuous qualities here are not meant those of a moral kind, but such as are acquired by erudition and good breeding.

Helena; go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect a forrow, than to have it.

Hel. I do affect a forrow, indeed, but I have it too. Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living.

Count. If the living be not enemy to the grief, the excess makes it foon mortak

Ber. Madam, I defire your holy wishes.
Laf. How understand we that?

:

Count. Be thou bless'd, Bertram, and fucceed thy father In manners as in shape! thy blood and virtue Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy Rather in power, than use; and keep thy friend Under thy own life's key: be check'd for filence, But never tax'd for speech. What heav'n more will,, That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down, Fall on thy head! farewell, my Lord; 'Tis an unseason'd courtier, good my Lord, Advise him.

Laf. He cannot want the best,.

That shall attend his love.

Count. Heav'n bless him! Farewell, Bertram.

[Exit Countess.

Ber. [To Hel.] The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoughts, be servants to you! Be comfortable to my mother your mistress, and make much of her.

Laf. Farewell, pretty Lady, you must hold the credit of your father. [Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu.

SCENE II.

Hel. Oh, were that all! - I think not on my father; And thefe great tears grace his remembrance more Than those I shed for him. What was he like? I have forgot him. My imagination Carries no favour in it, but my Bertram's. I am undone, there is no living, none, If Bertram be away. It were all one, That I should love a bright partic'lar star, And think to wed it; he is sfo above me:

:

In his bright radiance and collateral * light
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
'Th' ambition in my love thus plagues itself;
The hind that would be mated by the lion,
Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague,
To fee him every hour; to fit, and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table; heart too capable

1. Of every line and trick of his sweet favour!
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?

Enter Parolles.

One that goes with him: I love him for his fake,
" And yet I know him a notorious liar;
" Think him a great way fool, folely a coward;
"Yet these fix'd evils fit so fit in him,
"That they take place, when Virtue's steely bones
"Look bleak in the cold wind;" full oft we fee
Cold † Wisdom waiting on fuperfluous Folly,

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Par. Are you meditating on virginity?"

Hel. Ay; you have fome ftain of foldier in you; let me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity, how may we barricado it against him?

Par. Keep him out.

Hel. But he affails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us fome warlike resistance.

Par. There is none: man, setting down before you, will undermine you, and blow you up.

Hel. Bless our poor virginity from underminers and

• Reflected.

+ Cold for naked; as fuperfluous for over-cloth'd.

Stain for colour.

blowers

Is there no military policy how virgins

blowers up!
might blow up men?

Par. Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to preferve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increafe; and there was never virgin got, till virginity was first loft. That you were made of, is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once loft, may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever loft; 'tis too cold a companion: away with't.

Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die. a virgin.

Par. There's little can be said in't; 'tis against the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, 'tis to accuse your mother; which is most infallible difobedience. As he that hangs himself, so is a virgin: 'Virginity murthers itself, and should be buried in highways out of all fanctified limit, as a desperate offendress a.. gainft nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a • cheese; confumes itself to the very paring, and so dies ' with feeding its own stomach. Besides, virginity is ' peevish, proud, idle, made of felf-love; which is the • most prohibited fin in the canon. Keep it not, you ' cannot chuse but lose by't Out with't; within ten • years it will make itself two, which is a goodly increase, and the principal itself not much the worse. Away 'with't.'

Hel. How might one do, Sir, to lose it to her own liking?

Par. Let me fee. Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the glofs with lying. The longer kept, the less worth; off with't while 'tis vendible. Answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion; richly fuited, but unfuitable: just like the brooch and the toothpick, which we wear not now. Your date is better in your pye and your porridge, than in your cheek; and your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd pears; it looks ill, it eats dryly; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear: it was formerly better; marry, yet 'tis a wither'd

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wither'd pear. Will you any thing with it.
Hel. Not my virginity yet.

There shall your mafter have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend * ;
I know not what he shall God fend him well!

The court's a learning place

Par. What one, i' faith?

and he is gone

Hel. That I wish well-'tis pity

Par. What's pity?

Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't
Which might be felt; that we the poorer born,
Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,
Might with effects of them follow our friends;
And shew what we alone must think, which never
Returns us thanks.

Enter Page.

Page. Monfieur Parolles,

My Lord calls for you.

[Exit Page.

Par. Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember

thee, I will think of thee at court.

Hel. Monfieur Parolles, you were born under a cha

ritable star.

Par. Under Mars, I.

Hel. I especially think under Mars.

Par. Why under Mars?

Hel. The wars have kept you so under, that you must

needs be born under Mars.

Par. When he was predominant.

Hel. When he was retrograde, I think rather.

Par. Why think you fo?

Hel. You go so much backward, when you fight.

and a friend,

A phœnix, captain, and an enemy;
A guide, a goddess, and a fovereign:
A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear:
His humble ambition, proud humility;
His jarring concord; and his discord dulcet;
His faith, his sweet difaster; with a world
Of pretty fond adoptious Christendoms.
That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he
I know not, &c.

Par

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