Par. That's, for advantage.

Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes fafety but the compofition, that your valour and fear makes in you, is a virtue of a good wing; and I like the wear well

Par. I am fo full of bufineffes, as I cannot answer thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my inftruction fhall ferve to naturalize thee, fo thou wilt be capable of courtier's counfel, and under ftand what advice fhall thruft upon thee; elfe thou dieft in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When thou haft leifure, fay thy prayers; when thou haft none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: fo farewell. [Exit

SCENE IV.

Hel. Our remedies oft in ourfelves do lie,
Which we afcribe to Heav'n. The fated fky
Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull.
Our flow defigns, when we ourfelves are dull.
What power is it which mounts my love fo high,
That makes me fee, and cannot feed mine eye?
The mightieft space in fortune nature brings
To join like likes, and kifs like native things.
Impoffible be ftrange attempts to thofe
That weigh their pain in fenfe; and do fuppofe,
What hath been, cannot be. Whoever ftrove
To fhew her merit, that did mifs her love?
The king's difeafe-my project may deceive me.
my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me.

But

SCENE V.

Changes to the court of France.

[Exit.

Flourish cornets. Enter the King of France with letters, and divers attendants.

King. The Florentines and Senoys are by th' ears,

Have fought with equal fortune, and continue

A braving war..

1 Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir.

King

King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it,
A certainty vouch'd from our coufin Austria;
With caution, that the Florentine will move us
For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend
Prejudicates the bufinefs, and would feem
To have us make denial.

I Lord. His love and wifdom,

Approv'd fo to your Majefty, may plead
For ample credence.

King. He hath arm'd our answer;

And Florence is deny'd, before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to fee
The Tuscan fervice, freely have they leave
To ftand on either part.

2 Lord. It may well ferve

A nursery to our gentry, who are fick
For breathing and exploit.

King. What's he comes here?

Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles.

1 Lord. It is the Count Roufillon, my good Lord,. Young Bertram.

King. Youth, thou bear'ft thy father's face.
Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,

Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts
May't thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.

Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majesty's.
King. I would I had that corporal foundness now,
As when thy father and myfelf in friendship
First try'd our foldiership: he did look far.
Into the fervice of the time, and was
Difcipled of the brav'ft. He lafted long;
But on us both did haggish age fteal on,
And wore us out of act. It much repairs me
To talk of your good father; in his youth
He had the wit which I can well obferve
To-day in our young lords; but they may jeft,
Till their own fcorn return to them unnoted,
Ere they can hide their levity in honour:
So like a courtier, no contempt or bitterness
Were in him; pride or sharpness, if there were,
His equal had awak'd them; and his honour,

Clock

Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
Exceptions bid him fpeak; and at that time
His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him
He us'd as creatures s of another place,

And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks;
Making them proud; and his humility,

In their poor praife, he humbled. Such a man
Might be a copy to these younger times;

Which, follow'd well, would now demonstrate them
But goers
backward.

Ber. His good remembrance, Sir,

Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb;.
So in approof lives not his epitaph *,

As in your royal speech.

King, Would I were with him! he would always fay, (Methinks I hear him now; his plaufive words

He fcatter'd not in ears, but grafted them

Το grow there, and to bear,) Let me not live
(Thus his good melancholy oft began,
On the catastrophe and heel of paftime,
When it was out,) let me not live (quoth he)
After my flame lacks oil; to be the fnuff
Of younger fpirits, whofe apprehenfive fendes
All but new things difdain; whofe judgments are
Mere fathers of their garments; whofe conftancies
Expire before their fafhions:- -this he with'd,.
I, after him, do after him wish too

(Since I nor wax, nor honey can bring home)!
I quickly were diffolved from my hive,

To give fome labourer room.

2 Lord. You're loved, Sir;

They that leaft lend it

you, shall lack. you firft.

King I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, Count, Since the phyfician at your father's died?

He was much fam'd.

Ber. Some fix months fince, my Lord.

King. If he were living, I would try him yet;-

Lend me an arm;

the reft have worn me out

With feveral applications: nature and fickness
Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, Count,
My fon's no dearer.

* Character.

Ber.

Ber. Thank your Majesty.

[Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE VI. Changes to the Countess's at Roufillon..

Enter Countefs, Steward, and Clown.

Count. I will now hear; what fay you of this gentle

woman?

Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your con tent, I wish might be found in the calendar of my past endeavours; for then we wound our modefty, and make foul the clearness of our defervings, when of ourselves we publish them.

Count. What does this knave here! get you gone, fir. rah: the complaints I have heard of you, I do not all believe; 'tis my flowness that I do not; for I know you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make fuch knaveries yours.

Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you, Madam, I am a poor fellow.

Count. Well, Sir.

Clo. No, Madam; 'tis not fo well that I am poor, tho' many of the rich are damn'd; but if I have your Ladyfhip's good-will to go to the world, Ifbel the woman and I will do as we may.

Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar?

Clo. I do beg your good-will in this cafe.
Count. In what cafe?

Clo. In Ifbel's cafe, and mine own; fervice is no heritage, and I think I fhall never have the bleffing of God, till I have iffue of my body; for they fay, bearns are bleffings.

Count.. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.

Clo. My poor body, Madam, requires it. 1 am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives.

Count. Is this all your Worship's reason

Clo. 'Faith, Madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are.

7

Count. May the world know them?

Clo. I have been, Madam, a wicked creature, as you and all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry, that I may repent.

Count. Thy marriage fooner than thy wickedness.

Clo.

Clo. I am out of friends, Madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife's fake.

Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

Clo. Y' are fhallow, Madam, in great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am weary of. He that ears my lands, fpares my team, and gives me leave to inne the crop. If I be his cuckold, he's my drudge. He that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of my flesh and blood; he that cherisheth my flesh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh and blood, is my friend: he that kiffes my wife, is my ergo, friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage: for young Charbon the Puritan, and old, Poyfon the Papift, howfoe'er their hearts are fever'd in religion, their heads are both one; they may joul horns together, like any deer i' th' herd. Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul mouth'd and calumnious knave?

Clo. A prophet, I, Madam; and I speak the truth the

next way.

"For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true shall

find:

"Your marriage comes by deftiny, your cuckow fings by "kind."

Count. Get you gone, Sir, I'll talk with you more

anon.

Stew. May it please you, Madam, that he bid Helen come to you; of her I am to speak..

Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; Helen I mean.

Clo. Was this fair face the caufe, quoth fhe,

"Why the Grecians facked Troy?

[Singing.

"Fond done, fond done; for Paris, he,

"Was this King Priam's joy.

"With that the fighed as the ftood,

"And gave this fentence then;

"Among nine bad if one be good, "There's yet one good in ten."

Count. What, one good in ten! You corrupt the fong,

firrah.

Clo.