Par. That's for advantage. Hel. So is running away, when fear propofes fafety: but the compofition, that your valour and fear makes in you, is a virtue of a good ming; and I like the wear well. Par. I am fo full of businesses, as I cannot answer thee acutely I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my inftruction fhall serve to naturalize thee, fo thou wilt be capable of courtier's counfel, and underftand what advice fhall thruft upon thee; elfe thou dieft in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewel. When thou hast leifure, fay thy prayers; when thou haft none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, and use him as he ufes thee: fo farewel. [Exit. Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we afcribe to Heav'n. The fated sky Gives us free scope; only doth backward pull Our flow designs, 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 mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes, and kiss like native things. Impoffible be strange 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 disease - my project may deceive me, But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me. [Exit. Changes to the court of France. Flourish cornets. Enter the king of France with letters, and divers attendants. cars; King. The Florentines and Senoys are by th' ears, 1 Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir. B King King. Nay, 'tis moft credible; we here receive it, A certainty vouch'd from our coufin Auftria; With caution, that the Florentine will move us For fpeedy aid; wherein our dearest friend Prejudicates the bufinefs, and would feem To have us make denial. I Lord. His love and wisdom, Approv'd fo to your Majefty, may plead King. He hath arm'd our answer; And Florence is deny'd, before he comes: 2 Lord. It may well ferve A nursery to our gentry, who are fick King. What's he comes here? Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles. I Lord. It is the Count Roufillon, my good Lord, Young Bertram, King. Youth, thou bear' thy father's face.. Frank nature, rather curious than in hafte, 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 Majefty's. King. I would I had that corporal foundness now, As when thy father and myfelf in friendship First try'd our foldierfhip: he did look far Into the fervice of the time, and was Difcipled of the brav'st. He lafted long; But on us both did haggish age fteal on, And wore us out of a&t. 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 And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks; In their poor praife, he humbled. Such a man Which, follow'd well, would now demonstrate them Ber. His good remembrance, Sir, Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb; 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 To grow there, and to bear), Let me not live(Thus his good melancholy oft began, On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, When it was out), let me not live (quoth he) After my flame lacks oil; to be the fnuff Of younger fpirits, whofe apprehenfive fenfes All but new things difdain; whofe judgments are Mere fathers of their garments; whofe conftancies Expire before their fashions :---- this he with'd. I, after him, do after him with 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. 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 sickness My fon's no dearer. Debate it at their leifure. Welcome, Count, Ber. Thank your Majefty. B 2 [Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE SCENE VI. Changes to the Countess's at Roufillore Enter Countess, Steward, and Clown.. Count. I will now hear; what fay you of this gentlewoman? Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I wish might be found in the calendar of my paft endeavours; for then we wound our modefty, and make foul the clearness of our defervings, when of our felves we publish them. Count. What does this knave here? get you gone, firrah: the complaints I have heard of you, I do not all believe; 'tis my flownefs that I do not; for I know you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make fuch knaveries yare. Clo. "Tis not unknown to you, Madain, 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 Ladyship'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. 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 reafon why thou wik marry. Clo. My poor body, Madam, requires it. I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. Count. Is this all your Worfhip's reafon ? Clo. 'Faith, Madam, I have other holy reafons, fuch as they are. 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. 3 Glo. 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 ain 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 cherifher of my flesh and blood; he that cherisheth my Hefh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh and blood, is my friend: ergo, he that kiffes my wife, is my 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 fpeak the truth the next way. For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true "fhall find; Your marriage comes by deftiny, your cuckow fings. 66 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? "Fond done, fond done; for Paris, he, Was this King Priam's joy. "With that fhe fighed as the flood, "And gave this fentence then; "Among nine bad if one be good, There's yet one good in ten. [Singing Count. What, one good in ten? You corrupt the fong, firrah. |