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

Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (0 that had! how fad a prefage 'tis !), whofe fkill was almost as great as his honefty; had it ftretch'd so far, it would have made nature immortal, and death fhould have play'd for lack of work. 'Would, for the King's fake, he 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 profeffion, and it was his great right to be fo: 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 ftill, if knowledge could be fet up against mortality.

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

Laf. A fiftula, my Lord.

Ber. I heard not of it before.

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

gen

Count. His fole child, my Lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have thofe hopes of her good, that her education promifes her : difpofition fhe 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; fhe derives her honefty, and atchieves her goodness. Laf. Your commendations, Madam, get from her

tears.

Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can feafon her praise 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.

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

Helena;

Helena; go to, no more; left 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, excellive grief the enemy to the living.

Gount. If the living be not enemy to the grief, the excefs makes it foon mortal.

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

Ber. Be thou blefs'd, Bertram, and fucceed thy
father

In manners as in fhape! 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 pray'rs pluck down,
Fall on thy head; farewel, my Lord;

'Tis an unfeafon'd courtier, good my Lord,
Advise him.

Laf. He cannot want the best,

That fhall attend his love.

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

[Exit Countefs.

Ber. [To Hel.] The best wishes that can be forge'd in your thoughts, be fervants 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.

SCEN E II.

Hel. Oh, were that all !

ther;

-I think not on my

And these great tears grace his remembrance more
Than thofe I fhed 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,

fa

That

That I fhould love a bright partic'lar ftar,
And think to wed it; he is fo above me :
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Mult I be comforted, not in his fphere.
Thambition in my love thus plagues itself;
The hind that would be mated by the lion,
Muit 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
Of every line and trick of his fweet favour!
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Muft fanctify 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 lyar; "Think him a great way fool, folely a coward ; "Yet thefe fix'd evils fit fo fit in him,

That they take place, when virtue's fteely bones "Look bleak in the cold wind;" full oft. we fee Cold Wifdom waiting on fuperfluous Folly.

SCENE

Par. Save you, fair Queen.

Hel. And you, Monarch.

Par. No.

Hel. And no,

III.

Par. Are you meditating on virginity?

Hel. Ay; you have fome ftain of foldier in you; let me afk you a queftion. 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 refiftance.

Par. There is none; man, fetting down. before you, will undermine you, and blow you up.

Hel. Blefs our poor virginity from underminers, and

*Cold for naked; as fuperfluous for ever-clotbid.

+ Stain for colour.

blowers

blowers up! Is there no military policy how virgins 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. Lofs of virginity is rational increase: 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 ftand for't a little, though therefore I die a virgin.

Par. There's little can be faid in't; 'tis against the rule of nature. To fpeak on the part of virginity, is to accufe your mother; which is most infallible difobedience. As he that hangs himself, fo is a virgin: • Virginity murthers itfelf, and thould be buried in highways out of all fanctified limit, as a'defperate offendrefs against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheefe; confumes itself to the very paring, and fo dies with feeding its own ftomach. Befides, virginity is peevith, proud, idle, made of felf-love; which is the most prohibited fin in the canon. Keep it not, you cannot chufe but lofe by’t. Out with't: within ten years it will make itfelf two, which is a goodly increafe, and the principal itfelf not much the worfe. 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 lofe the glofs with lying. The longer kept, the le's worth; off with't while 'tis vendible. Anfwer the time of requeft. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fathion; richly futed, but unfutable: juft like the brooch and the tooth-pick, 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 drily; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear: it was formerly bet

ter;

ter; marry, yet 'tis a wither'd pear. Will you any thing with it?

Hel. Not my virginity yet.

There fhall your mafter have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend *;
I know not what he fhall-God fend him well!-
The court's a learning place-and he is one
Par. What one, i' faith?

Hel. That I wish well-'tis pity--
Par. What's pity?

Hel. That wifhing well had not a body in't
Which might be felt; that we the poorer born,
Whofe bafer flars do fhut us up in wifhes,

Might with effects of them follow our friends:
And fhew 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, farewel; if I can remember thee, I will think of thee at court.

Hel. Monfieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.

Par. Under Mars, I.

Hel. I efpecially think under Mars.

Par. Why under Mars?

Hel. The wars have kept you fo under, that you

muft 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 fo much backward, when you fight.