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

Hel. Not my virginity yet.

There fhall your Mafter have a thoufand loves,
A Mother, and a Mistress, and a Friend,
A Phoenix, Captain, and an Enemy,
A Guide, a Goddefs, and a Soveraign,
A Counsellor, a Traitress, and a Dear';
His humble ambition, proud humility;
His jarring concord; and his difcord dulcet;
His faith, his fweet difafter; with a world
Of pretty fond adoptious christendoms,
That blinking Capid goffips.
I know not, what he fhall

Now fhall he
God fend him well!
and he is one

. The Court's a learning place


Par. What one, i'faith?
Hel. That I wish well-'tis pity
Par. What's pity?

Het. That wishing well had not a body in't,
Which might be felt; that We the poorer born,
Whofe bafer ftars do fhut us up in wifhes,
Might with effects of them follow our friends;
And fhew what we alone muft 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 especially think, under Mars.
Par. Why under Mars?


Hel. The wars have kept you so under, that 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.
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 anfwer thee acutely I will return perfect Courtier; in the which, my inftruction fhall ferve to naturalize thee, fo thou wilt be capable of Courtiers counfel, and understand what advice fhall thruft upon thee; elfe thou dieft in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away; farewel. When thou haft leifure, fay thy prayers; when thou haft none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, and use him as he ufes thee: To farewel. [Exit.

Hel. Our remedies oft in our felves do lie, Which we ascribe to Heav'n. The fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our flow defigns, when we our felves 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 strange attempts, to thofe That weigh their pain in fense; and do fuppofe, What hath been, cannot be. Who ever 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.



SCENE changes to the Court of France.

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

King. T

HE Florentines and Senoys are by t' ears; Have fought with equal fortune, and continue

A braving war.

I Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir.

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.

1 Lord. His love and wisdom, 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 Tufcan fervice, freely have they leave
To ftand on either part.

2 Lord. It may well ferye 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 hafte, Hath well compos'd thee. Thy Father's moral parts May'st 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 my self 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 steal 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 observe
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 (4)
Were in him; Pride or Sharpness, if there were,
His Equal had awak'd them; and his honour,
Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
Exceptions bid him speak; and at that time
His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him
He us'd as creatures of another place,

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

In their poor praise he humbled: Such a man
Might be a copy to these younger times;
Which, follow'd well, would now demonftrate 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

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(4] So like a Courtier, no Contempt or Bitterness

Were in his Pride or Sharpness; if they were,
His Equal had awak'd them. - ]


This Paffage feems fo very incorrectly pointed, that the Author's Meaning is loft in the Carelessness. As the Text and Stops are reform'd, these are most beautiful Lines, and the Senfe this. "He had no Contempt or "Bitterness; if he had any thing that look'd like Pride or Sharpness, (of which Qualities Contempt and Bitterness are the Exceffes,) his "Equal had awaked them, not his Inferior; to whom he fcorn'd to difcover any thing that bore the Shadow of Pride or Sharpness.


Mr. Warburton.

He scatter'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 fruff
Of younger spirits, whofe apprehensive senses
All but new things difdain; whofe judgments are
Meer 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 labourers room.

2 Lord. You're loved, Sir;

They, that least lend it you, thall lack you first.
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;
the rest have worn me out
Nature and Sickness
Welcome, Count,

Lend me an arm;
With feveral applications;
Debate it at their leifure.
My fon's no dearer.

Ber. Thank your Majefty.

[Flourish, Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Countess's at Roufillon.

Enter Countess, Steward and Clown.

Count. I Will now hear; what say you of this gentle

Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I wish might be found in the calendar of my paft endeavours; (5) for then we wound our modefty, and make

(5) For then we wound our Modefty, and make foul the Clearness of sur Defervings, when of Our felves we publish them.] This Sentiment our Author has again inculcated in his Troilus and Creffida.


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