And think to wed it, he is so above me:
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
The 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 see him every hour; to sit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table; heart, too capable

2

Of every line and trick of his sweet favour 3:
But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy
Must sanctify his relicks. Who comes here?

Enter PAROLles.

One that goes with him: I love him for his sake;
And yet I know him a notorious liar,

Think him a great way fool, solely a coward;
Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him,

1

That they take place, when virtue's steely bones Look bleak in the cold wind: withal, full oft we see Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly.

Par. Save you, fair queen.

Hel. And you, monárch. -You're for the court.
There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,

A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,
A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;
His humble ambition, proud humility,
His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
That blinking Cupid gossips.
I know not what he shall;
The court's a learning-place;
Par. What one, l'faith?

2 Peculiarity of feature.

--

Now shall he

God send him well! and he is one

3 Countenance.

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 show what we alone must think; which never Returns us thanks.

Enter a Page.

Page. Monsieur 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. Monsieur 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 so kept you 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 so?

Hel. You go so much backward, when you fight. Par. That's for advantage.

Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes the safety: But the composition, that your valour and fear makes in you, is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well.

Par. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. Remember thy

friends: : get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: so farewell.

[Exit.

Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. What power is it, which mounts my love so high, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? The mightiest space in fortune nature brings To join like likes, and kiss like native things.* Impossible be strange attempts, to those That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose, What hath been cannot be: Who ever strove To show her merit, that did miss her love? The king's disease my project may deceive me. But my intents are fix'd, and will not leave me.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Paris. A Room in the King's Palace.

Flourish of Cornets. Enter the King of France, with letters; Lords and others attending.

King. The Florentines and Senoys' are by the

ears;

Have fought with equal fortune, and continue
A braving war.

1 Lord.

So 'tis reported, sir.

King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it, A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria, With caution, that the Florentine will move us For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend

4 Things formed by nature for each other.

5 The citizens of the small republic of which Sienna is the capital.

Prejudicates the business, and would seem
To have us make denial.

1 Lord.

His love and wisdom,

Approv'd so to your majesty, may plead
For amplest credence.

King.
He hath arm'd our answer,
And Florence is denied before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen, that mean to see
The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.

2 Lord.
It may well serve
A nursery to our gentry, who are sick
For breathing and exploit.

King.

What's he comes here?

Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES.

1 Lord. It is the count Rousillon, my good lord, Young Bertram.

King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts May'st thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.

now,

Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's.
King. I would I had that corporal soundness
As when thy father, and myself, in friendship
First try'd our soldiership! He did look far
Into the service of the time, and was
Discipled of the bravest: he lasted 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 jest,
Till their own scorn return to them unnoted,
Ere they can hide their levity in honour..
So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness
Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
His equal had awak'd them; and his honour,

Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
Exception bid him speak, and, at this 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 démonstrate them now
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 al

ways say,

(Methinks, I hear him now; his plausive words
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 snuff

Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses
All but new things disdain; whose judgments are
Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies
Expire before their fashions: This he wish'd:

I, after him, do after him wish too,

Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home,
I quickly were dissolved from my hive,

To give some labourers room.

You are lov'd, sir;

2 Lord. They, that least lend it you, shall lack you first. King. I fill a place, I know't. - How long is't,

count,

Since the physician at your father's died?

He was much fanı'd.

Approbation.