acutely: 1

thine una rewell. When thou hast leisure, say the

Par. When he was predominant.
Flel. When he was retrograde, I think, rather.
Hel. You go so much backward when you figh!
Par. That's for advantage.

Hel. So is running away, when fear proposer 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 fall of businesses, I cannot anstrer the I will return perfect

courtier; in the which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable

advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in

unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes the prayers;

when thou hast none, remember thy friends: get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee 60 farewell.

Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
Which we ascribe to Heaven: the fated sky
Gives us free scope ; only, doth
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 ere
The mightiest space in fortune nature brings
To join like likes, and kiss like native things
Impossible be
That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose,

strange attempts, to
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

what

Away: fare

[Erit.

ackward pull

those

[Bril.

SOENE II.- Paris.

A Room in the King's Palace. Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING OF FRANCE,

with letters; Lords and others atlending. King. The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears ; Have fought with equal fortune, and continue 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 its For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend

A braving war.

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

His love and wisdom,
Approved so to four majesiy, may plead
For aniplest 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 they have 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 composed 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 soundness now
As when thy father and myself in friendship
First tried our soldiership! He did look far
Into the service of the time, and was
Discipled of the brarest : 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 awaked 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 used 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's well, would demonstrate them now
But goers backward.

To grow

of younger things Spots; tohose constancies

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
(Methinks, I hear him now; his plausive words
He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them,

there, and to bear,)-Let me not livc, -
Thus his

good melancholy oft began,
On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,
When it was out, - let me not lite, quoth he,
After my flame

apprehensive senses
All but new

whose judgments are
Mere fathers of their
Brpire before their fashions:---This he wis b'id:
I, after him, do after him wish too,
Since nor wax, nor honey, can bring hone,
1 quickly were dissolved from my hive,
To give some labourers room.
2 Lord.

You are fored, sir;
They, that least lend it you, shall lack you first.

King. I All a place, I know t-How long is 't, count,
Since the physician at your father's died !
He was much famed.
Ber.

Some six months since, my lord. King. If he were living, I would try him yet ;Lend me an arm; the rest hare worn me out With several applications: - nature and sickness Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; My son's no dearer. Ber.

Thank your majesty,

wchosea be the snuf

[B.reunt. Flourish.

SCENE III.-Rousillon. A Room in the Countess's

Palace. Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown. Count. I will now hear: what say you of this gentlewoman?

Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I wish might be found in the calendar past endeavours; for then we wound our modesty, and make foul the clearness of our deservings, wheu of ouro selves we publish them.

Count. What does this knave here! Get you gone sirrah: The complaints I have heard of you, I do lidt

my

Count."

all believe ; 'tis my slowness, that I do not : for, I know,
you lack not the folly to commit them, and have
ability enough to make such kaveries yours.

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

Count. Well, sir.

Clo. No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor,
though many of the rich are damn'd : But if I may have
your ladyship's good-will to go to the world, Isbel the
woman and I will do as we may,
Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar ?

I do beg your good-will in this case.
Count. In what case ?
heritage : and, I think, I shall never have the blessing

l's case, and mine own. Service is no
of God, till I have the issue of my body; for, they say,
bearns are blessings.

Tell me thy reason why thon will 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 worship's reason ?

Clo. Faith, madam, I have other hols reasons, such
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, sooner than thy wickedness.

I am out of friends, madam; and I hope to have
friends for my wife's sake.

Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
Clo. You are shallow, madam

e'en great friends ;
the knaves come to do that for me, which I am
1-weary of. He, that ears my land, spares my team
and gives me leave to inn the crop: if I be his cuckold,

e's my drudge: He, that comforts my wife, is the
cherisher of my flesh and blood; he, that cherishes
my flesh and blood, loves my flesh' and blood; he, that
loves my flesh and blood, is my friend : ergo, he that

be what they are, there were no fear in marriage : papist, howsoe'er their hearts are severed in religion, their heads are both one, they may joll horns together, like any deer i' the herd.

Count. Wilt thou ever be a soul-mouth'd und calum nious knaye ?

Clo,

for

(Singing.)

Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman, I would speak purifying o' the song : 'Would God would serre the world so all the year! we'd And no fault with the tithe-woman, Ir I were the parson: One in ten, quoth blazing star, or at an earthquake, 'would mend the lottery well : aman may draw his heart out, ere be

Count. You'll be gone, sir koare, and do as I com.

Clo. That man should be at woman's command, and it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humllity yet no hurt done 1-Though honesty be no puritan, set

Stero. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman and she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully Count. Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me;

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 destiny,

Your cuckoo sings by kind.
Count. Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more
&non.

Stew. May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen
come to you ; of her I am to speak.
with her; Helen I mean.
Clo. Was this fair face the cause quoth she,

Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
Fond done, done fond,

Was this king Priam's joy.
With that she sighed

And gave this sentence then,
Among nine bad if one be good,
Among nine bad if one be good,

There's yet one good in len.
Count. What, one good in ten ? you corrupt the song,
sirrah.

Clo. One good woman in ten, madam ; which is a
A'! an we might have a good woman boru but every
pluck one.
mand you?
sooth: the business is for Helen to come hither.

Count. Well now. entirely.

With that she sighed as she stood,

sfood,

[Erit Closen.