First try'd our foldiership: he did look far
Into the service of the time, and was
Discipled of the brav'st. 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 obferve
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, no contempt or bitterness (3)
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,

(3) So like a Courtier, no Contempt or Bitterness

Were in his Pride or Sharpness ; if they were,

His Equal had awak'd them.) This Passage seems so very incorrectly pointed, that the Author's Meaning is lost in the Carelessness. As the Text and Stops are reform'd, these are most beautiful Lines, and the Sense this" He had no

Contempt or Bitterness; if he had any thing that look'd like "Pride or Sharpness, (of which Qualities Contempt and Bit" terness are the Excesses,) his Equal had awak'd them, not "his Inferior; to whom he scorn'd to discover any thing that " bore the Shadow of Pride or Sharpness." Mr. Warburton. (Methinks,

(Methinks, I hear him now; his plaufive 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 paftime,
When it was out,) let me not live, (quoth he,)
After my flame lacks oil; to be the snuff
Of younger spirits, whose apprehenfive senses
All but new things disdain; whose judgments are
Meer 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 fome labourers room.

2 Lord. You're loved, Sir;

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 fam'd.

Ber. Some fix months fince, my lord.
King. If he were living, I would try him yet;
Lend me an arm; - the rest have worn me out
With feveral applications; nature and fickness
Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count,
My fon's no dearer.

Ber. Thank your Majesty.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE changes to the Countess's at Roufillon.

Count.

I

Enter Countess, Stervard and Clown.

Will now hear; what say you of this gentle

woman?

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

Count. What does this knave here? get you gone, Sirrah:

Sirrah: the complaints, I have heard of you, I do not all believe; 'tis my flowness that I do not, for, I know, you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make such knaveries 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, tho' many of the rich are damn'd; but, if I 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 ?
Clo. I do beg your good will in this cafe.
Count. In what cafe?

Clo. In Isbel's case, and mine own; service is no heritage, and, I think, I shall never have the blessing of God, 'till I have issue of my body; for they say, bearns are blessings.

Count. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt 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 holy reasons, 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, sooner than thy wickedness. Clo. I am out of friends, Madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife's fake.

Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

Clown. Y'are shallow, Madam, in great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am weary of; he, that eares my land, spares 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 cherisher of my flesh and blood; he, that cherisheth my flesh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he, that loves my flesh flesh and blood, is my friend: ergo, he, that kisses 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 Poyfam the papift, howfoe'er their hearts are sever'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 speak the truth the next way;

" For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true " shall find; "Your marriage comes by destiny, your cuckow fings 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.

66

Clo.

" Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, (4)

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

for Paris, he,

(4) Was this fair Face the Cause, quoth She, Why the Grecians sacked Troy?

[Singing.

Was this King Priam's Joy?] As the Stanza, that follows, is in alternate Rhyme, and as a Rhyme is here wanting to She in the first verse; 'tis evident, the third Line is wanting. The old Folio's give Us a Part of it; but how to fupply the loft Part, was the Question. Mr. Rowe has given us the Fragment honestly, as he found it: but Mr. Pope, rather than to seem founder'd, has tunk it upon Us. _ 1 communicated to my ingenious Friend Mr. Warburton, how I found the Paffage in the old Books;

[Fond done, done, fond,

Was this King Priam's Joy?]

And from Him I received that Supplement, which I have given to the Text. And the Historians tell us, it was Paris who was Priam's favourite Son.

"Was

Among nine bad if one be good,

"There's yet one good in ten,

Count. What, one good in ten? You corrupt the song, Sirrah.

Clo. One good woman in ten, Madam, which is a purifying o'th' fong: 'would, God would serve the world so all the year! we'd find no fault with the tythe-woman, if I were the Parfon; one in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good woman born but every blazing star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well; a man may draw his heart out, ere he pluck one.

Count. You'll be gone, Sir knave, and do as I command you?

Clo. That man that should be at a woman's command, and yet no hurt done! tho' honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplis of humility over the black gown of a big heart: I am going, forfooth, the business is for Helen to come hither. [Exit.

Count. Well, now.

Stew. I know, Madam, you love your gentlewoman intirely.

Count. Faith, I do; her father bequeath'd her to me; and the herself, without other advantages, may lawfully make title to as much love as she finds; there is more owing her, than is paid; and more shall be paid her, than fhe'll demand.

Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her, than, I think, the wih'd me; alone the was, and did communicate to herself her own words to her own ears; she thought, I are vow for her, they touch'd not any stranger fenie. Her matter was, the lov'd your fon; Fortune, she said, was no Goddess, (5) that had put

fuch

(5) Fortune, she said, was no Goddess, &c. Love, no God, &c. complain'd against the Queen of Virgins, &c.] This Passage stands thus in the old Copies :