Vin. 'Tis a good hearing when children are toward. Luc. 'Tis a wonder, by your leave, she will be tam'd so. [Exeunt. Luc. Well, go thy ways, old lad, for thou shalt ha't. Laf. You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, sir, a father. He that so generally is at all times good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you, whose worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather than lack it where there is such abundance. 12 Count. What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? Laf. He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope, and finds no other advantage in the process but only the losing of hope by time. 19 Count. This young gentlewoman had a father,-O, that 'had!' how sad a passage 'tis! whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so far, would have made nature immortal, and death should have play for lack of work. Would, for the king's sake, he were living! I think it would be the death of the king's disease. madam? 27 Laf. How called you the man you speak of, Count. He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. 32 Laf. He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly. He was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge could be set up against mortality. 37 Ber. What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? Laf. A fistula, my lord. Ber. I heard not of it before. 40 Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? 44 Count. His sole child, my lord; and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that her education promises: her dispositions itions she 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 their simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness. 53 Laf. Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena, go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect a sorrow, than have it. 62 Hel. I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. 64 Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excessive grief the enemy to the living. Hel. If the living be enemy to the grief, the Look bleak in the cold wind: withal, full oft we excess makes it soon mortal. 68 Ber. Madam, I desire your holy wishes. In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue 72 That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord; Laf. He cannot want the best 80 Count. Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. [Exit. Ber. [To HELENA.] The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. 88 Laf. Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of your father. [Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU. Hel. O! were that all. I think not on my father; more 100 And these great tears grace his remembrance see Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. Enter PAROLLES. Par. Save you, fair queen! Hel. And no. Par. Are you meditating on virginity? 116 120 Hel. Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you; let me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how may we barricado it against him? Par. Keep him out. 126 Hel. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant in the defence, yet is weak. Unfold to us some war-like resistance. Par. There is none: man, sitting down before you, will undermine you and blow you up. 132 Hel. Bless our poor virginity from underminers and 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 preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational increase, and there was never virgin got till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once lost, may be ten times found: by being ever kept, it is ever lost. 'Tis too cold a companion: away with't! Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. 148 Par. There's little can be said in't; 'tis 96 against the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity is to accuse your mothers, which is most infallible disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: virginity murders itself, and should be buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese, consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by't! Out with't! within the year it will make itself two, which is a goodly increase, and the principal itself not much the worse. Away with't! Hel. How might one do, sir, to lose it to her 112 own liking? Par. Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a commodity that will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the less 105 164 worth: off with 't, while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion; richly suited, but unsuitable: just like the brooch and the toothpick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek: and your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French withered pears; it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, 'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet 'tis a withered pear. Will you anything with it? 180 Hel. Not my virginity yet. 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 faith, his sweet disaster; with a world Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms, 184 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. When thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast none, 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 236 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 241 His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, 188 To join like likes, and kiss like native things. That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he- Impossible be strange attempts to those That weigh their pains in sense, and do suppose Hel. That I wish well. 'Tis pity- 196 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, 200 And show what we alone must think, which SCENE II.- Paris. A Room in the KING'S Flourish of Cornets. Enter the KING OF FRANCE, with letters; Lords and Others attending. 223 King. What's he comes here? Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, First Lord. It is the Count Rousillon, my To give some labourers room. good lord, Young Bertram. Sec. Lord. Since the physician at your father's died? Some six months since, my lord. King. If he were living, I would try him yet: Lend me an arm: the rest have worn me out 73 With several applications: nature and sickness Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; My son's no dearer. Ber. Thank your majesty. 76 [Exeunt. Flourish. 56 Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses 60 All but new things disdain; whose judgments are Mere fathers of their garments; whose con stancies Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd: I, after him, do after him wish too, Clo. My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. 33 64 Count. Is this all your worship's reason? |