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brooch and the cooth-pick, which we wear not now : your date is better in your pye and your porridge, thart in your cheek; and your virginiry, your old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd pears; it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, 'eis a wither'd pcar: it was former ly Betcer'; marry, yer 'tis a' withered pear. Will you any thing with it?
Hel. Not my virginity yet.
Par. What one, i'faith?
Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't,
[Exit Page. Par. Little Helen, farewel; 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. The wars have kept you so under, that you must needs be born under Mars.
Par. When he was predominant.
Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes 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, as 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 Courtiers counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee ; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away; farewel. When thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast none, remember thy friends; get thçe a good husband, and use him as he uses theç : lo 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 designs, when we our selvęs are dull. What power is it, which mounts my love so high, That makes me fee, 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 pain in sense ; and do fuppose, What hath been, cannot be. Who ever strove To thew 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.
SCENE changes to the Court of France. Flourish Cornets. Enter the King of France with letters,
and divers attendants.
King. THE Florentines and Senoys are by the cars ;
, continue A braving war.
i Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir.
King. Nay, 'tis most credible ; we here receive it,
i Lord. His love and wisdom, Approv'd fo to your Majesty, may plead For ample credence.
King. He hath arm’d our answer;
2 Lord. It may well serye
Enter Bertram, Lafeu and Parolles.
King. Youth, thou bear'st thy Father's face.
Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majesty's.
King. I would, I had that corporal soundness now, As when thy Father and my self in friendship
First try'd our soldiership: 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 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, 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 demonstrate 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
say, (Methinks, I hear him now; his plausive words
(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 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 Bitterness are the Excesses,) his “ Equal had awaked them, not his Inferior ; to whom he scorn'd to ! discover any thing that bore the Shadow of Pride or Sharpness.
He scatter'd not in cars, but grafted them
2 Lord. You're loved, Şir;
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, lince, my Lord.
King. If he were living, I would try him yet; Lend me an arm ;
the rest have worn me out With several applications ; Nature and Sicknofs Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, Count, My son's no dearer.
Ber. Thank your Majetty. [Flourish, Exeunt.
SCENE changes to the Countess's at Rou
Enter Countess, Steward and Clown. Count.
I ; ,
Will now hear; what say you of this gentleStew. 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 (5) For then we wound our Modesty, and make
foul the Clearness of sur Deservings, when of Our selves we publish them.] This Sentiment our Author has again inculcated in his Troilus and Crellida.