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Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
Hel. That I wish well.-"Tis pity-
Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't,
Enter a PAGE.
Page. Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. [Exit PAGE. Par. Little Helen, farewell: if I can remember thee, 1 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.
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 capablet 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.
Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
*I. e. and show by realities what we now must only think.
+ Things formed by nature for each other.
Impossible be strange attempts, to those
King. The Florentines and Senoys* are by the ears;
1 Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir,
King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it
SCENE II.-Paris. A Room in the King's Palace.
Flourish of Cornets. Enter the KING OF FRANCE, with letters; LORDS, and others attending.
1 Lord. His love and wisdom, Approved so to your majesty, may plead For amplest credence.
King. He hath arm'd our answer,
2 Lord. It may well serve
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;
Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's.
To talk of your good father: In his youth
In their poor praise he humbled: Such a man
Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now
Ber. His good remembrance, Sir,
Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb;
King. Would I were with him! He would always say
To give some labourers room.
2 Lord. You are loved, Sir;
They, that least lend it you, shall lack you first.
Ber. Some six months since, my lord.
King. If he were living, I would try him yet;-
Ber. Thank your majesty.
* Who are mere inventors of dress.
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 1 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 deservings, when of ourselves we publish them.
Count. What does this knave here? Get you gore, sirrah: The complaints, I have heard of you, I do not at all believe; 'tis my slowness, 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.
Clo. No, Madam, 'tis not so well, that I am poor; though many of the rich are damned: 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?
Clo. I do beg your good-will in this case.
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, such as they
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 sake.
Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
Clo. You are shallow, Madam; e'en great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me which I am a-weary of. He that ears§ my land, spares my team, and gives me leave to inn the 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 cherishes my flesh and blood, loves my flesh and blood; he, that loves my 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 Poysam the 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 foul-mouthed and calumnious knave?
*To act up to your desire.
+ To be married.
Clo. A prophet I, Madam; and I speak the truth the next way:*
For I the ballad will repeat,
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. Sirra tell my gentlewoman, I would speak with her; Helen, I mean.
Clo. Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, [Singing.
Was this king Priam's joy?
And gave this sentence then;
Count. What, one good in ten ? you corrupt the song, sirrah. Clo. One good woman in ten, Madam; which is a purifying o' the song: "Would God would serve the world so all the year we'd find no fault with the tithe-woman, if I were the parson: One in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good woman born but for 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 should be at woman's command, and yet no hurt done!-Though honesty be no puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart.-I am going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. [Exit CLOWN.
Count. Well, now.
Stew. I know, Madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. Count. Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and she herself, without other advantage, 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 she'll demand.
Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her than, I think, she wished me alone she was, and did communicate to herself, her own words to her own ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put such difference betwixt their two estates; Love, no god, that would not extend his might, only where qualities were level; Diana, no queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surprised,
*The nearest way.
✰ (To be.)
+ Foolishly done.