Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull SCENE TI. Paris. A room in the King's palace. [Exit. Florish of cornets. Enter KING OF FRANCE, with letters; Lords and others attending. King. The Florentines and Senoys 2 are by the ears; Have fought with equal fortune, and continue A braving war. 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 us Things formed by nature for each other. The inhabitants of a small republic, of which Sienna is the capital. For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend 1 Lord. His love and wisdom, Approved so to your majesty, may plead King. He hath arm'd our answer, 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 Mayst 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 1 But on us both did haggish age steal on, He had the wit, which I can well observe 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 demonstrate them now But goers backward. Ber. His good remembrance, sir, Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb); So in approof 3 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 He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, 1 Renovates. 2 Its. 3 Approbation. To grow there, and to bear)—Let me not live,—' On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses I, after him, do after him wish too, Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, To give some laborers room. 2 Lord. You are 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 famed. Ber. 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 With several applications :-nature and sickness Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; My son's no dearer. Ber. Thank your majesty. [Exeunt. Florish. Merely inventors of new modes 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 I have had to even your content,1 I wish might be found in the calendar of my past endeavors; 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 gone, sirrah. The complaints, I have heard of you, I do not 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. Clown. 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. Count. Well, sir. Clown. No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though many of the rich are damned: but, it 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? Clown. I do beg your good will in this case. 1 To act up to your desires. 2 To be married. |