The court's a learning-place;-and he is one

Par. What oue, i'faith?

Hel. That I wish well.-'Tis pity

Par. What's pity?

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, And show what we alone must think*; which never Returns us thanks.

Enter a Page.

Page. Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. [Exit Page. Par. Little Helen, farewell: 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. 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.
Par. That's for advantage.

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

i. e. And show by realities what we now must only think.

thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thiue 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
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
To join like likes, and kiss like native things t.
Impossible be strange attempts, to those

That weigh their paius in sense; and do suppose,
What hath been cannot be: Who ever strove
To show 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,

i. c. Thou wilt comprehend it.

+ Things formed by nature for each other.

[Exit.

SCENE II.

Paris. A room in the King's palace.

Flourish of cornets. Enter the King of France, with letters; Lords and others attending.

King. The Florentines and Senoys* 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 For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend Prejudicates the business, and would seem To have us make denial.

1 Lord.

His love and wisdom,

Approv'd so to your majesty, may plead
For amplest credence.

King.

He hath arm'd our answer,

And Florence is denied before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen, that mean to see
The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.

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.

The citizens of the small republic of which Sienna is the capital.

King.
Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,

Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;

Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts May'st 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
First try'd our soldiership! He did look far
Into the service of the time, and was
Discipled of the bravest: 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, contempt nor bitterness
Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
His equal had awak'd them; and his honour,
Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
Exception bid him speak, and, at this 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 démonstrate them now

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 al

ways say,

(Methinks, I hear him now; his plausive words

To repair here signifies to renovate.

His is put for its.

+ Approbation.

He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them,
To grow there, aud to bear),—Let me not live,-
Thus his good melancholy oft began,

On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,
When it was out,-let me not live, quoth he,
After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff

Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses
All but new things disdain: whose judgements are
Mere 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 some labourers room.

2 Lord.

You are lov'd, 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 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. Flourish.

Who have no other use of their faculties than to

invent new modes of dress.