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BER. Madam, I desire your holy wishes.
LAF. How understand we that?
COUNT. Be thou bless'd, Bertram ! and succeed thy father

In manners, as in shape! thy blood, and virtue,
Contend for empire in thee; and thy goodness
Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none : be able for thine enemy
Rather in power than use; and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key : be check'd for silence,
But never tax'd for speech. What Heaven more will,
That thee may furnish, and my prayers pluck down,
Fall on thy head! Farewell.—My lord,
'T is an unseason'd courtier ; good my lord,

Advise him.
LAF.

He cannot want the best
That shall attend his love.
COUNT. Heaven bless him !-Farewell, Bertram.

[Exit. BER. The best wishes that can be forged in your thoughts [to HELENA) be

servants to you! Be comfortable to my mother, your mistress, and make

much of her. 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;

And these great tears grace his remembrance more
Than those I shed for him. What was he like?
I have forgot him: my imagination
Carries no favour in 't but Bertram's.
I am undone ; there is no living, none,
If Bertram be away. It were all one
That I should love a bright particular star,
And think to wed it, he is so above me:
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
The ambition in my love thus plagues itself :
The hind that would be mated by the lion
Must die for love. 'T was pretty, though a plague,
To see him every hour; to sit and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, bis curls,
In our heart's tableb; heart too capable
Of every line and trick c of his sweet favourd:

The “great tears” which the departure of Bertram causes her to shed, being imputed to her grief for her father, grace his remembrance more than those which she really shed for him.

Table—the tabular surface, tablet, upon which a picture is painted, and thence used for the picture itself.

Trick-peculiarity. See Note on 'King John,' Act I., Scene 1. d Favour-countenance.

But now he's gone,

and
my

idolatrous fancy Must sanctify his relics. Who comes here?

Enter PAROLLES.

One that goes with him: I love him for his sake :
And yet I know him a notorious liar,
Think him a great way fool, solely a coward :
Yet these fix'd evils sit so fit in him,
That they take place, when virtue's steely bones
Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see

Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly
PAR. Save you, fair queen.
HEL. And you, monarcha
PAR. No.
HEL. And no.
PAR. Are you meditating on virginity?
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.
HEL. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant in the defence, yet is

weak: unfold to us some warlike resistance. Par. There is none · man, sitting down before you, will undermine you, and

blow you up

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: 't is too cold a companion; away with 't. Hel. I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. Par. There's little can be said in 't ; 't is 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 · Monarch. When Parolles calls Helena “ queen,” she answers by a sarcastic allusion to the Monarcho-an Italian who figured in London about 1580, possessed with the notion that he was sovereign of the world. (See • Love's Labour's Lost,' Act IV., Scene 1.)

Stain-tincture;-you have some slight mark of the soldier about you.

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is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by 't: Out with 't: within ten 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 own liking ? Par. Let me see: Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. 'T is a com

modity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept the less worth: off with 't, while 't is 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, 't is a withered pear; it was formerly better ; marry, yet, 't is a

withered pear: Will you anything with it b? HEL. Not my virginity yet.

There, shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,
A phenix, captain, and an enemy,
A guide, & goddess, and a sovereiga,
A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;
His humble ambition, proud humility,
His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his sweet disaster: with a world
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-
I know not what he shall:-God send him well!

The court 's a learning-place ;-and he is one-
Par. What one, i' faith?
HEL. That I wish well. —'T is pity-
Par. What 's pity?
HEL. That wishing well bad 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.

• We print the text as in the folio. It is not worth discussing whether the word two of the original should not be ten, as it is commonly read.

• Hanmer makes Helena say, “You're for the court,” before she goes on, “There, shall your master," &c. It is scarcely necessary that her slight answer to the random talk of Parolles should have any connection with her subsequent speech. She has been abstracted during this dialogue, and now her thoughts are clothed in words.

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 naturalise thee, 80 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
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.
Impossible be strange attempts to those
That weigh their pains 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.

[Exit.

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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 't is reported, sir.
KING. Nay, 't is 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 well may 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 compos'd 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,
First tried 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

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