likes. 'Tis a commodity will lofe the glofs with lying; the longer kept, the lefs worth: off with't, while 'tis vendible: answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion; richly fuited, but unfuitable: juft like the brooch and tooth-pick, which wear not now: Your date is better in your pye and your porridge, than in your cheek: And your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd pears; it looks ill, it eats dryly; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet, 'tis a wither'd pear: Will you any thing with it?

Hel. Not my virginity yet.

There shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,

A phoenix, captain, and an enemy,
A guide, a goddess, and a fovereign,
A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;
His humble ambition, proud humility,
His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his fweet difafter; with a world
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
That blinking Cupid goffips. Now fhall he
I know not what he shall :-God fend him well!-
The court's a learning-place ;—and he is one-
Par. What one, 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 fhut us up in withes,

Might with effects of them follow our friends,
And show what we alone must think; which never
Returns us thanks.

Enter

Enter a Page.

Page. Monfieur 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. Monfieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable ftar.

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 Märs.

Par. When he was predominant.

Hel. When he was retrograde, I think, rather.

Par. Why think you so ?

Hel. You go fo much backward, when you fight.
Par. That's for advantage.

Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes the fafety: 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 fo full of bufineffes, I cannot answer thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my inftruction fhall ferve to naturalize thee, fo thou wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand what advice fhall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When thou haft leifure, fay thy prayers; when thou haft 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 afcribe to heaven: the fated sky` Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull Our flow defigns, when we ourselves are dull.

What power is it, which mounts my love fo 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.
Impoffible be strange attempts, to those
That weigh their pains in fenfe; and do fuppofe,
What hath been cannot be: Who ever ftrove
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.

SCENE II.

Paris. A Room in the King's Palace.

fran fer

Y to our thing and

Enter BERT

[Exit. It is the

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, fir.

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.

I Lord.

His love and wisdom,

He hath arm'd our answer,

Approv'd fo to your majesty, may plead
For ampleft credence.

King.

And Florence is denied before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen, that mean to see

The

Bertram.

well

Y

nature, rath compos thou inheri

My thanks

. I would I hen thy fathe try'd our fol the fervice of pled of the b on us both dia wore us out

talk of your g had the wit, wh

day in our you

their own fcor they can hide

like a courtier,

ere in his pride s equal had awak ock to itfelf, kn Exception bid him

is tongue obey'

The Tuscan service, freely have they leave

To ftand on either part.

2 Lord.

It may well ferve

A nursery to our gentry, who are fick

For breathing and exploit.

King.

What's he comes here?

Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES.

1 Lord. It is the count Roufillon, my good lord, Young Bertram.

King.
Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face ;
Frank nature, rather curious than in hafte,

Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral parts
May'ft thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.

Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's.
King. I would I had that corporal foundness now,
As when thy father, and myself, in friendship
First try'd our foldiership! He did look far
Into the fervice 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 jeft,
Till their own fcorn 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

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 démonftrate them now
But goers backward.

Ber.

His good remembrance, fir,

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 fay, (Methinks, I hear him now; his plaufive words

He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them,

To grow there, and 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 fnuff
Of younger fpirits, whofe apprehenfive fenfes
All but new things difdain; whofe judgements are
Mere fathers of their garments; whofe conftancies
Expire before their fashions :- -This he wifh'd:

I, after him, do after him wish too,

Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home,

I quickly were diffolved from my hive,

To give fome labourers room.

2 Lord.

You are lov'd, fir;

They, that least lend it you, fhall lack you first.

King. I fill a place, I know't.-How long is't, count, Since the phyfician at your father's died? ̧

He was much fam'd.

Ber.

Some fix months fince, my lord.

King, If he were living, I would try him yet ;

Lend