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 handa: 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 b: Such a man
Might be a copy to these younger times;

Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now
But goers backward.

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,

To grow there, and to bear4,)—"Let me not live,"
This his good melancholy oft began,

On the catastrophe and heel of pastime,

When it was out,-" Let me not live," quoth he,

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.

• The metaphor of a "clock" is continued; his tongue, in speaking what " exception" bade

him, obeyed the hand of honour's clock-his hand being put for its hand.

Malone deems the construction to be, "in their poor praise he being humbled.”

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.

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, 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 gone, sirrah: The complaints I have heard of you I do not all believe; 't is 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 5.

CLO. T is not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow.

COUNT. Well, sir.

CLO. No, madam, 't is 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 worlda, 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.

COUNT. In what 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 o' my body; for, they say,

barnes 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 are.

COUNT. May the world know them?

In 'Much Ado about Nothing' (Act II., Scene 1), Beatrice says, "Thus goes every one to the world but I." The commentators explain the phrase of Beatrice by the Clown's speech in the text, and say that "to go to the world" is to be married. It appears to us that the Clown asks his freedom when he begs her ladyship's "good-will to go to the world." The domestic fool was ordinarily in the condition of a slave, and was sold or given away. The Clown here adds, "Service is no heritage." And yet, "to go to the world" may also mean to marry-as we still say, to settle in the world. A son or daughter, having the paternal leave to marry, goes to the world, in the sense of encountering its responsibilities.

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 o' friends, madam; and I hope to have friends for my wife's sake. COUNT. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

CLO. You 're shallow, madam, in great friends a; 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 in 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, howsome'er their hearts are severed in religion, their heads are both one,-they may jowl horns together, like any deer i' the herd.

COUNT. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calumnious knave?
CLO. A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next way b:

For I the ballad will repeat,

Which men full true shall find;
Your marriage comes by destiny,
Your cuckoo sings by kind.

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. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; Helen I mean. CLO.

Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,

Why the Grecians sacked Troy?

Fond done, done fond,

Was this king Priam's joy?

With that she sighed as she stood,
With that she sighed as she stood,
And gave this sentence then ;
Among nine bad if one be good,
Among nine bad if one be good,
There's yet one good in ten.

COUNT. What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah.

[Singing.

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

In great friends. So the original. The modern reading is e'en great friends. Surely no alteration is necessary; the meaning clearly being-You are shallow in the matter of great friends. The next way-the nearest way.

The mention of Helen is associated in the mind of the Clown with some popular ballad on the war of Troy.

woman, if I were the parson: One in ten, quoth a'! ana we might have a good woman born but forb every blazing star, or at an earthquake, 't would mend the lottery well; a man may draw his heart out, ere a 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.

COUNT. Well, now.

[Exit.

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, without rescue in the first assault, or ransom afterwards: This she delivered in the most bitter touch of sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I held my duty, speedily to acquaint you withal; sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns you something to know it.

COUNT. You have discharged this honestly; keep it to yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this before, which hung so tottering in the balance, that I could neither believe, nor misdoubt: Pray you, leave me: stall this in your bosom, and I thank you for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon. [Exit Steward.

Enter HELENA.

COUNT. Even so it was with me when I was young:

If everd we are nature's, these are ours: this thorn

Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong:

Our blood to us, this to our blood is born;

And, of the original, we think should be an; and have altered it accordingly. For. The original reads ore. Steevens omits the word altogether. The slight correction of for appears to us to give a sense. Malone reads or, in the sense of before. We are happy in this emendation to have the approval of Mr. Dyce.

⚫ The passage in the original stands thus:-" Love, no god, that would not extend his might only where qualities were level; queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surprised without rescue," &c. The introduction of "Diana no" was made by Theobald. He also added "to be" before "surprised." Mr. Dyce gives a passage from Drayton, to show that this insertion is unnecessary, according to the construction of our early writers:

Ever. This word was omitted by Pope, and has been constantly omitted in modern editions.

It is the show and seal of nature's truth,

Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth:

By our remembrances of days foregone,

Such were our faults;-or then we thought them none.
Her eye is sick on 't; I observe her now.

HEL. What is your pleasure, madam?

COUNT. You know, Helen, I am a mother to you.
HEL. Mine honourable mistress.

COUNT.

Nay, a mother;
Why not a mother? When I said, a mother,
Methought you saw a serpent: What's in mother
That you start at it? I say, I am your mother;
And put you in the catalogue of those
That were enwombed mine: T is often seen,
Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds
A native slip to us from foreign seeds:
You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan,
Yet I express to you a mother's care: —
God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood
To say, I am thy mother? What's the matter,
That this distempered messenger of wet,
The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye?
Why?-that you are my daughter?

HEL.

COUNT. I say, I am your mother.
HEL.

That I am not.

Pardon, madam;

The count Rousillon cannot be my brother:
I am from humble, he from honoured name;
No note upon my parents, his all noble:
My master, my dear lord he is: and I
His servant live, and will his vassal die:
He must not be my brother.

COUNT.

Nor I your mother?
HEL. You are my mother, madam. ('Would you were
So that my lord, your son, were not my brother.)
Indeed, my mother!—(Or were you both our mothers,
I care no more for than I do for heaven,

So I were not his sister a.) Can't be other

But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? COUNT. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law: God shield, you mean it not! daughter, and mother, So strive upon your pulse: What, pale again?

We venture to point this very difficult passage differently from the received mode. It appears to us that the passages which we give between parentheses are spoken half aside. Farmer explains that "I care no more for" means "I care as much for."