And show what we alone must think ;1 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 thee, so 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, (1) i. e. And show by realities what we now must only think. (2) i. e. Thou wilt comprehend it. Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky King. The Florentines and Senoys2 are by the ears; Have fought with equal fortune, and continue 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 (1) Things formed by nature for each other. (2) The citizens of the small republic of which Sienna is the capital. It may well serve To stand on either part. A nursery to our gentry, who are sick 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 May'st thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's. And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, In their poor praise he humbled: Such a man (1) To repair, here signifies to renovate. 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 approof1 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 On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, I, after him, do after him wish too, Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home, 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? 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. (1) Approbation. Thank your majesty. Flourish. (2) Who have no other use of their faculties than to invent 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, 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, 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. Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. Count. Well, sir. Clo. No, madam, 'tis 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 world,2 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. Service Clo. In Isbel's case, and mine own. is no heritage and, I think, I shall never have the blessing of God, till I have issue of my body; for, they say, bearns3 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? (1) To act up to your desires. To be married. (3) Children. |