SCENE changes to the Court of France.

Flourish Cornets. Enter the King of France with letters, and divers Attendants.

King. TH

HE Florentines and Senoys are by th' 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 coufin Auftria;
With caution that the Florentine will move us
For fpeedy aid; wherein our dearest friend
Prejudicates the bufinefs, and would feem
To have us make denial.

1 Lord. His love and wisdom, Approv'd fo to your Majefty, may plead For ample credence.

King. He hath arm'd our answer ;
And Florence is deny'd, before he comes:
Yet for our gentlemen that mean to fee
The Tufcan fervice, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.

2 Lord. It may well serve

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'ft thy father's face.
Frank nature, rather curious than in hafte,
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 Majefty's.
King. I would I had that corporal foundness now,
As when thy father and myfelf in friendship

First try'd our foldiership: he did look far
Into the fervice of the time, and was
Difcipled of the brav'ft. He lafted long;
But on us both did haggish age fsteal 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 obferve
To day in our young lords; but they may jeft,
'Till their own scorn return to them unnoted,
Ere they can hide their levity in honour:
So like a courtier, no contempt or bitterness (3)
Were in him; pride or fharpness, if there were,
His equal had awak'd them; and his honour,
Clock to itself, knew the true minute when
Exceptions bid him speak; and at that 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 now demonftrate them

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 always fay,

(3) So like a Courtier, no Contempt or Bitterness

Were in his Pride or Sharpness; if they were,

His Equal bad awak'd them.] This Paffage feems fo very incorrectly pointed, that the Author's Meaning is loft in the Carelessness. As the Text and Stops are reform'd, these "He had no are most beautiful Lines, and the Senfe this

"Contempt or Bitterness; if he had any thing that look'd like "Pride or Sharpness, (of which Qualities Contempt and Bit"ternefs are the Exceffes,) his Equal had awak'd them, not "his Inferior; to whom he fcorn'd to discover any thing that "bore the Shadow of Pride or Sharpness."

Mr. Warburton.

(Methinks,

(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 judgments are
Meer fathers of their garments; whofe conftancies
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 diffolved from my hive,

To give fome labourers room.

2 Lord. You're loved, Sir;

They, that least lend it

you, fhall lack you firft. 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 me an arm; · the reft have worn me out. With feveral applications; nature and fickness Debate it at their leifure.

My fon's no dearer.

Welcome, count,.

Ber. Thank your Majefty.

[Flourish. [Exeunt..

SCENE changes to the Countess's at Roufillon..

Count:

I

Enter Countefs, Steward, and Clown.

Will now hear; what fay 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 paft endeavours; for then we wound our modefty, and make foul the clearness of our defervings, when of ourselves we publish them..

Count. What does this knave here ? get you gone,

Sirrah ::

Sirrah the complaints I have heard of you, I do not all believe; 'tis my flowness that I do not, for, I know, you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability enough to make fuch knaveries yours.

Clo. "Tis not unknown to you, Madam, I am a poor fellow.

Count. Well, Sir.

Clo. No, Madam; 'tis not fo well that I am poor, tho' many of the rich are damn'd; but, if I have your ladyship's good will to go to the world, 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 cafe?

Clo. In Isbel's cafe, and mine own; fervice is no he ritage, and, I think, I fhall never have the bleffing of God, 'till I have iffue of my body; for they fay, bearns. are bleffings.

Count. Tell me thy reafon why thou wilt marry.

Clo. My poor body, Madam, requires it. I am driven on by the flesh; and he muft needs go, that the devil drives.

Count. Is this all your worship's reason?

Clo. Faith, Madam, I have other holy reasons, fuch as they are.

Count. May the world know them?

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. fooner than thy wickedness. Clo. I am out of friends, Madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife's fake.

Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

Clo. Y'are fhallow, Madam, in great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am weary of; he that eares my land, fpares my team, and gives me leave to inne 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 cherisheth my flesh and. blood, loves my flesh and blood; he, that loves my

flesh

flesh and blood, is my friend: ergo, he, that kiffes 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 Poyfam the papift, howfoe'er their hearts are fever'd in religion, their heads are both one; they may joul horns together, like any deer i' th' herd.

Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calumnious knave?

Clo. A prophet, I, Madam; and I fpeak the truth the next way;

"For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true "fhall find;

"Your marriage comes by destiny, your cuckow fings 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 fpeak.

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

Clo. "Was this fair face the caufe, quoth fhe, (4)

Why the Grecians facked Troy?

Fond done, fond done ;

for Paris, he,

(4) Was this fair Face the Caufe, quoth She,

Why the Grecians facked Troy?

[Singing

Was this King Priam's Joy?] As the Stanza, that follows, is in alternate Rhyme, and as a Rhyme is here wanting to Sbe in the firft Verfe; 'tis evident, the third Line is wanting. The old Folio's give Us a Part of it; but how to supply the loft Part, was the Question. Mr. Rowe has given us the Frag ment honeftly, as he found it: but Mr. Pope, rather than to feem founder'd, has funk it upon Us.- I communicated to my ingenious Friend Mr. Warburton, how I found the Paffage in the old Books;

[Fond done, done, fond,

Was this King Priam's Joy?]

And from Him I received that Supplement, which I have given to the Text. And the Hiftorians tell us, it was Paris who was Priam's favourite Son.

"Was