Laf. He hath abandon'd his physicians, Madam, under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope; and finds no other advantage in the process, but only the lofing of hope by time. Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (O, that had! how fad a presage 'tis !), whose skill was almost as great as his honesty; had it stretch'd so far, it would have made nature immortal, and death should have play'd for lack of work. 'Would, for the King's fake, he were living! I think it would be the death of the King's disease. Laf. How call'd you the man you speak of, Madam? Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profession, and it was his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. Laf. He was excellent, indeed, Madam; the King very lately spoke of him admiringly, and mourningly: he was skilful enough to have liv'd still, if knowledge could be fet up against mortality. Ber. What is it, my good Lord, the King languishes of? Laf. A fiftula, my Lord. Ber. I heard not of it before. < Laf. I would it were not notorious. Was this gentle woman the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? Count. His fole child, my Lord, and bequeathed to my overlooking. I have those hopes of her good, that her education promifes her: disposition the inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities *, there commendations go with pity; they are virtues and traitors too: in her they are the better for her fimpleness; she derives her honesty, and atchieves her goodness. Laf. Your commendations, Madam, get from her tears. Count. 'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise in. The remembrance of her father never approaches her heart, but the tyranny of her forrows takes all livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, By virtuous qualities here are not meant those of a moral kind, but fuch as are acquired by erudition and good breeding, Helena; go to, no more; left it be rather thought you affect a forrow, than to have it. Hel. I do affect a forrow, indeed, but I have it too. Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, exceffive grief the enemy to the living. Count. If the living be not enemy to the grief, the excess makes it foon mortal. Ber. Madam, I defire your holy wishes. Count. Be thou blefs'd, Bertram, and succeed, thy father In manners as in shape! thy blood and virtue Laf. He cannot want the best, Count. Heav'n bless him! Farewel, Bertram. [Exit Countess. Ber. [To Hel.] The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoughts, be servants to you! Be comfortable to my mother your mistress, and make much of her. Laf. Farewel, pretty Lady, you must hold the credit of your father. [Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu. SCENE II. Hel. Oh, were that all! I think not on my fa ther; And these great tears grace his remembrance more That I should love a bright partic'lar star, Enter Parolles. 4 One that goes with him: I love him for his fake, " And yet I know him a notorious lyar; "Think him a great way fool, folely a coward; "Yet these fix'd evils fit so fit in him, "That they take place, when Virtue's steely bones "Look bleak in the cold wind;" full oft we fee Cold * Wifdom waiting on fuperfluous Folly. SCENE Par. Save you, fair Queen. Hel. And you, Monarch. Par. No. Hel. And no. III. Par. Are you meditating on virginity? Hel. Ay; you have fome stain + of foldier in you; let me afk you a question. Man is enemy to virginity, how may we barricado it against him ? Par. Keep him out. Hel. But he affails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us fome warlike refiftance. Par. There is none: man, setting down before you, will undermine you, and blow you up. Hel. Bless our poor virginity from underminers and * Cold for naked; as fuperfluous for over-cloth'd. + Stain for colour. ! 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 loft. That you were made of, is metal to make virgins. Virginity, by being once loft, may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is ever loft; it 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 faid in 't; 'tis against the rule of nature. To fpeak on the part of virginity, is to accuse your mother; which is most infallible disobedience. As he that hangs himself, so is a virgin : Virginity murthers itself, and should be buried in highways out of all sanctified limit, as a defperate offen• dress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese; confumes itself to the very paring, and • so dies with feeding its own stomach. Befides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love; • which is the most prohibited fin in the canon. Keep it not, you cannot chuse but lose by 't. Out with 't; ⚫ within ten years 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 fee. Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a commodity will lofe the glofs with lying. The longer kept, the less worth; off with't while 'tis vendible. Answer the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of fashion; richly futed, but unfutable: just like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which we 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 drily; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear: it was formerly bet ter; marry, yet 'tis a wither'd pear. Will you any thing with it? Hel. Not my virginity yet. Hel. That I wish well 'tis pity- Hel. That wishing well had not a body in 't Enter Page. Page. Monfieur Parolles, My Lord calls for you. 1 [Exit Page. Par. Little Helen, farewel; if I can remember thee, I will think of thee at court. Hel. Moufieur Parolles, you were born under a cha ritable star. Par. Under Mars, I. Hel. I especially think under Mars. Par. Why under Mars ? Hel. The wars have kept you so 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 fo? Hel. You go fo much backward, when you fight. * - and a friend, A phœnix, 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 difcord dulcet; |