That weigh their pain in fense; and do suppose,
What hath been cannot be: Whoever ftrove
To fhew 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.

S C CENE II.

The Court of France.

[Exit.

Flourish cornets. Enter the King of France, with Letters, and divers attendants.

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 moft 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,
Approv'd fo to your majesty, may plead
For ampleft 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 Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand 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

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 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 service 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 jest,
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 fpeak, and, at that time,
His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him
He us'd as creatures of another place;

but they may jeft, &c.]-they may deal out their fund of fatire, till the fhafts, unfelt, recoil upon themselves, before they will be able to temper it with that winning gracefulness, which marked his happy vein. in his pride or fharpness;]-dignity of manner, or keenness of

his ftrokes.

i of another place; &c.]-as if they had been his equals; and though fuch condefcenfion gave them a better opinion of themselves, yet their acknowledgments of it ferved only to encrease his humility.

And

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 demonftrate 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 paftime,
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
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 labourer room.

So in &c.]-His epitaph bears not so strong a teftimony to his fame, as does your majesty's commendation-" So his approof-in epitaph"it contains not fuch encomiums.

I apprehenfive fenfes]-faftidious taste.

m

Mere fathers of their garments; whofe conftancies expire]—are em ployed folely in inventing new modes of drefs; whofe fancies change"Some jay of Italy

"Whose mother was her painting.'

CYMBELINE, A&t I, S. 4. Imo.

2 Lord.

2 Lord. You are lov'd, fir;

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

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.

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 several applications-nature and sickness

Debate it at their leifure. Welcome, count;

Enter Countefs, Steward, and Clown.

Count. I will now hear what you fay of this gentle

woman.

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 modefty, and make foul the clearness of our defervings, when of ourselves we publish them.

Count. What does this knave here? Get you gone, firrah: 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, that I am a poor fellow.

to even your content,]—give you fatisfaction.

⚫ to commit them, &c.]-to put you upon attemping fuch knaveries, and have ability enough for their accomplishment.

Count.

Count. Well, fir.

Clo. No, madam, 'tis not fo well, that I am poor;' though many of the rich are damn'd: But, if I may have your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Ifbel 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 cafe.

Count. In what cafe?

Clo. In Ifbel's cafe, and mine own. Service is no heritage and, I think, I fhall never have the bleffing of God, till I have iffue of my body; for, they say, 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 must needs go, that the devil drives.

Count. Is this all your worship's reafon ?

Clo. Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such 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

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. You are fhallow, madam; ev'n great friends: for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am a weary of. He, that ears my land, fpares my team, and gives me leave to inn the crop if I be his cuckold, he's my

P good will to go to the world,]-confent to marry.

4 are fhallow, not in the fecret, mistaken.

ears]-tills.

drudge: