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Par. That's for advantage.
Hel. So is running away, when fear proposes safetya 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, as I cannot answer thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my instruction shall ferve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of courtier's counfel, and under stand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diel in thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When thou haft leisure, fay thy prayers; when thou haft- none, remember thy friends, get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: fa farewell.
is it which mounts my love fo high,
like likes, and kiss like native things.
Changes to the court of France. Flourish cornets. Enter the King of France with letters,
and divers attendants. King. The Florentines and Senoys are by th' ears, Have fought with equal fortune, and continue A braving war. i Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir.
King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it,
i Lord. His love and wisdom, Approv'd fo to your Majesty, may plead For ample credence.
King. He hath arm'd our answer;
2 Lord. It may well serve
Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles. i Lord. It is the Count Roufilloni, my good Lord, Young Bertram.
King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face.
Ber. My thanks and dirty are your Majesty's.
King. I would I had that corporal foundness now,
It much repairs me
Clock to itself; knew the true minute when
Ber. His good remembrance, Sir,
King. Would I were with him! he would always say,
grow there, and to bear,) Let me not livemman
quickly were diffolved from my hive, To give some labourer room.
2 Lord. You're loved, Sir;
King, I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, Count,
Ber. Thank your Majesty.
[Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE VI. Changes to the Countess's at Rousillon.
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,
fir. rah: the complaints I have heard of you, I do not all believe; 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know
lack not fully 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, tho' many
of the rich are damn'd; but if I have your Ladyship's good-will to go to the world, Ilbel the woman and I will do as we may.
Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
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 of my body; for they say, bearns are. blessings.
Count. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry.
Clo. My poor body, Madam, requires it. l'am driven on by the fielh; 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?
Clo. I have been, Madam, a wicked creature, as you and all felh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry, that I may repent. Count. Thy marriage sooner than thy wickedness.
Colo. I am out of friends, Madam, and I hope to have friends for my wife's sake.
Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.
Clo. Y' are shallow, Madam, in great friends; for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am weary of. He that ears my lands, spares 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 Aesh and blood; he that cherisheth my flesh and blood, loves
flesh and blood, is my friend: ergo, hé that kisses' my wife, is my friend. If men could be contented to be what they are, there were no fear in marriage: fur young Charbon the Puritan, and old. Poyfon the Papist, howsoe'er their hearts are sever'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?
Cl. A prophet, I, Madam; and I speak the truth the
« For I the ballad will repeat, which men full true shall
" sind: " Your marriage comes by destiny, your cuckow sings by
« kind.” Count. Get you gone, Sir, I'll talk with you more
Steur. 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 fhe;
[Singing. Why the Grecians facked Troy? "Fond done, fond done; for Paris, he, " Was this King Priam's joy. "With that she fighed as she stood, gave
this fentence then; " Among nine bad if one be good, " There's yet one good in ten.”
Count. What, one good in ten! You corrupt the song, lrrah.