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DRAMATIS PERSON Æ. King of France. U Countess of Roufllon, mother Duke of Florence.

to Bertram. Bertram, Count of Rousillon. | Helena, daughter to Gerard Lafeu, an old Lord.

de Narbon, a famous phyParoltes, a parafitical fol fician,some time since dead. lower of Bertram; a cow

An old widow of Florence.) ard, but vain, and a great Diana, daughter, to the wipretender to valour.

dow. Several young French Lords, Violenta, S neighbours and in the Florentine war.

friends to the

Mariana, widow.

fervants to the
Countess of Rou-Lords, attending on the King,

Officers, Soldiers, &c. SCENE, lies, partly in France, and partly in Tuscany.

Clown, Sillon

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The Countess of Roufillon's house in France. . Enter Bertram, the Countess of Roufillon, Helena,

and Lafeu, all in mourning. Countess. N diiserering my so nfrom me, I bury a

second husband.

Ber. And I in going, Madam, weep o'er my father's death anew; but I must attend his Majesty's command, to whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection.

Laf. You shall find of the King a husband, Madam; you, Sir, a father. He that so generally is at all tines good, must of necessity hold his virtue to you ; whose worthiness would ftir it up where it wanted, rather than flack it where there is such abundance.

Count. What hope is there of his Majesty's amendment? * She plot taken from Boccace, Decam. 3. Nov.9.


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Laf. He hath abandon'd his phyficians, Madam, under whose practices he hath persecuted time with hope, and finds no other advantage in the process, but only the losing of hope by time.

Count. This young gentlewoman had a father, (0 that had! how fad a presage 'tis !), whose skill was almost as great as his honesty ; had it stretchd 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 difeafe.

Laf. How call'd you the man you speak of, Madam?

Count. He was famous, Sir, in his profeffion, and it was his great right to be fo: 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 set 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

gentlewoman 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 : difpofition the inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where an : unclean mind carries virtuous qualities *, there commendations go with pity; they are virtues and trai. tors too : in her they are the better for her simpleness; 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.

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* By virtuous quali:ics here are not meant those of a moral kind, but such as are acquired by erudition and good breeding,


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Helena; go to, no more ; left it be rather thought you affe&t a forrow, than to haïc is.'

Hel. I do affect a forrow, indeed, but I have it too.

Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, excesive grief the enemy to the living.

Gount. If the living be not enemy to the grief, the excess makes it soon mortal.

Ber. Madam, I defire your holy wishes... 1.9TS:
Laf. How understand we that ?
Ber. Be thou bless’d, Bertram, and fucceed thye

In manners as in shape ! thy blood and virtue
Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness
Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few,
Do wrong to none : be able for thine enemy
Rather in power, than use; and keep thy friend
Under thy own life's key : be check'd for filence,
But never tax'd for speech. What heav'n more will,
That thee may furnish, and my pray’rs pluck down,
Fall on thy head; farewel, my Lord;
'Tis an unseason'd courtier, good my Lord, ..
Advise him.

Laf. He cannot want the best,
That shall attend his love.
Count. Heav'n bless him ! Farewel, Bertram.

[Exit Conntefs. Ber. [To Hel.] The best wishes that can be forge'd in your thoughts, he fervants to you? Be confortable to my mother your miftress, and make much of her.

Laf. Farewell, pretty Lady, you must hold the cre-rri dit of your father. [Exeunt Bertram and Lafeu.

S C E NE II. Hel. Oh, were that all !- I think not on my fa

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And these great tears' grace his remembrance more
Than those I shed for him. What was he like?
I have forgot him. My imagination
Carries no favour in it, but iny Bertram's.
I am undone, there is no living, nóne,
If Bertram be away. It were all one,


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That I should love a bright partic'lar star,
And think to wed it; he is so above me :
In his bright radiance and collateral light
Must I be comforted, not in his sphere.
Th' ambition in my love thus plagues itself;
The hind that would be mated by the lion,
Mult die for love. 'Twas pretty, though a plague,
To see him every hour; to fit, and draw
His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls,
In our heart's table; heart too capable
Of every line and trick of his sweet favour !
But now he's gone,


my idolatrous fancy Must fanctify his relics. Who comes here?

Enter Parolles. One that goes with him. I love him for his sake, " And yet I know him a notorious lyar ; - Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; " Yet these fix'd evils fit fo fit in him, “ That they take place, when virtue's steely bones " Look bleak in the cold wind;" full oft we fee Cold * Wisdom waiting on superfluous Folly.

Par. Save you, fair Queen.
Hel. And you, Monarch,
Par. No.
Hel. And no,
Par. Are you meditating on virginity?

Hel. Ay; you have fome stain + of foldier in you; let me ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity, how may we barricado it against him?

Par. Kcep him out,

Hel. But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, in the defence yet is weak: unjold to us fome warlike resistance.

Par. There is none; man, setting down before you, will undermine you, and blow you up:

Hel. Bless our poor virginity from undermniners, and

* Cold for naked; as superfluous for ever-cloibid. + Stain for colour,


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