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First tried our soldiership. 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 scorn 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 speak, and at this 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, followed well, would demonstrate them now |
But goers backward. |
BERTRAM. 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 say- |
Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words |
He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them |
To grow there, and to bear- 'Let me not live'- |
This 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 snuff |
Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses |
All but new things disdain; whose judgments are |
Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies |
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 dissolved from my hive, |
To give some labourers room. |
SECOND LORD. You're loved, sir; |
They that least lend it you shall 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. |
BERTRAM. Some six months since, my lord. |
KING. If he were living, I would try him yet- |
Lend me an arm-the rest have worn me out |
With several applications. Nature and sickness |
Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, Count; |
My son's no dearer. |
BERTRAM. Thank your Majesty. Exeunt [Flourish] |
ACT I. SCENE 3. |
Rousillon. The COUNT'S palace |
Enter COUNTESS, STEWARD, and CLOWN |
COUNTESS. I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman? |
STEWARD. 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. |
COUNTESS. What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah. The |
complaints I have heard of you I do not all believe; 'tis my |
slowness that I do not, for I know you lack not folly to commit |
them and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours. |
CLOWN. 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. |
COUNTESS. Well, sir. |
CLOWN. No, madam, 'tis not so 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, Isbel the woman and I will do as we may. |
COUNTESS. Wilt thou needs be a beggar? |
CLOWN. I do beg your good will in this case. |
COUNTESS. In what case? |
CLOWN. 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 o' |
my body; for they say bames are blessings. |
COUNTESS. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. |
CLOWN. My poor body, madam, requires it. I am driven on by the |
flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. |
COUNTESS. Is this all your worship's reason? |
CLOWN. Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such as they are. |
COUNTESS. May the world know them? |
CLOWN. I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and all flesh |
and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry that I may repent. |
COUNTESS. Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. |
CLOWN. I am out o' friends, madam, and I hope to have friends for |
my wife's sake. |
COUNTESS. Such friends are thine enemies, knave. |
CLOWN. Y'are shallow, madam-in great friends; for the knaves come |
to do that for me which I am aweary of. He that ears my land |
spares my team, and gives me leave to in 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 cherishes my flesh and |
blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my flesh and blood |
is my friend; ergo, he that kisses 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 Poysam the |
papist, howsome'er their hearts are sever'd in religion, their |
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