Hel. I will stand for't a little, though therefore I die a virgin.

Par. There's little can be said in't; 'tis against the rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible disobedience. He, that hangs himself, is a virgin virginity murders itself; and should be buried in highways, out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very paring, and so dies with feeding his Own stomach. Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but lose by't: Out with't: within ten years it will make itself ten, 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 see: Marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it likes. "Tis a commodity will lose the gloss 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 suited, but unsuit able: just like the brooch and tooth pick, which 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 dryly; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet, 'tis a wither'd pear; Will you any thing with it?

Hel Not my virginity yet.

There shall your master have a thousand loves,

A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,
A phoenix, .captain, and an enemy,
A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign,
A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear..
His humble ambition, proud humility,
His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet,
His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
Of preity, ford, adoptious christendoms,
That blinking Cupid gossips.
I know not what he shall:

Now shall he
God send him

and he is one

'Tis pity

Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't, Which might be felt: that we, the poorer born, Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,

Might with effects of them foll,w our friends, And show what we alone must think; which never Returns us thanks.

Enter a Page.

Page. Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. [Exit Page. Par. Little Helen, farewell: if I can remember thee, I will think of thee at court.

Hel. Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.

Par. Under Mars, I

Hel. I especially think,, under Mars.

Par. Why under Mars?

Hel The wars have so kept you 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 so?

Hel. You go so much backward, when you fight.

Par. That's for advantage.

Hel. So is running away,

when fear proposes

the safety: But the composition, that your valour and fear males in you, is à virtue of good wing, and I like the wear well.

Par. I am so full of businesses, I cannot an swer thee acutely: I will return perfect courtier; in the which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou wilt be capable of a cour tier's counsel, and understand what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and thine, ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast none remember thy friends, get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: so farewell.

[Exit.

Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky
Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull
Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull
What power is it, which mounts my love so
high;

That makes me sec, and cannot feed mine eye?
The mightiest space in fortune nature brings
To join like likes, and kiss like native things.
Impossible be strange attempts, to those

That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose,
What hath been cannot be: Who ever strove
To show hez 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.

[Exit.

Paris. A Room in the King's Palace.

Flourish of cornets. Enter the King of France with letters; Lords and others attending.

King. The Florentines and Senoys are by the

ears;

Have fought with equal fortune, and continue A braving war.

1 Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir.

King. Nay, 'tis most 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.

1 Lord. His love and wisdom,

Approv'd so to your Majesty, may plead
For amplest credence.

King. He hath arm'd our answer.

And Florence is denied before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen, that mean to sce
The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.

1 Lord. It may well serve

A nursery to our gentry, who are sick
For breathing and exploit.

King. What's he comes here?

Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES.

Lord. It is the count Rousillon, my good
Lord,

Young Bertram,

King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;
Frank nature, rather curious than in haste,
Hath well compos'd thee. Thy father's moral
paris

May'st thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.
Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majesty's.
King. I would I had that corporal soundness

now,

As when thy father, and myself, in friendship
First try'd our soldiership! He did look far
Into the service of the time, and was
Discipled of the bravest: he lasted lobg;
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, follow'd well, would demonstrate them

Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb;

So