230

Eneer

yong Bertram Count of Roffillion, bis Mother, and Helena, Lord Lafew, all in blacke.

Mother.

N deliuering my fonne from me, I burie a fecond husband.

Rof. And I in going Madam, weep ore my fathers death anew;but I must attend his maiefties command, to whom I am now in Ward, euermore in fubiection.

Laf. You fhall find of the King a husband Madame, you fir a father. He that fo generally is at all times good, muft of neceffitie hold his vertue to you, whofe worthineffe would stirre it vp where it wanted rather then lack it where there is fuch abundance.

Mo. What hope is there of his Maiefties amendment? Laf. He hath abandon'd his Phifitions Madam, vnder whofe practises he hath perfecuted time with hope, and finds no other aduantage in the proceffe, but onely the loofing of hope by time.

Mo. This yong Gentlewoman had a father, O that had, how fad a paffage tis, whofe skill was almost as great as his honeftie, had it ftretch'd fo far, would haue made nature immortall, and death should haue play for lacke of worke. Would for the Kings fake hee were liuing, I thinke it would be the death of the Kings disease. Laf. How call'd you the man you fpeake of Madam ? Mo. He was famous fir in his profeffion, and it was his great right to be fo: Gerard de Narbon.

Laf. He was excellent indeed Madam, the King very latelie fpoke of him admiringly, and mourningly hee was skilfull enough to haue liu'd stil, if knowledge could be fet vp against mortallitie.

of?

Rof. What is it (my good Lord) the King languishes

Laf. A Fiftula my Lord.

Rof. I heard not of it before.

Laf. I would it were not notorious.

Was this Gentlewoman the Daughter of Gerard de Narbon?

Mo. His fole childe my Lord, and bequeathed to my ouer looking. I haue thofe hopes of her good, that her education promifes her difpofitions fhee inherits, which makes faire gifts fairer: for where an vncleane mind carries vertuous qualities, there commendations go with pitty, they arc vertues and traitors too: in her they are the better for their fimpleneffe; the deriues her honestie,

Mo.'Tis the best brine a Maiden can feafon her praise in. The remembrance of her father neuer approches her heart, but the tirrany of her forrowes takes all liuelihood from her cheeke. No more of this Helena, go too, no more leaft it be rather thought you affect a forrow, then to haue

Hell. I doe affect a forrow indeed, but I haue it too. Laf. Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, exceffiue greefe the enemie to the liuing.

Mo. If the liuing be enemie to the greefe, the exceffe makes it foone mortall.

Rof. Maddam I defire your holie wishes.

Laf. How vnderstand we that?

Mo. Be thou bleft Bertrame, and fucceed thy father
In manners as in fhape: thy blood and vertue
Contend for Empire in thee, and thy goodneffe
Share with thy birth-right. Loue all, truft a few,
Doe wrong to none: be able for thine enemie
Rather in power then vfe: and keepe thy friend
Vnder thy owne lifes key. Be checkt for filence,
But neuer tax'd for fpeech. What heauen more wil,
That thee may furnish, and my prayers plucke downe,
Fall on thy head. Farwell my Lord,
'Tis an vnfeafon'd Courtier, good my Lord
Aduife him.

Laf. He cannot want the best
That fhall attend his loue.

Mo. Heauen bleffe him: Farwell Bertram.

Ro. The best wishes that can be forg'd in your thoghts be feruants to you: be comfortable to my mother, your Miftris, and make much of her.

Laf. Farewell prettie Lady, you must hold the credit of your father."

Hell. O were that all, I thinke not on my father,
And these great teares grace his remembrance more
Then thofe I fhed for him. What was he like?
I haue forgott him. My imagination
Carries no fauour in't but Bertrams.

I am vndone, there is no liuing, none,
If Bertram be away. "Twere all one,
That I should loue a bright particuler starre,
And think to wed it, he is fo aboue me
In his bright radience and colaterall light,

Muft

Hel. But he affailes, and our virginitie though valiant, in the defence yet is weak: vnfold to vs fome warlike refiftance.

Par. There is none: Man fetting downe before you, will vndermine you, and blow you vp.

Hel. Bleffe our poore Virginity from vnderminers and blowers vp. Is there no Military policy how Virgins might blow vp men?

:

Par. Virginity beeing blowne downe, Man will quicklier be blowne vp marry in blowing him downe againe, with the breach your felues made, you lose your Citty. It is not politicke, in the Common-wealth of Nature, to preferue virginity. Loffe of Virginitie, is rational encreafe, and there was neuer Virgin goe, till virginitie was first loft. That you were made of, is mettall to make Virgins. Virginitie, by beeing once loft, may be ten times found: by being euer kept, it is euer loft: 'tis too cold a companion: Away with't.

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

Par. There's little can bee faide in't, 'tis against the rule of Nature. To fpeake on the part of virginitie, is to accufe your Mothers; which is most infallible difobedience. He that hangs himfelfe is a Virgin : Virginitie murthers it felfe, and fhould be buried in highwayes out of all fanctified limit, as a defperate Offendreffe against Nature. Virginitie breedes mites, much like a Cheese, confumes it felfe to the very payring, and fo dies with feeding his owne ftomacke. Befides, Virginitie is peeuifh, proud, ydle, made of felfe-loue, which is the moft inhibited finne in the Cannon. Keepe it not, you cannot choose but loose by't. Out with't: within ten yeare it will make it felfe two, which is a goodly increafe, and the principall it felfe not much the worse. Away with't.

Hel. How might one do fir, to loose it to her owne liking?

Par. Let mee fee. Marry ill, to like him that ne're it likes. 'Tis a commodity wil lofe the gloffe with lying: The longer kept, the leffe worth: Off with't while 'tis vendible. Anfwer the time of requeft, Virginitie like an olde Courtier, weares her cap out of fashion, richly futed, but vnfuteable, iuft like the brooch & the toothpick, which were not now: your Date is better in your Pye and your Porredge, then in your cheeke: and your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French wither'd peares, it lookes ill, it eates drily, marry 'tis a wither'd peare it was formerly better, marry yet 'tis a wither'd peare Will you any thing with it?

Hel. Not my virginity yet:

There fhall your Master haue a thousand loues,
A Mother, and a Miftreffe, and a friend,
A Phenix, Captaine, and an enemy,
A guide, a Goddeffe, and a Soueraigne,
A Counsellor, a Traitoreffe, and a Deare:
His humble ambition, proud humility:
His iarring, concord: and his difcord, dulcet:
His faith, his fweet disaster : with a world
Of pretty fond adoptious christendomes
That blinking Cupid goffips. Now shall he:
I know not what he fhall, God fend him well,
The Courts a learning place, and he is one.
Par. What one ifaith?

Hel. That I wish well, 'tis pitty.
Par. What's pitty?

Hel. That wishing well had not a body in't,
Which might be felt, that we the poorer borne,
Whose bafer ftarres do fhut vs vp in wishes,
Might vvith effects of them follow our friends,
And fhew what vve alone must thinke, which neuer
Returnes vs thankes.

Par. Vnder Mars I.

Hel. I efpecially thinke, vnder Mars.
Par. Why vnder Mars?

Hel. The warres hath fo kept you vnder, that you

muft needes be borne vnder Mars.

Par. When he was predominant.

Hel. When he was retrograde I thinke rather.
Par. Why thinke you fo?

Hel. You go fo much backward when you fight.
Par. That's for aduantage.

Hel. So is running away,

When feare propofes the fafetie :

But the compofition that your valour and feare makes in you, is a vertue of a good wing, and I like the weare well. Paroll. I am fo full of bufineffes, I cannot answere thee acutely I will returne perfect Courtier, in the which my inftruction fhall ferue to naturalize thee, fo thou wilt be capeable of a Courtiers councell, and vnderstand what aduice shall thrust vppon thee, elfe thou dieft in thine vnthankfulnes, and thine ignorance makes thee away, farewell: When thou haft leyfure, fay thy praiers when thou haft none, remember thy Friends: V 2 Get

:

Get thee a good husband, and vse him as he vses thee:
So farewell.

Hel. Our remedies oft in our felues do lye,
Which we afcribe to heauen: the fated skye
Giues vs free scope, onely doth backward pull
Our flow defignes, when we our felues are dull.
What power is it, which mounts my loue so hye,
That makes me fee, and cannot feede mine eye?
The mightiest space in fortune, Nature brings
To ioyne like, likes; and kisse like natiue things.
Impoffible be ftrange attempts to those

That weigh their paines in fence, and do fuppofe
What hath beene, cannot be. Who euer ftroue
To fhew her merit, that did miffe her loue?
(The Kings disease) my proiect may deceiue me,
But my intents are fixt, and will not leaue me.

King. The Florentines and Senoys are by th'eares, Haue fought with equall fortune, and continue A brauing warre.

1.Lo.G. So tis reported fir.

King. Nay tis moft credible, we heere receive it, A certaintie vouch'd from our Cofin Auftria, With caution, that the Florentine will moue vs For fpeedie ayde: wherein our deerest friend Preiudicates the bufineffe, and would seeme To haue vs make deniall.

1.Lo.G. His loue and wifedome Approu'd fo to your Maiefty, may pleade For ampleft credence.

King. He hath arm'd our answer,
And Florence is deni'de before he comes:
Yet for our Gentlemen that meane to fee
The Tufcan feruice, freely haue they leaue
To ftand on either part.

2. Lo.E. It well may ferue

A nurfferie to our Gentrie, who are ficke

For breathing, and exploit.

King. What's he comes heere.

Enter Bertram, Lafew, and Parolles.

1.Lor.G. It is the Count Refignoll my good Lord, Yong Bertram.

King. Youth, thou bear'ft thy Fathers face, Franke Nature rather curious then in haft Hath well compos'd thee: Thy Fathers morall parts Maift thou inherit too : Welcome to Paris.

Ber. My thankes and dutie are your Maiefties. Kin. I would I had that corporall foundneffe now, As when thy father, and my felfe, in friendship Firft tride our fouldiership: he did looke farre Into the feruice of the time, and was Difcipled of the braueft. He lafted long, But on vs both did haggish Age fteale on, And wore vs out of act: It much repaires me To talke of your good father; in his youth He had the wit, which I can well obferue To day in our yong Lords: but they may iest Till their owne fcorne returne to them vnnoted Ere they can hide their leuitie in honour : So like a Courtier, contempt nor bitternesse

Exit

Were in his pride, or fharpneffe; if they were,
His equall had awak'd them, and his honour
Clocke to it felfe, knew the true minute when
Exception bid him fpeake : and at this time
His tongue obey'd his hand. Who were below him,
He vs'd as creatures of another place,
Aud bow'd his eminent top to their low rankes,
Making them proud of his humilitie,

In their poore praise he humbled: Such a man
Might be a copie to these yonger times;

Which followed well, would demonftrate them now
But goers backward.

Ber. His good remembrance fir

Lies richer in your thoughts, then on his tombe:
So in approofe liues not his Epitaph,

As in your royall speech.

King. Would I were with him he would alwaies say, (Me thinkes I heare him now) his plaufiue words He scatter'd not in eares, but grafted them To grow there and to beare: Let me not liue, This his good melancholly oft began On the Catastrophe and heele of pastime When it was out: Let me not liue (quoth hee) After my flame lackes oyle, to be the fnuffe Of yonger fpirits, whofe apprehenfiue fenfes All but new things difdaine; whofe iudgements are Meere 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 honie can bring home,

I quickly were diffolued from my hiue

To giue fome Labourers roome.

L.2.E. You'r loued Sir,

Ste. Maddam the care I haue had to euen your content, I with might be found in the Kalender of my paft endeuours, for then we wound our Modeftie, and make foule the clearneffe of our deferuings, whenof our felues we publish them.

Coun. What doe's this knaue heere? Get you gone firra: the complaints I haue heard of you I do not all beleeue, 'tis my flowneffe that I doe not: For I know you lacke not folly to commit them, & haue abilitie enough to make fuch knaueries yours.

Clo. "Tis not vnknown to you Madam, I am a poore fellow.

of the rich are damn'd, but if I may haue your Ladifhips good will to goe to the world, Isbell the woman and w will doe as we may.

Coun. Wilt thou needes be a begger?

Clo. I doe beg your good will in this cafe.
Cou. In what cafe?

Clo. In Isbels cafe and mine owne: feruice is no heritage, and I thinke I fhall neuer haue the bleffing of God, till I haue issue a my bodie: for they fay barnes are bleffings.

Cou. Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marrie?

Clo. My poore bodie Madam requires it, I am driuen on by the flesh, and hee muft needes goe that the diuell driues.

Cou. Is this all your worships reason ?

Clo. Faith Madam I haue other holie reasons, such as they are.

Con. May the world know them?

Clo. I haue beene Madam a wicked creature, as you and all flesh and blood are, and indeede I doe marrie that I may repent.

Cou. Thy marriage fooner then thy wickedneffe. Clo. I am out a friends Madam, and I hope to haue friends for my wiues fake.

Cou. Such friends are thine enemies knaue.

Clo. Y'are fhallow Madam in great friends, for the knaues come to doe that for me which I am a wearie of: he that eres my Land, fpares my teame, and giues mee leaue to Inne the crop if I be his cuckold hee's my drudge; he that comforts my wife, is the cherifher of my flesh and blood; hee that cherishes my flesh and blood, loues my flesh and blood; he that loues my flesh and blood is my friend:ergo, he that kiffes my wife is my friend: if men could be contented to be what they are, there were no feare in marriage, for yong Charbon the Puritan, and old Poyfam the Papift, how fomere their hearts are feuer'd in Religion, their heads are both one, they may ioule horns together like any Deare i'th Herd. Cou. Wilt thou euer be a foule mouth'd and calumnious knaue?

Clo. A Prophet I Madam, and I speake the truth the next waie, for I the Ballad will repeate, which men full true fhall finde, your marriage comes by deftinie, your Cuckow fings by kinde.

Cou. Get you gone fir, Ile talke with you more anon. Stew. May it please you Madam, that hee bid Hellen come to you, of her I am to fpeake.

Cou. Sirra tell my gentlewoman I would fpeake with her, Hellen I meane.

Clo. Was this faire face the caufe, quoth she,

Why the Grecians facked Troy,

Fond done, done, fond was this King Priams ioy,

With that the fighed as she flood, bis

And gaue this fentence then, among nine bad if one be good, among nine bad if one be good, there's yet one good in ten.

Cou. What, one good in tenne? you corrupt the fong firra.

Clo. One good woman in ten Madam, which is a purifying ath' fong: would God would ferue the world fo all the yeere, weed finde no fault with the tithe woman if I were the Parfon, one in ten quoth a? and wee might haue a good woman borne but ore euerie blazing ftarre, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the Lotteriewell, a man may draw his heart out ere a plucke one.

Cou. Youle begone fir knaue, and doe as I command you?

Stew. I know Madam you loue your Gentlewoman intirely.

Cou. Faith I doe: her Father bequeath'd her to mee, and fhe her felfe without other aduantage, may lawfullie make title to as much loue as fhee findes, there is more owing her then is paid, and more shall be paid her then fheele demand.

Stew. Madam, I was verie late more neere her then I thinke thee wifht mee, alone fhee was, and did communicate to her felfe her owne words to her owne eares, fhee thought, I dare vowe for her, they toucht not anie ftranger fence, her matter was, fhee loved your Sonne; Fortune Thee faid was no goddeffe, that had put fuch difference betwixt their two eftates Loue no god, that would not extend his might onelie, where qualities were leuell, Queene of Virgins, that would fuffer her poore Knight furpris'd without refcue in the first affault or ransome afterward: This fhee deliuer'd in the most bitter touch of forrow that ere I heard Virgin exclaime in, which I held my dutie fpeedily to acquaint you withall, fithence in the loffe that may happen, it concernes you fomething to know it.

Cou. You haue difcharg'd this honeftlie, keepe it to your felfe, manie likelihoods inform'd mee of this before, which hung fo tottring in the ballance, that I could neither beleeue nor mifdoubt: praie you leaue mee, ftall this in your bofome, and I thanke you for your honeft care : I will fpeake with you further anon. Exit Steward.

Enter Hellent.

Old.Cou. Euen fo it vvas vvith me when I was yong: If euer vve are natures, these are ours, this thorne Doth to our Rose of youth righlie belong Our bloud to vs, this to our blood is borne, It is the fhow, and feale of natures truth, Where loues ftrong paffion is imprest in youth,

By our remembrances of daies forgon,

Such were our faults, or then we thought them none,
Her eie is ficke on't, I obferue her now.

Hell. What is your pleasure Madam?

Ol.Cou. You know Hellen I am a mother to you.
Hell. Mine honorable Miftris.

Ol.Cou. Nay a mother, why not a mother? when I fed a mother

Me thought you faw a ferpent, what's in mother,
That you ftart at it? 1 fay I am your mother,
And put you in the Catalogue of those
That were enwombed mine, 'tis often feene
Adoption ftriues vvith nature, and choife breedes
A natiue flip to vs from forraine feedes:
You nere oppreft me with a mothers groane,
Yet I expreffe to you a mothers care,
(Gods mercie maiden) dos it curd thy blood
To fay I am thy mother? vvhat's the matter,
That this distempered meffenger of wet?

V3

The

The manie colour'd Iris rounds thine eye?
-Why, that you are my daughter?

Hell. That I am not.
Old.Cou. I fay I am your Mother.
Hell. Pardon Madam.

The Count Rofillion cannot be my brother:
I am from humble, he from honored name:
No note vpon my Parents, his all noble,
My Mafter, my deere Lord he is, and I
His feruant liue, and will his vaffall die :
He must not be my brother.

Ol. Cou. Nor I your Mother.

Hell. You are my mother Madam, would you were So that my Lord your fonne were not my brother, Indeede my mother, or were you both our mothers, I care no more for, then I doe for heauen, So I were not his fifter, cant no other,

But I your daughter, he must be my brother.

?

Old Cou. Yes Hellen, you might be my daughter in law,
God fhield you meane it not, daughter and mother
So ftriue vpon your pulse; vvhat pale agen
My feare hath catcht your fondneffe! now I fee
The mistrie of your louelineffe, and finde
Your falt teares head, now to all fence 'tis groffe:
You loue my fonne, inuention is afham'd
Against the proclamation of thy paffion
To fay thou dooft not: therefore tell me true,
But tell me then 'tis fo, for looke, thy cheekes
Confeffe it 'ton tooth to th'other, and thine eies
See it fo grofely fhowne in thy behauiours,
That in their kinde they fpeake it, onely finne
And hellish obftinacie tye thy tongue
That truth should be fufpected, fpeake, ift fo?
If it be fo, you haue wound a goodly clewe:
If it be not, forfweare't how ere I charge thee,
As heauen fhall worke in me for thine auaile
To tell me truelie.

Hell. Good Madam pardon me.
Cou. Do you loue my Sonne?

Hell. Your pardon noble Mistris.

Cou. Loue you my Sonne?

Hell. Doe not you loue him Madam?

Cou. Goe not about;my loue hath in't a bond

Whereof the world takes note: Come, come, disclose :
The state of your affection, for your paffions
Haue to the full appeach'd.

Hell. Then I confeffe

Here on my knee, before high heauen and you,

That before you, and next vnto high heauen, I loue your
Sonne:

My friends were poore but honeft, fo's my loue:
Be not offended, for it hurts not him

That he is lou'd of me; I follow him not

By any token of prefumptuous suite,

Nor would I haue him, till I doe deferue him,
Yet neuer know how that defert should be:
I know I loue in vaine, ftriue against hope:
Yet in this captious, and intemible Siue.
I ftill poure in the waters of my loue
And lacke not to loofe ftill; thus Indian like
Religious in mine error, I adore

The Sunne that lookes vpon his worshipper,
But knowes of him no more. My deerest Madam,
Let not your hate incounter with my loue,
For louing where you doe; but if
your felfe,
Whofe aged honor cites a vertuous youth,

Did euer, in fo true a flame of liking,
Wish chaftly, and loue dearely, that your Dian
Was both her felfe and loue, O then giue pittie
To her whofe state is such, that cannot choose
But lend and giue where the is fure to loose;
That feekes not to finde that, her fearch implies,
But riddle like, liues fweetely where she dies.
Cou. Had you not lately an intent, speake truely,
To goe to Paris?

Hell. Madam I had.

Cou. Wherefore?tell true.

Hell. I will tell truth, by grace it felfe I sweare:
You know my Father left me fome prescriptions
Of rare and prou'd effects, such as his reading
And manifeft experience, had collected

For generall foueraigntie: and that he wil'd me
In heedefull'ft referuation to bestow them,
As notes, whofe faculties inclufiue were,
More then they were in note: Amongst the rest,
There is a remedie, approu'd, fet downe,
To cure the defperate languishings whereof
The King is render'd loft.

Cou. This was your motiue for Paris, was it, speake?
Hell. My Lord, your fonne, made me to think of this;
Elfe Paris,and the medicine, and the King,
Had from the conuerfation of my thoughts,
Happily beene absent then.

Cou. But thinke you Hellen,

If you should tender your fuppofed aide,
He would receiue it? He and his Phifitions

Are of a minde, he, that they cannot helpe him :
They, that they cannot helpe, how fhall they credit
A poore vnlearned Virgin, when the Schooles
Embowel'd of their doctrine, haue left off
The danger to it felfe.

Hell. There's fomething in't

More then my Fathers skill, which was the great'st
Of his profeffion, that his good receipt,

Shall for my legacie be fanctified

Byth'luckiest stars in heauen, and would your honor
But give me leaue to trie fucceffe, I'de venture
The well loft life of mine, on his Graces cure,

By fuch a day, an houre.

Cou. Doo'ft thou beleeue't?

Hell. I Madam knowingly.