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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 now
But
goers

backward.
Ber. 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 То grow there, and to bear) -Let me not live, Thus 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 labourer room.

* So in &c.]-His epitaph bears not so strong a testimony to his fame, as does your majesty's commendation--" So his approof-in epitaph "it contains not such encomiums.

I apprehenfive senses]— faftidious tafte.

m Mere fathers of their garments ; whose confiancies expiré)-are employed folely in inventing new modes of dress; whose fancies change

“ Some jay of Italy
" Whose mother was her painting."
CYMBELINE, Act I, S.

4.

Imo.

2 Lord.

2 Lord. You are lov'd, 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.

Ber. 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 leiture. Welcome, count ;
My son's no dearer.
Ber. Thank your majesty.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

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Enter Countess, Steward, and Clown. Count. I will now hear what you say of this gentlewoman.

Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I wilh 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 knavę here? Get you gone, firrah: The complaints, I have heard of you, I do not all believe; 'tis my nowness, that I do not : for, I know, you lack not folly o to commit them, and have ability enough to make such knaveries yours.

Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, that I am a poor fellow.

to even your content, ]-give you satisfaction.

to commit them, &c. )--to put you upon attemping such knaveries, and have ability enough for their accomplishment.

Count.

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Count. Well, sir.

Clo. 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 P good will to go to the world, Ifbel the woman and I will do as we may.

Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar?
Clo. I do beg your good will in this case.
Count. In what case ?

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: I am driven on by the flesh ; 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 flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry, that I may repent. Count. Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness.

Clo. I am out of friends, madam ; and I hope to have friends for my wife's fake.

Count. Such friends are thine enemies, knave.

Clo. You are shallow, madam; ev'n great friends : for the knaves come to do that for me, which I am a weary of. He, thac 'ears my land, spares my team, and gives me leave to inn the crop : if I be his cuckold, he's my

P good will to go to the world,]-consent to marry.

are shallow, not in the secret, miltaken.
cars ]-tills,

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drudge:

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, howsoe'er their hearts are sever'd in religion, their h ads are both one, they may joul horns together, like any deer i' the herd.

Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calumnious knave ?

Clo. A prophet, I, madam; and I speak the truth the next way :

For I the ballad will repeat,

Which men full true small find ;
Your marriage comes by destiny,

Your cuckoo sings by kind.
Count. Get you gone, fir; I'll talk with you more anon.

Stew. 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 me, [Singing

Why the Grecians sacked Troy?
* For it undone, undone, quoth be,

Was this king Priam's joy.
With that she sighed as she stood,
With that she highed as the food,

And gave this a sentence then ;
Among nine bad if one be good,
Among nine bad if one be good,

There's yet one good in ten.

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Fond done, fond done (for Paris, he.)

Count.

Count. What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, firrah.

Clo. One good woman in ten, madam ; which is a pu. rifying o'the song: 'Would God would serve the world so all the year! we'd find no fault with the tythe-woman, if I were the parfon : One in ten, quoth a'! an we might have a good woman born but 'on every blazing ftar, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well ; a man may draw his heart out, ere he pluck one.

Count. You'll be gone, fir knave, and do as I command you?

Clo. That man should be at a woman's command, and yet no hurt done !--Though honesty "be a puritan, yet it will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humility over the black gown of a big heart.- I am going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither.

[Exit. Count. Well, now.

Stew. I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman intirely

Count. Faith, I do: her father bequeath'd her to me; and she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully make title to as much love as she finds: there is more owing her, than is paid : and more shall be paid her, than she'll demand.

Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her than, I think, she wish'd me : alone she was, and did communicate to herself her own words to her own ears ; she thought, I dare vow for her, they "touch'd not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she lov'd your

son : For tune, she said, was no goddess, that had put such diffe

* on every blazing ftar,)-upon the appearance of every comet.

u be a puritan, yet it will do no burt;}-somewhat nice and scrupulous, yet it is not obstinately so, it will conform a little be no puritan.

* touch'd not any stranger senje. )-reach'd not the audience of another.

rence

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