Loss of
virginity is rational increase, and there was never virgin got122
till virginity was first lost. That you were made of is mettle123 to
make virgins. Virginity by being once lost may be ten times
found. By being ever kept, it is ever lost. ’Tis too cold125 a
companion. Away with’t!
HELEN I will stand for’t127 a little, though therefore I die a
virgin.
PAROLLES There’s little can be said in’t129, ’tis against the rule of
nature. To speak on the part130 of virginity is to accuse your
mothers, which is most infallible disobedience. He that131
hangs himself is a virgin: virginity murders itself and should
be buried in highways out of all sanctified limit133, as a
desperate offendress134 against nature. Virginity breeds mites,
much like a cheese, consumes itself to the very paring135, and
so dies with feeding his own stomach.136 Besides, virginity is
peevish137, proud, idle, made of self-love, which is the most
inhibited sin in the canon.138 Keep it not, you cannot choose
but lose by’t. Out with’t! Within ten year it will make itself139
two, which is a goodly increase, and the principal140 itself not
much the worse. Away with’t!
HELEN How142 might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking?
PAROLLES Let me see. Marry, ill, to like him that ne’er it143 likes.
’Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with lying144: the longer
kept, the less worth. Off with’t while ’tis vendible. Answer145
the time of request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her
cap out of fashion: richly suited but unsuitable147, just like the
brooch and the toothpick, which wear not now. Your date148 is
better in your pie and your porridge than in your cheek.149 And
your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French
withered pears: it looks ill, it eats dryly.151 Marry, ’tis a withered
pear: it was formerly better: marry, yet ’tis a withered pear.
Will you anything with it?
HELEN Not my virginity yet —
There155 shall your master have a thousand loves,
A mother156 and a mistress and a friend,
A phoenix157, 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 dulcet161,
His faith, his sweet disaster.162 With a world
Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms163
That blinking Cupid gossips.164 Now shall he —
I know not what he shall. God send him well!165
The court’s a learning place, and he is one—
PAROLLES What one, i’faith?
HELEN That I wish well. ’Tis pity—
PAROLLES What’s pity?
HELEN That wishing well had not a body170 in’t,
Which might be felt, that we, the poorer born,
Whose baser stars do shut us up in172 wishes,
Might with effects of them173 follow our friends,
And show what we alone must think174, which never
Returns us thanks.175
Enter Page
PAGE Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.
[Exit]
PAROLLES Little Helen, farewell. If I can remember thee, I will
think of thee at court.
HELEN Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
PAROLLES Under Mars, ay.180
HELEN I especially think, under Mars.
PAROLLES Why under Mars?
HELEN The wars hath so kept you under183 that you must
needs be born under Mars.
PAROLLES When he was predominant.185
HELEN When he was retrograde186, I think rather.
PAROLLES Why think you so?
HELEN You go so much backward188 when you fight.
PAROLLES That’s for advantage.189
HELEN So is running away, when fear proposes the safety.
But the composition191 that your valour and fear makes in you
is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear192 well.
PAROLLES I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee
acutely. I will return perfect courtier in the which194, my
instruction shall serve to naturalize195 thee, so thou wilt
be capable of196 a courtier’s counsel and understand what
advice shall thrust197 upon thee. Else thou diest in thine
unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee away.198
Farewell. When thou hast leisure199, say thy prayers. When
thou hast none, remember thy friends. Get thee a good
husband, and use201 him as he uses thee. So, farewell.
[Exit]
HELEN Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,
Which we ascribe to heaven. The fated203 sky
Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull
Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull.205
What power is it which mounts my love so high,
That makes me see, and cannot feed207 mine eye?
The mightiest space in fortune208 nature brings
To join like likes and kiss like native209 things.
Impossible be strange attempts210 to those
That weigh their pains in sense211 and do suppose
What hath been cannot be. Who ever strove
To show her merit that did miss213 her love?
The king’s disease — my project may deceive me,
But my intents are fixed and will not leave me.
Exit
running scene 2
Flourish cornets. Enter the King of France, with letters, and divers Attendants
KING The Florentines and Senoys are by th’ears1,
Have fought with equal fortune and continue
A braving3 war.
FIRST LORD So ’tis reported, sir.
KING Nay, ’tis most credible. We here receive it
A certainty, vouched from our cousin6 Austria,
With caution that the Florentine will move7 us
For speedy aid, wherein our dearest friend8
Prejudicates9 the business and would seem
To have us make denial.10
FIRST LORD His love and wisdom,
Approved12 so to your majesty, may plead
For amplest credence.13
KING He hath armed14 our answer,
And Florence15 is denied before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see16
The Tuscan service17, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.18
SECOND LORD It well may serve
A nursery to our gentry, who are sick20
For breathing and exploit.21
KING What’s he comes here?
Enter Bertram, Lafew and Parolles
FIRST LORD It is the Count Rossillion, my good lord,
Young Bertram.
To Bertram
KING Youth, thou bear’st thy father’s face.
Frank nature, rather curious than in haste26,
Hath well composed thee. Thy father’s moral parts27
Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.
BERTRAM My thanks and duty are your majesty’s.
KING I would I had that corporal soundness30 now,
As when thy father and myself in friendship
First tried our soldiership. He did look far32
Into the service of the time and was33
Discipled of the bravest.34 He lasted long,
But on us both did haggish35 age steal on
And wore us out of act. It much repairs36 me
To talk of your good father; in his youth
He had the wit which I can well observe
Today in our young lords. But they may jest
Till their own scorn return to them unnoted40
Ere they can hide their levity in honour.41
So like a courtier, contempt42 nor bitterness
Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were,
His equal had awaked44 them, and his honour,
Clock to itself, knew the true45 minute when
Exception46 bid him speak, and at this time
His tongue obeyed his hand. Who47 were below him
He used as creatures of another place48
And bowed his eminent top49 to their low ranks,
Making them proud of his humility,
In their poor praise he humbled.51 Such a man
Might be a copy52 to these younger times;
Which, followed well, would demonstrate them now53
But goers backward.
BERTRAM His good remembrance, sir,
Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb,
So in approof57 lives not his epitaph
As in your royal speech.
KING Would I were with him! He would always say —
Methinks I hear him now.
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