SCENE II.
The court of France.
Flourish cornets. Enter the king of France, with letters, and divers attendants.
King.
The Florentines and 9 noteSenoys 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 deny'd before he comes:
Yet, for our gentlemen, that mean to see
The Tuscan service, freely have they leave
To stand on either part.
-- 19 --
2 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.
1 Lord.
It is the count Rousillon1 note, 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 parts
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 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
2 note
He had the wit, which I can well observe
-- 20 --
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.
3 note
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 that time,
4 note
His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him
-- 21 --
5 noteHe us'd as creatures of another place;
And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks,
6 note
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;
7 note
So in approof lives not his epitaph,
As in your royal speech.
-- 22 --
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,—
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
8 note
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.
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,
-- 23 --
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 leisure. Welcome, count;
My son's no dearer.
Ber.
Thank your majesty.
[Flourish. Exeunt.
Samuel Johnson [1778], The plays of William Shakspeare. In ten volumes. With the corrections and illustrations of various commentators; to which are added notes by Samuel Johnson and George Steevens. The second edition, Revised and Augmented (Printed for C. Bathurst [and] W. Strahan [etc.], London) [word count] [S10901].
