Shakespeare

SCENE II. Paris. The KING's palace.

Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France, with letters, and divers Attendants

KING

The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears;

Have fought with equal fortune and continue

A braving war.

First Lord

So 'tis reported, sir.

KING

Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received 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.

First Lord

His love and wisdom,

Approved 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 see

The Tuscan service, freely have they leave

To stand on either part.

Second Lord

It well may serve

A nursery to our gentry, who are sick

For breathing and exploit.

KING

What's he comes here?

Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES

First 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 composed thee. Thy father's moral parts

Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris.

BERTRAM

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 tried 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

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 awaked 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 used 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