| ACT I.
SCENE 1. Rousillon.  A room in the COUNTESS'S palace.
 (continued)PAROLLES.
Let me see: marry, ill to like him that ne'er it likes. 'Tis a
 commodity will lose the gloss with lying; the longer kept, the
 less worth: off with't while 'tis vendible; answer the time of
 request. Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out of
 fashion; richly suited, but unsuitable: just like the brooch and
 the toothpick, which wear not now. Your date is better in your
 pie and your porridge than in your cheek. And your virginity,
 your old virginity, is like one of our French withered pears; it
 looks ill, it eats drily; marry, 'tis a wither'd pear; it was
 formerly better; marry, yet 'tis a wither'd pear. Will you
 anything with it?
 
 HELENA.
Not my virginity yet.
 There shall your master have a thousand loves,
 A mother, and a mistress, and a friend,
 A phoenix, 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 dulcet,
 His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world
 Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms,
 That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he--
 I know not what he shall:--God send him well!--
 The court's a learning-place;--and he is one,--
 
 PAROLLES.
What one, i' faith?
 
 HELENA.
That I wish well.--'Tis pity--
 
 PAROLLES.
What's pity?
 
 HELENA.
That wishing well had not a body in't
 Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born,
 Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,
 Might with effects of them follow our friends
 And show what we alone must think; which never
 Returns us thanks.
 
 [Enter a PAGE.]
 PAGE.
Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you.
 
 [Exit PAGE.]
 
 PAROLLES.
Little Helen, farewell: if I can remember thee, I will
 think of thee at court.
 
 HELENA.
Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star.
 
 PAROLLES.
Under Mars, I.
 
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