_Fourth Lord._ Fair one, I think not so. 95 _Laf._ There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already. _Hel._ [_To Bertram_] I dare not say I take you; but I give Me and my service, ever whilst I live, 100 Into your guiding power. This is the man. _King._ Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife. _Ber._ My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, In such a business give me leave to use The help of mine own eyes. _King._ Know'st thou not, Bertram, 105 What she has done for me? _Ber._ Yes, my good lord; But never hope to know why I should marry her. _King._ Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. _Ber._ But follows it, my lord, to bring me down Must answer for your raising? I know her well: 110 She had her breeding at my father's charge. A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain Rather corrupt me ever! _King._ 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which I can build up. Strange is it, that our bloods, 115 Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off In differences so mighty. If she be All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest 120 Of virtue for the name: but do not so: From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by the doer's deed: Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, It is a dropsied honour. Good alone 125 Is good without a name. Vileness is so: The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; In these to nature she's immediate heir, And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, 130 Which challenges itself as honour's born, And is not like the sire: honours thrive, When rather from our acts we them derive Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave 135 A lying trophy; and as oft is dumb Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? If thou canst like this creature as a maid, I can create the rest: virtue and she 140 Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. _Ber._ I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't. _King._ Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose. _Hel._ That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad: Let the rest go. 145