Laf.
Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
There's one arriv'd,
If you will see her. Now, by my faith and honour,
If seriously I may convey my thoughts
In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
With one that in her sex, her years, profession,
Wisdom and constancy, hath amaz'd me more,
Than I dare blame my weakness. Will you see her,
For that is her demand, and know her business?
That done, laugh well at me.

King.
Now, good Lafeu,
Bring in the admiration, that we with thee
May spend our wonder too, or take off thine,
By wond'ring how thou took'st it. [Exeunt Attendants.

Laf.
Nay, I'll fit you,
And not be all day, neither. [Exit Lafeu.

King.
What is all this?

Laf. [Returns.]
Nay, come your ways. [Bringing in Helena.

King.
This haste hath wings, indeed.

Laf.
Nay, come your ways,

This is his majesty, say your mind to him;
A traitor you do look like; but such traitors
His majesty seldom fears. I'm Cressid's uncle,
That dare leave together; fare you well. [Exit.

King.
Now, fair one, does your business follow us?

Hel.
Ay, my good lord.
Gerard de Narbon was my father,
In what he did profess, well found.

King.
I knew him.

Hel.
The rather will I spare my praise towards him;
Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death,
Many receipts he gave me, chiefly one,
Which as the dearest issue of his practice,
And of his own experience th'only darling,
He bad, me store up, as a triple eye,
Safer than mine own two. More dear I have so;
And hearing your high majesty is touch'd
With that malignant cause, wherein the honour
Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power,
I come to tender it,
With all bound humbleness.

King.
We thank you, maiden;
But may not be so credulous of cure,
When our most learned doctors leave us; and
The congregated college have concluded,
That labouring art can never ransom nature,
From her unaidable estate.* ^note

Hel.
Dread sir, to my endeavours give consent,
Of heav'n, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impostor,
But know, I think, and think I know most sure,

My art is not past power, nor you past cure.* ^note

King.
Art thou so confident? within what space
Hop'st thou my cure?

Hel.
Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnal round;
Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass
Hath told the thievish minutes How they glide,
Health shall live free, and sickness freely die.

King.
Methinks, in thee some blessed spirit doth speak.† ^note

Hel.
If I break time, or flinch in property
Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
And well deserv'd!
But if I help, what do you promise me?

King.
Make thy demand.

Hel.
But will you make it even?

King.
Ay, by my scepter, and my hopes of heaven.

Hel.
Then shalt thou give me, with thy royal leave,
What husband in thy power I will command.
Exempted be from me the vanity
To chuse from forth the royal blood of France;
But such a one thy vassal, whom I know
Is free for me to ask and thee to give.‡ ^note

King.
Here is my hand, observe the premises,
Thy will by my performance shall be serv'd:
So, make the choice of thine own time; for I,

Thy resolv'd patient, on thee still rely.
More should I question thee,
From whence thou cam'st, how tended on—but rest
Unquestion'd welcome, and undoubted blest.
Give me some help here, hoa! [Enter Attendants.] If thou proceed
As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed. [Exeunt.

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