King.
Farewel, young Lords: these warlike principles
Do not throw from you: you, my Lords, farewel;
Share the advice betwixt you. If Both gain,
The gift doth stretch it self as 'tis receiv'd,
And is enough for both.

1 Lord.
'Tis our hope, Sir,
After well-enter'd soldiers, to return
And find your Grace in health.

King.
No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
Will not confess, it owns the malady
That doth my life besiege; farewel, young Lords;
Whether I live or die, be you the Sons
Of worthy French men; (10) ^note

Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
The bravest Questant shrinks, find what you seek,
That Fame may cry you loud: I say, farewel.

2 Lord.
Health at your bidding serve your Majesty!

King.
Those girls of Italy, take heed of them;
They say, our French lack language to deny,
If they demand: beware of being captives,
Before you serve.

Both.
Our hearts receive your warnings.

King.
Farewel. Come hither to me. [To Attendants. [Exit.

1 Lord.
Oh, my sweet Lord, that you will stay behind us!—

Par.
'Tis not his fault; the Spark—

2 Lord.
Oh, 'tis brave wars.

Par.
Most admirable; I have seen those wars.

Ber.
I am commanded here, and kept a coil with,
Too young, and the next year, and 'tis too early.—

Par.

And thy mind stand to it, boy, steal away bravely.

Ber.
Shall I stay here the forehorse to a smock,
Creeking my shoes on the plain masonry,
'Till Honour be bought up, and no sword worn
But one to dance with? by heav'n, I'll steal away.

1 Lord.

There's honour in the theft.

Par.

Commit it, Count.

2 Lord.

I am your accessary, and so farewel.

Ber.

I grow to you, and our Parting is a tortur'd body.

1 Lord.

Farewel, Captain.

2 Lord.

Sweet Monsieur Parolles!—

Par.

Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin; good Sparks and lustrous. A word, good metals. (11) ^note

1 Lord.

We shall, noble Captain.

Par.

Mars doat on you for his novices! what will ye do?

Ber.

Stay; the King—

Par.

Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble Lords, you have restrain'd your self within the list of too cold an adieu; be more expressive to them, for they wear themselves in the cap of the time; there, do muster true gate, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most receiv'd star; and tho' the devil lead the measure, such are to be follow'd: after them, and take a more dilated farewel.

Ber.

And I will do so.

Par.

Worthy fellows, and like to prove most sinewy sword-men.

Laf.
Pardon, my Lord, for me and for my tidings.

King.
I'll see thee to stand up.

Laf.
Then here's a man stands, that hath bought his pardon.
I would, you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy;
And that at my bidding you could so stand up.

King.
I would, I had; so I had broke thy pate,
And ask'd thee mercy for't.

Laf.
Goodfaith, across:—but, my good Lord, 'tis thus;
Will you be cur'd of your infirmity?

King.
No.

Laf.
O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox?
Yes, but you will, my noble grapes; an if
My royal fox could reach them: (12 ^note

King.
What her is this?

Laf.
Why, Doctor-she: my Lord, 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.

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

King.
Thus he his special Nothing ever prologues.

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 two together; fare you well. [Exit.

King.
Now, fair One, do's 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 old experience th'only Darling,
He bade 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, and my appliance,
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 ransome Nature

From her unaidable estate: we must not
So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope,
To prostitute our past-cure malady
To empericks; or to dissever so
Our great self and our credit, to esteem
A senseless help, when help past sense we deem.

Hel.
My duty then shall pay me for my pains;
I will no more enforce mine office on you;
Humbly intreating from your royal thoughts
A modest one to bear me back again.

King.
I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful;
Thou thought'st to help me, and such thanks I give,
As one near death to those that wish him live;
But what at full I know, thou know'st no part;
I knowing all my peril, thou no art.

Hel.
What I can do, can do no hurt to try,
Since you set up your Rest 'gainst remedy:
He that of greatest works is finisher,
Oft does them by the weakest minister:
So holy Writ in Babes hath judgment shown,
When Judges have been Babes; great floods have flown,
From simple sources; and great seas have dry'd,
When Mir'cles have by th' greatest been deny'd.
Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises: and oft it hits
Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits.

King.
I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind Maid;
Thy pains, not us'd, must by thy self be paid:
Proffers, not took, reap thanks for their reward.

Hel.
Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd:
It is not so with him that all things knows,
As 'tis with us, that square our guess by shows:
But most it is presumption in us, when
The help of heav'n we count the act of men.
Dear Sir, to my endeavours give consent,
Of heav'n, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impostor, that proclaim
My self against the level of mine aim,

But know I think, and think I know most sure,
My Art is not past power, nor you past Cure.

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

Hel.
The Greatest Grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horses of the Sun shall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring;
Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp;
Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass
Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass;
What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly,
Health shall live free, and sickness freely die.

King.
Upon thy certainty and confidence,
What dar'st thou venture?

Hel.
Tax of impudence,
A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame
Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maiden's name
Sear'd otherwise, no worse of worst extended;
With vilest torture let my life be ended.

King.
Methinks, in thee some blessed Spirit doth speak
His powerful sound, within an organ weak;
And what impossibility would slay
In common sense, sense saves another way.
Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate:
(13) ^note

Sweet Practiser, thy physick I will try;
That ministers thine own death, if I die.

Hel.
If I break time, or flinch in property
Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
And well deserv'd! Not helping, death's my fee;
But if I help, what do you promise me?

King.
(14) ^note


Make thy Demand.

Hel.
But will you make it even?

King.
Ay, by my Scepter, and my hopes of Heav'n.

Hel.
Then shalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand,
What Husband in thy power I will command.
Exempted be from me the arrogance
To chuse from forth the royal blood of France;
My low and humble name to propagate
With any branch or image of thy state:
But such a one thy vassal, whom I know
Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.

King.
Here is my hand, the premises observ'd,
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, and more I must;
(Tho' more to know, could not be more to trust:)
From whence thou cam'st, how tended on,—but rest
Unquestion'd welcome, and undoubted blest.
Give me some help here, hoa! if thou proceed
As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed. [Exeunt.

Scene 2 SCENE changes to Rousillon. Enter Countess, and Clown.

Count.

Come on, Sir; I shall now put you to the height of your Breeding.

Clown.

I will shew my self highly fed, and lowly taught; I know, my business is but to the Court.

Count.

But to the Court? why, what place make you special, when you put off that with such contempt? but to the Court!

Clo.

Truly, Madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he may easily put it off at Court: he that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand, and say nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and, indeed, such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the Court: but for me, I have an answer will serve all men.

Count.

Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all questions.

Clo.

It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks; the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, or any buttock.

Count.

Will your answer serve fit to all questions?

Clo.

As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, as your French crown for your taffaty punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's fore-finger, as a pancake for Shrove-Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding quean to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's mouth; nay, as the pudding to his skin.

Count.

Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all questions?

Clo.

From below your Duke, to beneath your Constable, it will fit any question.

Count.

It must be an answer of most monstrous size, that must fit all demands.

Clo.

But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the Learned should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that belongs

to't. Ask me, if I am a Courtier;—it shall do you no harm to learn.

Count.

To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in a question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I pray you, Sir, are you a Courtier?

Clo.

O lord, Sir—there's a simple putting off: more, more, a hundred of them.

Count.

Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you.

Clo.

O lord, Sir—thick, thick, spare not me.

Count.

I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.

Clo.

O lord, Sir—nay, put me to't, I warrant you.

Count.

You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think.

Clo.

O lord, Sir—spare not me.

Count.

Do you cry, O lord, Sir, at your whipping, and spare not me? indeed, your O lord, Sir, is very sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't.

Clo.

I ne'er had worse luck in my life, in my—O lord, Sir; I see, things may serve long, but not serve ever.

Count.

I play the noble huswife with the time, to entertain it so merrily, with a fool.

Clo.
O lord, Sir—why, there't serves well again.

Count.
And end, Sir; to your business: give Helen this,
And urge her to a present Answer back.
Commend me to my kinsmen, and my son:
This is not much.

Clo.
Not much commendation to them?

Count.

Not much imployment for you, you understand me.

Clo.

Most fruitfully, I am there before my legs.

Count.

Haste you again.

Scene 3 SCENE changes to the Court of France. Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles.

Laf.

(15) ^noteThey say, miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons to make modern, and familiar, Things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconsing our selves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit our selves to an unknown fear.

Par.

Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot out in our later times.

Ber.

And so 'tis.

Laf.

To be relinquish'd of the Artists—

Par.

So I say, both of Galen and Paracelsus.

Laf.

Of all the learned and authentick Fellows—

Par.

Right, so I say.

Laf.

That gave him out incurable,—

Par.

Why, there 'tis, so say I too.

Laf.

Not to be help'd,—

Par.

Right, as 'twere a man assur'd of an—

Laf.

Uncertain life, and sure death,—

Par.

Just, you say well: so would I have said.

Laf.

I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.

Par.

It is, indeed, if you will have it in shewing, you shall read it in, what do you call there—

Laf.

A shewing of a heav'nly effect in an earthly actor.

Par.

That's it, I would have said the very same.

Laf.

(16) ^note

Par.

Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most facinerious spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the—

Laf.

Very hand of Heav'n.

Par.

Ay, so I say.

Laf.

In a most weak—

Par.

And debile minister, great power, great transcendence; which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made than alone the recov'ry of the King; as to be—

Laf.

Generally thankful.

Par.

I would have said it, you said well: here comes the King.

Laf.

Lustick, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a Maid the better, while I have a tooth in my head: why, he's able to lead her a Corranto.

Par.

Mort du Vinaigre, is not this Helen?

Laf.

'Fore God, I think so.

King.
Go, call before me all the Lords in Court.
Sit, my Preserver, by thy Patient's side;
And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense
Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive
The confirmation of my promis'd gift;
Which but attends thy naming.

Enter three or four Lords.
Fair Maid, send forth thine eye; this youthful parcel
Of noble batchelors stand at my bestowing,
O'er whom both sov'reign power and Father's voice
I have to use; thy frank election make;
Thou hast power to chuse, and they none to forsake.

Hel.
To each of you, one fair and virtuous Mistress
Fall, when love please! marry, to each but one.—

Laf.
I'd give bay curtal and his furniture,
My mouth no more were broken than these boys,
And writ as little beard.

King.
Peruse them well:
Not one of those, but had a noble Father. [She addresses her self to a Lord.

Hel.
Gentlemen, Heaven hath, through me, restor'd
The King to health.

All.
We understand it, and thank Heav'n for you.

Hel.
I am a simple Maid, and therein wealthiest,
That, I protest, I simply am a Maid.—
Please it your Majesty, I have done already:
The Blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me,
“We blush that thou should'st chuse, but be refus'd;
“Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever,
“We'll ne'er come there again.

King.
Make Choice, and see,
Who shuns thy love, shuns all his love in me.

Hel.
Now, Dian, from thy Altar do I fly,
And to imperial Love, that God most high,
Do my sighs stream: Sir, will you hear my suit?

1 Lord.
And grant it.

Hel.
(17) ^note

Laf.
I had rather be in this choice, than throw
Ames-ace for my life.

Hel.
The honour, Sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
Before I speak, too threatningly replies:
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
Her that so wishes, and her humble love!

2 Lord.
No better, if you please.

Hel.
My wish receive,
Which great Love grant! and so I take my leave.

Laf.

Do all they deny her? if they were Sons of mine, I'd have them whip'd, or I would send them to the Turk to make eunuchs of.

Hel.
Be not afraid that I your hand should take,
I'll never do you wrong for your own sake:
Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!

Laf.

These boys are boys of ice, they'll none of her: sure, they are bastards to the English, the French ne'er got 'em.

Hel.
You are too young, too happy, and too good,
To make your self a Son out of my blood.

4 Lord.
(18) ^note
Fair one, I think not so.

Laf.
There's one grape yet,—

Par.
I am sure, thy Father drunk Wine.—

Laf.
But if Thou be'est not an Ass, I am a
Youth of fourteen. I have known thee already.

Hel.
I dare not say, I take you; but I give
Me and my service, ever whilst I live,

Into your guiding power; this is the Man. [To Bertram.

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,
What she hath done for me?

Ber.
Yes, my good Lord,
But never hope to know why I should marry her.

King.
Thou know'st, she has rais'd me from my sickly bed.

Ber.
But follows it, my Lord, to bring me down
Must answer for your raising? I know her well:
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,
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 dislik'st,
A poor Physician's Daughter,) thou dislik'st
Of Virtue for the name: but do not so.
(19) ^note
From lowest Place when virtuous things proceed,
The Place is dignify'd by th' doer's deed.
Where great Addition swells, and Virtue none,
It is a dropsied honour; good alone,
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,
Which challenges it self as honour's born,
And is not like the fire. (20) ^note




Honours best thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers: the meer Word's a slave
Debaucht on every tomb, on every grave;
A lying trophy; (21) ^note

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 can'st like this Creature as a Maid,
I can create the rest: virtue and she,
Is her own dow'r; honour and wealth from me.

Ber.
I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.

King.
Thou wrong'st thy self, if thou should'st strive to chuse.

Hel.
That you are well restor'd, my Lord, I'm glad:
Let the rest go.—

King.
(22) ^note


My honour's at the stake; which to defend,
I must produce my Power. Here, take her hand,

Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift!
That dost in vile misprision shackle up
My love, and her desert; that canst not dream,
We poizing us in her defective scale,
Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know,
It is in us to plant thine honour, where
We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt:
Obey our Will, which travels in thy good;
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient Right,
Which both thy duty owes, and our power claims:
Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
Into the staggers, and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance; my revenge and hate
Loosing upon thee in the name of justice,
Without all terms of pity. Speak thine answer.

Ber.
Pardon, my gracious Lord; for I submit
My fancy to your eyes. When I consider,
What great Creation, and what dole of Honour
Flies where you bid; I find, that she, which late
Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
The praised of the King; who, so ennobled,
Is, as 'twere, born so.

King.
Take her by the hand,
And tell her, she is thine: to whom I promise
A counterpoize; if not in thy estate,
A ballance more repleat.

Ber.
I take her hand.

King.
Good fortune, and the favour of the King
Smile upon this Contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
And be perform'd to night; the solemn Feast
Shall more attend upon the coming space,
Expecting absent Friends. As thou lov'st her,
Thy love's to me religious; else does err. [Exeunt. Manent Parolles and Lafeu.

Laf.

Do you hear, Monsieur? a word with you.

Par.

Your pleasure, Sir?

Laf.

Your Lord and Master did well to make his recantation.

Par.

Recantation?—my Lord? my Master?

Laf.

Ay, is it not a language I speak?

Par.

A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding. My master?

Laf.

Are you companion to the Count Rousillon?

Par.

To any Count; to all Counts; to what is man.

Laf.

To what is Count's man; Count's master is of another stile.

Par.

You are too old, Sir; let it satisfie you, you are too old.—

Laf.

I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which title age cannot bring thee.

Par.

What I dare too well do, I dare not do.

Laf.

I did think thee, for two Ordinaries, to be a pretty wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy travel, it might pass; yet the scarfs and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and that thou'rt scarce worth.

Par.

Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee—

Laf.

(23) ^note