King.
^{1 note}

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, he owes the malady
That does my life besiege. Farewel, young lords;
Whether I live or die, be you the sons
Of worthy Frenchmen: ^{3 note}

(Those 'bated, that inherit but the fall
Of the last monarchy) see, that you come
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: ^{4 note}
beware of being captives,
Before you serve.

Both.
Our hearts receive your warnings.

King.
Farewel.—Come hither to me. [The King retires to a couch.

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

Ber.
I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,
Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,
'Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn,
But one to dance with! By heaven, 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.

^{6 note}

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:— ^{5 note}You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii, one captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword entrench'd it: say to him, I live; and observe his reports for me.

2 Lord.

We shall, noble captain.

Par.

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

Ber.

Stay; the king—

Par.

Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have restrain'd yourself within the list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to them; for ^{7 note}

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 has bought his pardon^{8 note}. 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, ^{9 note}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? ^{1 note}yes, but you will,
My noble grapes, an if my royal fox
Could reach them: ^{2 note}

I have seen a medecin,
That's able to breathe life into a stone;
Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
With sprightly fire and motion; whose simple touch
Is powerful to araise king Pepin, nay,
To give great Charlemain a pen in his hand,
And write to her a love-line.

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, ^{3 note}her years, profession,
Wisdom, and constancy, hath amaz'd me more
Than I dare blame my weakness^{4 note}: 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 am Cressid's uncle^{5 note},
That dare leave two 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 praises toward him;
Knowing him, is enough. On his bed of death

Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one,
Which, as the dearest issue of his practice,
And of his old experience the only darling,
He bad me store up, as a triple eye^{6 note},
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^{7 note}



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 answer nature
From her inaidable estate,—I say 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 miracles have by the greatest been deny'd^{8 note}

King.
I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid;
Thy pains, not us'd, must by thyself 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 heaven we count the act of men.
Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impostor, that proclaim
^{9 note}

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

Hel.
The greatest grace lending grace^{1 note},
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^{2 note}

Sear'd otherwise; no worse of worst extended,
With vilest torture let my life be ended.

King.
^{3 note}

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^{4 note};
^{5 note}Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all
That happiness and ^{6 note}

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.
^{7 note}


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 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^{8 note}

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;
Though, 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, ho!—If thou proceed
As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed. [Exeunt.

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