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Hel. Ay, my good Lord.

Gerard de Narbon was my father,

In what he did profefs, well found.

King. I knew him.

Hel. The rather will I fpare my praife toward him; Knowing him, is enough on's bed of death

Many receipts he gave me, chiefly one,
Which as the deareft iffue of his practice,
And of his old experience th' only darling,
He bade me ftore up, as a triple eye,

Safer than mine. own two: more dear I have fo;
And hearing your high Majefty is touch'd

With that malignant caufe, wherein the honour
Of my dear father's gift ftands chief in power,
I come to tender it, and my appliance,
With all bound humblenefs.

King. We thank you, maiden;
But may not be fo credulous of cure,
When our moft learned doctors leave us; and
The congregated college have concluded,
That labouring art can never ranfom nature
From her unaidable eftate: we muft not
So ftain our judgment, or corrupt our hope,
To prostitute our paft-cure malady

To empirics; or to diffever fo

Our great felf and our credit, to esteem

A fenfelefs help, when help paft fenfe we deem.
Hel. My duty then fhall pay me for my pains;
I will no more inforce mine office on you;
Humbly intreating from your royal thoughts
A modeft one to bear me back again.

King. I cannot give thee lefs, to be call'd grateful;
Thou thought it to help me, and fuch thanks I give,
As one near death to thofe that with him live;
But what at fall I know, thou know'it no part
I knowing all my peril, thou no art.

Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try, Since you fet up your reft 'gainft remedy.

He

He that of greatest works is finisher,

Oft does them by the weakest minister:

So holy writ in babes hath judgment fhown,

When judges have been babes; great floods have flown
From fimple fources; and great feas have dry'd,
When mir'cles have by th' greatest been deny'd.
Oft expectation fails, and moft oft there
Where most it promifes! and oft it hits
Where hope is coldeft, and despair most fits.

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King. I muft not hear thee; fare thee well, kind
Thy pains, not us’'d, must by thyfelf be paid: [maid;
Proffers not took, reap thanks for their reward.
Hel. Infpired merit fo by breath is barr'd
It is not fo with him that all things knows,
As 'tis with us, that fquare our guefs by fhows:
But most it is prefumption in us, when
The help of Heav'n we count the act of men.
Dear Sir, to my endeavours give confent,
Of Heav'n, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impoftor, that proclaim
Myfelf against the level of mine aim;

But know I think, and think I know most fure,
My art is not past power, nor you past cure.

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

Hel. The greatest grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horfes of the fun fhall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring;
Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
Moift Hesperus hath quench'd his fleepy lamp;
Or four and twenty times the pilot's glafs
Hath told the thievifh minutes how thy pafs;
What is infirm from your found parts fhall fly.
Health fhall live free, and fickness freely die,
King. Upon thy certainty and confidence,
What dar't thou venture?

Hel. Tax of impudence,

A ftrumpet's boldnefs, a divulged fhame,
Traduce'd by odious ballads: my maiden's name
Scar'd otherwife, no worfe of worst extended;
With vileft torture let my life be ended.

King. Methinks, in thee fome bleffed fpirit doth fpeak
His power full founds within an organ weak;
And what impoffibility would flay

In common fenfe, fenfe faves another way.
Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate;
Youth, beauty, wifdom, courage, virtue, all
That happiness and prime can happy call;
Thou this to hazard, needs muft intimate
Skill infinite, or monstrous defperate.
Sweet practifer, thy phyfic I will try ;
That minifters thine own death, if I die.

Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property

Of what I fpoke, unpitied let me die,

And well deferv'd! Not helping, death's my fee;
But if I help, what do you promise me?

King. Make thy demand.

Hel. But will you make it even ?

King. Ay, by my fceptre, and my hopes of heaven. Hel. Then fhalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand, What husband in thy power I will command. Exempted be from me the arrogance

To chufe from forth the Royal blood of France;
My low and humble name to propagate
With any branch or impage of thy ftate:
But fuch a one thy vaffal, whom I know
Is free for me to afk, thee to bestow.

King. Here is my hand, the premiffes obferv'd,
Thy will by my performance fhall be ferv'd:
So, make the choice of thine own time; for I,
Thy refolv'd patient, on thee ftill rely.

More fhould I question thee, and more I must;
(Though more to know, could not be more to truft):
From whence thou cam'ft, how tended on,--but reft
Unqueftion'd welcome, and undoubted bleft.
Give me fome help here, hoa ! if thou proceed
As high as word, my deed fhall match thy deed.

[Exeunt:

SCENE

SCENE IV. Changes to Roufillon.

Enter Countefs and Clown.

Count. Come on, Sir; I fhall now put you to the. height of your breeding.

Clo. I will fhew myfelf highly fed, and lowly taught; I know my bufinefs is but to the court.

Count. But to the court? why, what place make you fpecial, when you put off that with fuch 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 fay nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed fuch a fellow, to fay precifely, were not for the court: but for me, I have an anfwer will ferve 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.

Gount. Will your anfwer ferve 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 rufh for Tom's fore-finger, as a pancake for" Shrove-Tuesday, a moris for May-day, as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a fcolding 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 fay, an anfwer of fuch fitnefs for all questions?

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

Count. It must be an anfwer of most monftrous fize, that must fit all demands.

Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned fnould speak truth of it; here it is, and all that belongs to't. Aik me, if I am a courtier :—— -it fhall do

you no harm to learn.

Count. To be young again, if we could: I will be a VOL. III.

D

fool

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fool in a queftion, hoping to be the wifer by your anfwer. I pray you, Sir, are you a courtier ?

Clo. O Lord, Sir -there's a fimple putting off: more, more, a hundred of them,

Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of your's, that loves you.

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Clo. O Lord, Sir, thick, thick, fpare not me.
Count. I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely

meat.

Clo, O Lord, Sir,

you.

-nay, put me to't, I warrant

Count. You were lately whipp'd, Sir, as I think.
Clo. O Lord, Sir,

fpare not me.

Count. Do you cry, Lord, Sir, at your whipping, and Spare not me? Indeed, your O Lord, Sir, is very fequent to your whipping, you would answer very well to a whipping, if you were bound to't.

Clo. I ne'er had worfe luck in my life, in my

O Lord, Sir; I fee, things may ferve long, but not ferve ever,

Count. I play the noble hufwife with the time, to entertain it fo merrily with a fool.

Cla. O Lord, Sir,why there't ferves again. Count. An end, Sir; to your bufinefs: give Helen this, And urge her to a prefent anfwer back.

Commend me to my kinfinen, and my fon:

This is not much.

Clo. Not much commendation to them?

Count, Not much employment for you; you underfland me?

Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before
Count. Hafte you again.

my legs.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Changes to the court of France.

Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles.

Laf. They fay miracles are paft; and we have our philofophical perfons to make modern, and famillar, things fupernatural and caufelefs. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; enfconfing ourselves into * Aidicule on that foolish expletive of fpeech then in vogue at

court.

feeming

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