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That truth should be suspected; speak, is’t so?
If it be so, you've wound a goodly clew;
If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee,
As heav’n shall work in me for thine avail,
To tell me true.
Hel. Good madam, pardon me!
Count. Do you
you love my fon?
Hel. Your pardon, noble mistress !
Count. Love you my son ?
Hel. Do not you love him, madam ?
Count. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond,
Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose
The state of your affection; for your passions
Have to the full appeach'd.
Hel. Then I confess,
Here on my knee, before high heav'ns and you,
That, before you, and next unto high heav'n,
I love your son:
My friends were poor, but honest; so’s
so's my love :
Be not offended; for it hurts not him,
That he is lov'd of me: I follow him not
By any token of presumptuous suit;
Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him;
Yet never know how that desert should be:
I know, I love in vain, strive against hope ;
Yet, in this captious and intenible sieve,
I still pour in the water of my love,
And lack not to lose ftill: thus Indian-like,
Religious in mine errour, I adore
The sun that looks upon his worshipper,
But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
Let not your hate encounter with my love,
For loving where you do; but, if yourself,
Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
Did ever in so true a fame of liking
Wish chastly, and love dearly, that your
X x 2
Was both herself and love; o, then give pity
To her, whose state is such, she cannot choose
But lend, and give, where she is sure to lose;
That seeks not to find that which search implies,
But, riddle-like, lives sweetly where she dies.
Count. Had you not lately an intent, speak truly,
To go to Paris?
Hel. I had.
Count. Wherefore ? tell true.
Hel. I will tell truth; by grace itself, I swear :
You know, my father left me some prescriptions
Of rare and proy'd effects, such as his reading,
And manifest experience, had collected
For general sov’reignty; and that he will’d me
In heedfull’ft reservation to bestow them,
As notes, whose faculties inclusive were
More than they were in note: amongst the rest,
There is a remedy, approv'd, set down,
To cure the desperate languishings, whereof
The king is render'd loft.
Count. This was your motive for Paris, was it, speak?
Hel. My lord your son made me to think of this ;
Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king,
Had, from the conversation of my thoughts,
Haply, been absent then.
Count. But think you, Helen,
If you should tender your supposed aid,
He would receive it?" he and his physicians
Are of a mind; he, that he can't be help'd;
They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit
A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
Embowell’d of their doctrine, have left off
The danger to itself?
Hel. There's something hints,
More than my father's skill
, which was the great'st
Of his profession, that his good receipt
Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified
By th' luckiest stars in heav'n: and, would your honour
But give me leave to try success, I'd venture
This well-loft life of mine on his grace's cure,
By such a day and hour.
Count. Do'st thou believe it?
Hel. Ay, madam, knowingly.
Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave, and love,
Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings
To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home,
And pray god's blessing upon thy attempt :
Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,
What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss. [Exeunt.
The Court of France.
Enter the King, with two young Lords taking leave for the
Florentine war. Bertram, and Parolles. Flourish cornets.
AREWEL, young lord; these warlike principles
Do not throw from you: you, my lord, farewel :
Share the advice betwixt you: if both gain, well!
The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv’d,
And is enough for both.
I 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
life besiege: farewel, young lords; Whether I live, or die, be you the fons
Of worthy Frenchmen : let higher Italy ·
(Those bastards that inherit but the fall
Of the last monarchy b) see, that you come
Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
The bravest queftant 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.
[Exit. i Lord. O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us ! Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark 2 Lord. O, 'tis brave wars. Par. Most admirable; I have seen those wars.
Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with;
young, and the next year, and 'tis too early.
Par. An thy mind stand to it, boy, steal away bravely.
Ber. Shall I stay here the forehorfe to a smock,
Creeking my shoes on the plain masonry,
Till honour be brought up, and no sword worn,
But one to dance with ? by heav'n, l’ll steal away.
i Lord. There's honour in the theft.
Par. Commit it, count.
2 Lord. I am your acceffary; and so farewel.
and this our parting is A tortur'd body.
i Lord. Farewel, worthy captain.
• The ancient geographers have divided Italy into the higher and the lower, the Appennine bills being a kind of natural line of partition; the side next the Adriatick was denominated the higher Italy, and the other side the lower : and the two seas followed the same terms of distinction, the Adriatick being called the upper sea, and the Tyrrhene or Tuscan the lower. Now the Sennones or Senois, with whom the Florentines are here siipposed to be at war, inhabited the higher Italy, their chief town being Ariminum, now called Rimini, upon the Adriatick.
• Reflecting upon the abject and degenerate condition of the cities and states which arose out of the ruins of the Roman empire, the last of the four great monarchies of the world.
2 Lord. Sweet monsieur Parolles !
Par. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin; good sparks and lustrous ! A word, good metals: you shall find, in the regiment of the Spinii, one captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his finister cheek; it was this very
sword intrench'd it; say to him, I live; and observe his reports of me.
i Lord. We shall noble captain.
Par. Mars dote on you for his novices ! what will
do? Ber. Stay; the king
[Ex. Lords. 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 they wear themselves in the
of the time, there do muster together, dress, speak, and move under the influence of the most receiv'd star; and, though 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 finewy swordmen.
Enter the King, and Lafeu.
Laf. Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
King. I'll fee thee to stand up.
Laf. Then here's a man stands that hath brought 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. Good faith, across: but, my good lord, 'tis thus; Will you be cur’d of your infirmity ?
Laf. o, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will, an if my royal fox