Count. Wherefore? tell true. Hel. I will tell truth; by grace itself, I swear. For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me To cure the desperate languishings whereof Count. For Paris, was it? speak. This was your motive Hel. My lord your son made me to think of this; Had, from the conversation of my thoughts, 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 they cannot help him, 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 greatest Of his profession, that his good receipt Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour But give me leave to try success, I'd venture The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure Count. Dost thou believ't? 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 God's blessing into thy attempt: What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss. [Exeunt. SCENE I-Paris. A Room in the King's Palace. Flourish. Enter King, with young Lords, taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and Attendants. King. Farewell, young lord; these warlike principles Do not throw from you :-and you, my lord, farewell :Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all, The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv'd, And is enough for both. First Lord. It is 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 doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy1 (Those bated,2 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, farewell. Second Lord. Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! Both. Our hearts receive your warnings. [The King retires to a couch. King. Farewell.-Come hither to me. First Lord. O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! Par. 'Tis not his fault, the spark. Second Lord. O, 'tis brave wars! Par. Most admirable: I have seen those wars. Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with- 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. Par. Commit it, Count. Second Lord. I am your accessary; and so farewell. Second 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 sinister cheek; it was this very sword intrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his reports for me. Second Lord. We shall, noble captain. Par. Mars dote on you for his novices! [Exeunt Lords.] What will ye do? Ber. Stay; the king [Seeing him rise. Par. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have restrained yourself 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 gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most received star; and though the devil lead the measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. Ber. And I will do so. Par. Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword men. [Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES. Enter LAFEU. Laf. Pardon, my lord [Kneeling], for me and for my tidings. King. I'll fee thee to stand up. Laf. Then here's a man stands, that has 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? O, will you eat No grapes, my royal fox? yes, but you will, Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary, 4 With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch |