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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’lt to help me, and such thanks I give,
As one near death to those that wilh him live;
But what at full I know, thou know't 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 reit '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 foods have flown, From fimple 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 molt fits.

King. I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid;
Thy pains, not us’d, muft 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 Tows :
But moft 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
Myself against the level of mine aim,
But know I think, and think I know most sure,
My art is not paft power, nor you past cure.

King. Art thou to confident? within what space
Hop'it thou my cure ?

Hel. The greatest grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horses of the sun Mall 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


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Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass ;
What is infirm from your found parts shall fly,
Health shall live free, and sickness freely die.

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

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

King. Methinks, in thee fome bleiled spirit doth speak
His powerful sound, within an organ weak;
And what impoflibility would say
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) Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all
That happiness and prime can happy call;
Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate
Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate.
Sweet practiser, thy phyfick 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
But if I help, what do you promise me?
King. (14) Make thy demand,



(13) Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all &c.] This verse is too short by a foot; and apparently fome diffyllable is drop ‘d out by mil. chance. Mr. Warburton concurrid with me in conjecture to supply the verse thus:

Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all &c.
Helena had laid a particular stress on her maiden reputation; and the
King, afterwards, when he comes to speak of her to Bertram, says;

If he be
All that is virtuous, (save, what thou dinik'it,
A poor physician's daughter;) thou Jilik't

Of virtue for her name:
(14) King. Make thy demand.

Hel. But will you make it even?
King. Ay, by my scepter and my bopes of help.]


Hil. 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 commind.
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 ihy state :
But such a one thy vasfal, whom I know
Is free for me to ask, thee to below.

King. Here is my hand, the premises obfervid, Thy will by my performance Niall be servd: So, make the choice of thine own time; for I, Thy resolv'd patient, on thee ftill rely. More should I question thee, and more I must; (Tho' more to know, could not be more to trust :) From whence thou cam't, how tended on,--but reit 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 changes to Rousillen.

Count. C height

of your breeding

Enter Countess, and Clown.
YOME on, Sir; I shall now put you to the

Clo. I will shew myself highly fed, and lowly taughi; 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 å man any manners, he may easily put it off at court: he that The King could have but a very night hope of belp from her, scarce enough to swear by: and therefore Helen might linipect, he meant to equivocate with her. Besides, observe, the greatest part of the scene is strictly in rhyme: and there is no shadow of reason why it should be interrupted here. I rather imagine, the poet wrote; Ay, by my scepter, and my bopes of heav'n.



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cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand, and tay 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


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 ruth for Tom's fore-finger, as a pancake for ShroveTuesday, 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.

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

Cle. 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.

Court. 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


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 shipping, and spare not me? indeed, your O Lord, Sir, is very sequent to your whipping: you would anfuer very well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't.

Clo. I ne'er had worse luck in my life, in myLord, Sir; I see, things may serve long, but not serve

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. An 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 under-



stand me.

Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before my legs.
Count. Haíte you again.

[Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Court of France.

Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles,

HEY say, miracles are past ; and we

have our philosophical persons to make modern, and familiar, things fupernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors ; ensconfing ourfelves into feeming knowledge, when we Thould submit ourselves to an unknown fear.

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

Ber. And fo 'tis.

Laf. (15) TI

(15). They Say miracles are past, and we have our pb Mophical ferfuns to make modern and familiar things Supernatural and causeless.) This, as it has hitherto been pointed, is directly oppofite to our pret's, and his speaker's, meaning. As I have fop'd it, the sense quadrates with the context: and, furely, it is one unalterable property of philosophy, to make seeming Itrange and preternatural Planomen, a familiar, and reducible to cause and reason.


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