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He would receive it? He and his Physicians
Are of one Mind; he, that they cannot help him:
They,' that they cannot help. How shall they credit
A poor unlearned Virgin, when the Schools.
Embowelld of their Doctrine, have left off
The Danger to it self?

Hel. There's something in't
More than my Father's Skill, which was the great'st
Of his Profession, that his good Receipt
Shall for my Legacy be fan&ified
By th' luckiest Stars in Heav'n; and would your Honour
But give me leave, for the success I'd venture
The well loft Life of mine, on his Grace's Cure,
By such a Day and Hour.

Count. Do'st thou believe't?
Hel. Ay, Mádam, knowingly,

Count. Why, Hellen, 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,

pray God's Blelling unto thy Attempt: Be gone to Morrow, and be sure of this, What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss. [Exeunt.


Enter the King with divers young Lords, taking leave for the

Florentine War. Bertram and Parolles. Flourish Cornets. King. F Arewel, young Lords: These warlike Principles

Do not throw from you; and you, my Lords,

Share the Advice betwixt you. If both gain, all
The Gift doth stretch it self as 'tis receiv'd,
And is enough for both.

I Lord. 'Tis our Hope, Sir,
After well entered 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


U 3

That doth my Life besiege; farewel, young Lords,
Whether I live or die, be you the Sons
Of worthy French Men; let higher Italy,
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 Question shrinks; find what you seek,
That Fame may cry you loud: I say, farewel.

i 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.
King. Farewel. Come hither to me.
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. And thy Mind stand to it, Boy; Steal away bravely.

Ber. I stay here the Forehorse to a Smock, Creeking my Shooes on the plain Masonry, 'Till Honour be bought up, and no Sword worn But one to dance with: By Heav'n I'll steal away. I Lord. There's Honour in the Theft. Par. Commit it, Count. 2 Lord. I am accefsary, and so farewel. Bere I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur’d Body. i Lard. Farewel, Captain. 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 Spinii, one Captain Spurio his Cicatrice, with an Emblem of War here on his finifter Check; it was this very Sword entrench'd it; fay to him, I live, and observe his Reports of me.

i Lord. We shall, noble Captain. Par. Mars doat on you for his Novices; what will ye do ?


Ber. Stay; the King.

Par. Ule a more spacious Ceremony to the noble Lords, you have restrain'd your self within the Lift of too cold an Adieu; be more expresfive to them, for they wear themselves in the Cap of the Time, there do muiter true Gate, eat, speak, and move under the Influence of the most receiv'd Star, and cho' the Devil lead the Measure, such are to be follow'd: After chem, and tak: a more dilated fare, wel.

Ber. And I will do so.

Par. Worthy Fellows, and like to prove most sinewy Sword.men.

[Exeunt. Enter Lafeu. Laf. Pardon, my Lord, for me and for my Tidings. King. I'll see thee to stand up.

(Pardon. Laf. Then here's a Man stands that hath' brought his I would

you had kneeld, my Lord, to ask me Mercy, And that at my Bidding you could so stand up.

King. I would I had, lo I had broke thy Pate, And ask'd thee Mercy for't.

Laf. Goodfaith a Cross, 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? Yes, but you will, my noble Grapes, and if My Royal Fox could reach them: I have seen a Medicine That's able to break 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 Pippen, nay, To give great Charlemain a Pen in's Hand, And write to her a Love-line.

King. What her is this?

Laf. Why Do&or She: My Lord, there's one arriy'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, her Years, Profession, Wisdom and Conftancy, hath amaz'd me more Than I dare blame my Weakness: Will you see her ? For that is her Demand, and know her Business? That done, laugh well as me,



King. Now, good Lafeu,
Bring in the Admiration, that we with thee
May spend our Wonder too, or take off thine,
By wondring. how thou took'st it.

Laf. Nay, I'll fit you,
And not be all Day neither.

King. Thus he his special nothing ever Prologues.
Laf. Nay, come your ways.

[Bringing in Helena. King. This hafte 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 Cressed's Uncle, That dare leave two together; fare you well. *[Exit.

King. Now, fair one, do's 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 towards him,
Knowing him is enough: On's Bed of Death
Many Receipts he gave me, namely one,
Which as the dearest Issue of his Practice,
And of his old Experience, th’ only Darling,
He bad me store up, as a Triple-Eye,
Safer than mine own two: More dear I have fo;
And hearing your high Majesty is touch'd
With that malignant Cause, wherein the Honour
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 Colledge have concluded,
That labouring Art can never ransome Nature
From her unaidable Estate: I say, we must not
So stain our Judgment, or corrupt our Hope,
To prostitute our paft-cure Malady
To Empericks, or to diffever fo

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Our great self and our Credit, to esteem
A senseless help, when help past fense we deem.

Hel. My Duty then shall pay me for my pains ;
I will no more enforce my Office on you,
Humbly intreating from your Royal Thoughts,
A modeft one to bear me back again.

King. I cannot give thee less, to be callid grateful;
Thou thought'st to help me, and such Thanks I give,
As one near Death to those that with 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,

you 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 fimple Sources; and great Seas have dried,
When Miracles have by the great'st been denied.
Oft Expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises : And oft it hits,
Where Hope is coldest, and Despair most shifts.

King. I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind Maid,
Thy pains not us’d, must by thy self be paid,
Proffers not took, reap Thanks for their Reward.

Hel. Inspired Merit fo by Breath is bar’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 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
My self 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 so confident? within what space
Hop'st thou my Cure?

Hel. The Greatest lending Grace,
E’er twice the Horses of the Sun shall bring
Their fiery Torcher his diurnal Ring.



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