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A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear;

For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend Ilis humble ambition, proud humility,

Prejudicates the business, and would seem llis jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, To have us make denial. Ilis faith, his sweet disaster; with a world

1 Lord. His love and wisdom, Of pretty, fond, adoptious christeudoms,

Approv'd so to your majesty, may plead
That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he - For amplest credence.
I know not what he shall. - God send him well! - King. Ile hath arn’d our answer,
The court's a learning-place; - and he is one — And I lorence is denied before he comes:
Par. What one, i'faith?

Yet, for our gentlemen, that mean to see
Hel. That I wish well. — 'Tis pity-

The Tuscan service, freely they have leave Par. What's pity ?

To stand on either part. llel. That wishing well had not a body in't,

2 Lord. It may well serve Which might be felt: that we, the poorer born, A

nursery to our gentry, who are sick Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,

For breathing and exploit. Might with ellects of them follow our friends,

King. What's he comes here? And show what we alone must think; which never

Enter BertraM, Lafeo, and PAROLLES. Returns us thanks.

Lord. It is the count Rousillon, my good lord,
Enter a Page.

Young Bertram.
Page. Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. King. Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face;

[Exit Page. Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, Par. Little Helen, farewell! if I can remember thee, Hath well compos’d thee. Thy father's moral parts I will think of thee at court.

May'st thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris ! Hel. Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a cha- Ber. My thanks and duty are your majesty's. ritable star.

King. I would I had that corporal soundness vow, Par. Under Mars, I.

As when thy father, and myself, in friendship Hel. I especialiv think, under Mars.

First tried our soldiership! He did look far Par. Whyunder Mars?

Into the service of the time, and was Hel. The wars have so kept you under, that you must Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; needs be born under Mars.

But on us both did haggish age steal on, Par. When he was predominant.

And wore us out of act. It much repairs me llel. When he was retrograde, J, think, rather. To talk of your good father. In his youth Par. Why think you so ?

Ile had the wit, which I can well observe
Hel. You go so much backward, w

when
you fight.

To-day in our young lords; but they may jest,
Par. That's for advantage.

Till their own scorn return to them unnoted, Ilel. So is running away, when fear proposes the Ere they can hide their levity in honour. safety: but the composition, that your valour and fear Solike a courtier, contempt nor bitterness makes in you, is a virtue of a good wing; and I like the Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, wear well.

His equal had awak'd them; and his honour, Par. I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer the Clock to itself, knew the true minute, when acutely: I will return perfect courtier; in the which, Exception bid him speak, and, at this time, my instruction shall serve to naturalize thee, so thou His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him, wilt be capable of a courtier's counsel, and understand He us’d as creatures of another place; what advice shall thrust upon thee; else thou diest in And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, thine unthankfulness, and thine ignorance makes thee Making them proud of his humility, away: farewell! When thou hast leisure, say thy In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man prayers; when thou hast none, remember thy friends: Might be a copy to these younger times, get thee a good husband, and use him as he uses thee: Which, follow'd well, would démonstrate them now so farewell!

[Exit. But goers backward. Hel. Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie,

Ber. His good remembrance, sir, Which weascribe to heaven: the fated sky

Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb; Gives us free scope; only, doth backward pull So in approof lives not his epitaph, Our slow designs, when we ourselves are dull. As in your royal speech. What power is it, which moucts my love so high? King.'Would I were with him! He would always say, That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? (Methinks, I hear him now; his plausive words The mightiest space in fortune nature brings

He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, To join like likes, and kiss like nativethings. To grow there, and to bear,) Let me not live,Impossible be strange attempts, to those

Thus his good melancholy oft began, That weigh their pains in sense; and do suppose, On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, What hath been cannot be. Who ever strove

When it was out,-let me not live, quoth he, To show her merit, that did miss her love?

After my flame lacks oil ,to be the snuff The king's disease-my project may deceive me, of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses But my intents are fix’d, and will not leave me. (Exit. All but new things disdain ; whose judgements are

Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies SCENE II.- Paris. A room in the King's palace. Expire before their fashions! - This he wish'd : Flourish of cornets. Enter the King of France, with I, after him, do after him wish too,

leiters; Lords and others attending. Since I nor wax, nor honey, can bring home,
King. The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears ; I quickly were dissolved from my hive,
Have fought with equal fortune, and continue To give some labourers room.
A braving war.

2 Lord. You are loved, sir; 1 Lord. So 'tis reported, sir.

They, that least lend it you, shall lack you

first. King. Nay, 'tis most credible; we here receive it King. I fill a place, I know't. - How long is't, count, A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Anstria, Since the physician at your father's died ? With caution, that the Florentine will move us He was much fam'd.

!

Ber. Some six months since, my lord.

Count. Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon. King. If he were living, I would try him yet ; Stew. May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen Lend me an arm;— the rest have worn me out come to you: of her I am to speak. With several applications!— nature and sickness Count. Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman, I would speak Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count;

with her; Helen I mean. My son's no dearer.

Clo.Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,(Singing. Ber. Thank your majesty. [Exeunt. Flourish. Why the Grecians sacked Troy?

Fond done, done fond, SCENE III. -Rousillon. A room in the Countess's Was this king Priam's joy. palace.

With that she sighed as she stood,
Enter Countess, Steward, and Clown.

With that she sighed as she stood, Count. I will now hear: what say you of this gentle And gave this sentence then; woman?

Among nine bad if one be good, Stew. Madam, the care I have had to even your con Among nine bad if one be good, tent, I wish might be found in the calendar of my past There's yet one good in ten. endeavours; for then we wound our modesty, and Count. What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, make foul the clearness of our deservings, when of sirrah ! ourselves we publish them.

Clo.One good woman in ten, madam; which is a puriCount. What does this knave here? Get you gone, fying o’the song. 'Would God would serve the world sirrah! The complaints I have heard of you, I do not so all the year! we'd find no fault with the tythe-woall believe;

'tis my slowness, that I do not: for, I know, man, if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! an we you lack not the folly to commit them, and have abi- might have a good woman born but every blazing star, lity enough to make such knaveries yours.

or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery well: a Clo. 'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor man may draw his heart ont, ere he pluck one. fellow.

Count. You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I comCount. Well, sir.

mand you? Clo. No,madam,'tis not so well that I am poor, though clo.That man should be at woman's command, and yet many of the rich are damn'd: but if I may have your no hurt done!- Though honesty be no puritan, yet it ladyship's good-will to go to the world, Isbel the wo- will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of humility man and I will do as we may.

over the black gown of a big heart.I am going, forsooth: Count. Wilt thou needs be a beggar?

the business is for Helen to come hither. (Exit Clown. Clo. I do beg your good-will in this case.

Count. Well row. Count. In what case ?

Stew.I know,madam,you love your gentlewoman enClo. In Isbel's case, and mine own. Service is no tirely. heritage: and, I think, I shall never have the blessing Count. Faith, I do : her father bequeathed her to me; of God, till I have issue of my body; for, they say, and she herself, without other advantage, may lawbearns are blessings.

fully make title to as much love as she finds: there is Count. Tell me thy reason, why thou wilt marry. more owing her, than is paid; and more shall be paid Clo. My poor body, madam, requires it:I am driven her, than she'll demand. on by the flesh; and he must needs go, that the devil Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her than, drives.

I think, she wished me: alone she was, and did comCount. Is this all your worship’s reason?

municate to herself, her own words to her own ears; Clo. Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons, such she thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any as they are.

stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son : Count. May the world know them?

Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put such Clo. I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you difference betwixt their two estates; Love, no god, that and all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry, would not extend his might, only where qualities were that I may repent.

level ; Diana, no queen of virgins, that would suffer Count. Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. her poor knight to be surprised, withont rescue, in the

Clo. I am out of friends, madam; and I hope to have first assault, or ransom afterward. This she delivered friends for my wife's sake.

in the most bitter touch of sorrow,that e'er I heard virCount. Such friends are thine enemies, knave. gin exclaimin: which I held my duty, speedily to acClo. You are shallow, madam ; e'en great friends; for quaint you withal;sithence,in the loss that may happen, the knaves come to do that for me, which I am a-weary it concerns you something to know it. of. He, that ears my land, spares my team, and gives Count. You have discharged this honestly; keep it me leave to inn the crop : if I be his cuckold, he's my to yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this bedrudge. He, that comforts my wife, is the cherisher of fore, which hung so tottering in the balance, that I my flesh and blood; he, that cherishes my flesh and could neither believe, nor misdoubt. Pray you, leave blood, loves my flesh and blood; he, that loves my flesh me: stall this in your bosom, and I thank you for your and blood, is my friend: ergo, he that kisses my wife, honest care: I will speak with you further anon. is my friend.Jf men could be contented to be what they

(Exit Steward. are, there were no fear in marriage; for youngCharbon,

Enter Helena. the puritan,and old Poysam, the papist, howsoe'er their count. Even so it was with me, when I was young: hearts are severed in religion their heads are both one, If we are nature's, these are ours: this thorn they may joll horns together, like any deer i't he herd. Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong;

Count. Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouth'd and calum Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; nious knave?

It is the show and seal of nature's truth, Clo. A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: next way:

By our remembrances of days foregone, For I the ballad will repeat,

Such were our faults ;-or then we thought them none. Which men full true shall find;

Her eye is sick on't; I observe her now.
Your marriage comes by destiny,

Hel. What is your pleasure, madam?
Your cuckoo sings by kind.

Count. You know, Helen,

I am a mother to you.

I still pour in the waters of my love, Hel. Mine honourable mistress.

And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, Count. Nay, a mother;

Religious in mine error, I adore
Why not a mother? When I said, a mother,

The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
Methought you saw a serpent: what's in mother, But knows of him no more. My dearest madam,
That you start at it? I say, I am your mother; Let not your hate encounter with my love,
And put you in the catalogue of those,

For loving where you do: but, if yourself,
That were enwombed mine. 'Tis often seen,

Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
Adoption strives with nature; and choice breeds Did ever, in so true a flame of liking,
A native slip to us from foreign seeds;

Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your Dian You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, Was both herself and love: O then give pity Yet I express to you a mother's care:

To her, whose state is such, that cannot choose God's mercy, maiden ! does it curd thy blood, But lend and give, where she is sure to lose; To say, I am thy mother? What's the matter, That seeks not to find that her search implies, That this distemper'd messenger of wet,

But, riddle-like, lives sweetly, where she dies. The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye? Count. Had you not lately an intent, speak truly, Why? -that you are my daughter?

To go to Paris? Hel. That I am not.

Hel. Madam, I had. Count. I say, I am your mother.

Count. Wherefore? tell true. Hel. Pardon, madam;

Hel. I will tell truth; by grace itself, I swear. The count Rousillon cannot be my brother:

You know, my father left me some prescriptions I am from humble, he from honour'd name :

of rare and prov'd effects, such as his reading, No note upon my parents, his all noble:

And manifest experience, had collected My master, my dear lord heis; and I

For general sovereignty; and that he will’d me His servant live, and will his vassal die:

In heedfullest reservation to bestow them, He must not be my brother.

As notes, whose faculties inclusive were,
Count. Nor I your mother?

More than they were in note: amongst the rest,
Hel. You are my mother, madam; 'would you were There is a remedy, approv'd, set down,
(So that my lord, your son, were not my brother,) To cure the desperate languishes, whereof
Indeed my mother!-or, were you both our mothers, The king is render'd lost.
I care no more for, than I do for heaven,

Count. This was your motive
So I were not his sister. Can't no other,

For Paris, was it? speak!
But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? Hel. My lord your son made me to think of this;

Count. Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law; Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king,
God shield, you mean it not! daughter, and mother, Had, from the conversation of my thoughts,
So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again? Haply, been absent then.
My fear hath catch'd your fondness. Now I see Count. But think you, Helen,
The mystery of your loneliness, and find

If you should tender your supposed aid,
Your salt tears' head. Now to all sense 'tis gross, He would receive it?' He and his physicians
You love my son; invention is asham’d,

Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, Against the proclamation of thy passion,

They, that they cannot help. How shall they credit To say, thou dost not: therefore tell me true; A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, But tell me then, 'tis so :-for, look, thy cheeks Embowell’d of their doctrine, have left off Confess it, one to the other; and thine eyes

The danger to itself? See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours,

Hel. There's something hints, That in their kind they speak it : only sin

More than my father's skill, which was the greatest And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,

of his profession, that his good receipt That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified If it be so, you have wound a goodly clue;

By the luckiest stars in heaven:and, would your honour If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, But give me leave to try success, I'd venture As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,

The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure, To tell me truly.

By such a day and hour. Hel. Good madam, pardon me!

Count. Dost thou believe't? Count. Do you love my son ?

Hel. Ay, madam, knowingly. Hel. Your pardon, noble mistress !

Count. Why,Helen, thou shalt have my leave, and love, Count. Love you my son ?

Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings Hel. Do not you love him, madam ?

To those of mine in court. I'll stay at home,
Count. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, And pray God's blessing into thy attempt:
Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,
The state of your affection; for your passions What I can help theeto, thou shalt not miss. (Exeunt.
Have to the full appeach'd.

Hel. Then, I confess,
Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,

Аст II.
That before you, and next unto high heaven,

SCENE I–Paris. A room in the King's palace. I love your son :

Flourish. Enter King, with young Lords taking leave My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love. for the Florentine war ; Beutras, PaROLLES,

and Be not offended for it hurts not him,

Attendants. That he is lov'd of me: I follow him not

King.Farewell, young lords, these warlike principles By any token of presumptnous suit;

Do not throw from you:-and you, my lords, farewell! Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him;

Share the advice betwixt you ; if both gain all, Yet never know, how that desert should be.

The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv'd, I know, I love in vain, strive against hope;

And is enough for both. Yet, in this captious and intenible sieve

1 Lord. It is our hope, sir,

After well-enter'd soldiers, to return

My noble grapes, an if my royal for And find your grace in health.

Could reach them.. I have seen a medicine, King. No, no, it cannot be ; and yet my heart That's able to breathe life into a stone, Will not confess, he owes the malady

Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary, That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords ! With sprightly fire and motion; whose simple touch Whether I live or die, be you the sons

Is powerful to araise king Pepin, nay, Of worthy Frenchmen! let higher Italy,

To give great Charlemain a pen in his hand, (Those 'bated, that inherit but the fall

And write to her a love-line. Of the last monarchy, see, that

you come

King. What her is this? Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when

Laf. Why, doctor she. My lord, there's one arriv'd, The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, If you will see her, -now, by my faith and honour, That fame may cry you loud : I say, farewell ! If seriously I may convey my thoughts

2 Lord. Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! In this my light deliverance, I have spoke King. Those girls of Italy, take heed of them! With one, that, in her sex, her years, profession, They say, our l'rench lack language to deny,

Wisdom, and constancy, hath amaz'd me more, If they demand: beware of being captives,

Than I dare blame my weakness. Will you see her Before you serve.

(For that is her demand, and know her business? Both. Our hearts receive your warnings.

That done, laugh well at me! King. Farewell !- Come hither to me?

King. Now, good Lateu, {The King retires to a couch. Bring in the admiration ; that we with the 1 Lord.O my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! May spend our wonder too, or take off thine, Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark--

By wondering how thou touk'st it. 2 Lord. O, 'tis brave wars!

Laf. Nay, I'll sit you, Par. Most admirable: I have seen those wars. And not be all day neither.

[Exit Lafeu. Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with: King. Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. Too young, and the next year, and 'tis too early.

Re-enter LAFEU, with Helena.
Pur. Anthy mind stand to it, boy,steal away bravely: Laf. Nay, come your ways !
Ber. I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, King. This haste hath wings indeed.
Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry:

Laf: Nay, come your ways!
Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn, This is his majesty, say your mind to him:
But one to dance with! By heaven I'll steal away. A traitor you do look like; but such trailors
1 Lord. There's honour iu the theft.

His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle, Par. Commit it, count!

That dare leave two together; fare you well! (Exit. 2 Lord. I am your accessary; and so farewell, King. Now, fair one, does your business follow us ? Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. Hel. Ay, my good lord. Gerard de Narbon was 1 Lord. Farewell, captain!

My father'; in what he did profess, well found. 2 Lord. Sweet monsieur Parolles!

King. I knew him. Par. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Hel.The rather will I spare my praises towards him; Good sparks and lustrous,a word, good metals. —You Knowing him, is enough. On his bed of death shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one captain Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one, Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on Which, as the dearest issue of his practice, his sinister cheek;it was this very sword entrenched it: And of his old experience the only darling, say to him, 1, live; and observe his reports for me! He bade me store up, as a triple eye, 2 Lord. We shall, noble captain.

Safer than mive own two, more dear; I have so: Par. Mars dote on you for his novices! [ Exeunt And, hearing your high majesty is touch'd Lords.] --What will you do ?

With that malignant cause, wherein the hononr Ber. Stay; the king

(Seeing him rise. Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power, Par. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble I come to tender it and my appliance, lords; you have restrained yourself within the list of With all bound humbleness. too cold an adieu:be more expressive to them;for they King. We thank you, maiden ; wear themselves in the cap of the time, there,do muster But may not be so credulous of cure,true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of When our most learned doctors leave us, and the most received star; and though the devil lead the The.congregated college have concluded, measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take That labouring art can never ransom nature a more dilated farewell!

From her unaidable estate,– Isay, we must not Ber. And I will do so.

So stain our judgement, or corrupt our hope,
Par. Worthy fellows, and like to prove most sinewy To prostitute our past-cure malady
sword-men. [Exeunt Bertram and Parolles. To empiries; or to dissever so
Enter LAFEU.

Our great self and our credit, to esteem
Laf. Pardon, my lord, ( Kneeling.}for me and for my A senseless help, when help past sense we deem.
King. I'll fee thee to stand up.

tidings! Hel. My duty then shall pay me for my pains : Laf. Then here's a man

I will no more enforce mine office on you; Stauds, that has brought his pardon. I would, you Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts Had kneelid, my lord, to ask me mercy; and A modest one, to bear me back again. That, at my bidding, you could so stand up. King. I cannot give thee less, to be call’d grateful: King. I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give, And ask'd theemercy for’t.

As one near death to those that wish him live: Luf. Good faith, across :

But, what at full I know, thou know'st no part; But, my good lord, 'tis thus : will you be cur'd I knowing all my peril, thou no art. of your infirmity?

Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try, King. No.

Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy: Laf: 0, will you eat

He that of greatest works is finisher, No grapes, my royal fox ? yes, but you will, Oft does them by the weakest minister:

So holy writ in babes hath jndgement shown,

From whence thou cam'st, how terided on, – but rest Whenjudges have been babes. Great floods have flown Unquestion’d welcome, and undoubted blest. From simple sources; and great seas have dried, Give me some help here, ho! - If thou proceed When miracles have by the greatest been denied. As high as word, my deed shall match tlıy deed. Oft expectation fails, and most of there

(Flourish. Exeunt. Where most it promises ; and oft it hits, Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits.

SCENE II. Rousillon. A room in the Countess's King.I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid !

palace. Thy pains, not us’d, must by thyself be paid :

Enter Countess and Cloun. Proffers, not took, reap thanks for their reward. Count. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height Hel. Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd :

of your breeding. It is not so with him, that all things knows,

Clo. I will show myself highly fed, and lowly taught: As’tis with us, that square our guess by shows; I know my business is but to the court. But most it is presumption in us, when

Count. To the court! why, what place make you The help of heaven we count the act af men, special, when you put off that with such contempt? Dear sir, to my endeavonrs give consent!

But to the court ! Of heaven, not me, make an experiment !

Clo. Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manI am not an impostor, that proclaim

ners, he may easily put it off at court: he, that cannot Myself agains? the level of mine aim;

make a leg, putofl's cap,kiss his hand, and say nothing, But know I think, and think I know most sure, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and, indeed, such My art is not past power, nor you past cure.

a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the court: but, King. Art thou so confident? Within what space for me, I have an answer will serve allmen. Hop'st thou my cure?

Count. Marry, that's a bountiful answer, that fits all Hel. The greatest gracelending grace,

questions. Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring

Clo. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks; Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring;

the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-butEre twice in murk and occidental damp,

tock, or any buttock. Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp; Count. Will your answer serve fit to all questions? Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass

Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass; as your French crown for your taflata punk, as Tib's What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, rush for Tom's fore-finger, as as pan-cake for ShroveHealth shall live free, and sickness freely die. Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his hole, King. Upon thy certainty and confidence,

the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding quean to a What dar'st thou venture?

wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the friar's mouth; Hel. Tax of impudence,

nay, as the pudding to his skio. A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame,

Count. Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for Traduc'd by odious ballads; my maiden's name all questions? Sear'd otherwise; no worse of worst extended, Clo. From below your duke, to beneath your conWith vilest torture let my life be ended.

stable, it will fit any question. King. Methinks, in thee some blessed spirit doth Count. It must be an answer of most monstrous size, speak:

that must fit all demands. His powerful sound, within an organ weak:

Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned And what impossibility would slay

should speak truth of it: here itis, and all that belongs In common sense, sense saves another way.

to't. Ask me, if I am a courtier; it shall do you no Thy lifeis dear; for all, that life can rate

harm to learn. Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate;

Count. To be young again, if we could: I will be a Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. That happiness and prime can happy call :

I pray you, sir, are you a courtier ? Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate

Clo. O Lord, sir, -There's a simple putting off: Skill infinite, or monstrous desperate.

more, more, a hundred of them. Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try ;

Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours,that loves you. That ministers thine own death, if I die.

Clo. O Lord, sir, — thick, thick, spare not me. Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property

Count. I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, And well deserv'd! Not helping, death's my fee; Clo. O Lord, sir, - nay, pnt me to't, I warrant you. But, if I help, what do yon promise me?

Count. You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. King. Make thy demand !

Clo. O Lord, sir, – spare not me! Hel. But will you make it even ?

Count. Do you cry, O Lord, sir, at your wlipping, King. Ay, by my sceptre, and my hopes of heaven. and spare not me ? Indeed, your 0 Lord, sir, is very

Hel. Then thou shalt give me, with thy kingly hand, sequent to your whipping; you would auswer very well
What husband in thy power I will command. to a whipping, if you were but bound to’t.
Exempted be from me the arrogance,

Clo. I ne'er had worse luck in my life, in my-0 Lord. To choose from forth the royal blood of France, sir : I see, things may serve long, but not serve ever. My low and humble name to propagate

Count. I play the noble housewife with the time, to With any branch or image of thy state:

entertain it so merrily with a fool. But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know

Clo. O Lord, sir, — why, there't serves well again. Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.

Count. An end, sir, to your business: give Helen this, King. Here is my hand; the premises observ'd, Aud urge her to a present answer back: Thy will by my performance shail be serv'd.

Commend me to my kinsmen, and my son ; So make the choice of thy own time! for ]

This is not much. Thy resolv'd patient, on thee still rely.

Clo. Not much commendation to them., More should I question thee, and more I must; Count. Not much employment for you: You underThough, more to know, could not be more to trust; stand me?

meat.

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