Stew. Madam, I was very late more near her than I think she wish'd me. Alone she was, and did communicate to herself her own words to her own ears; she thought, I dare vow for her, they touch'd not any stranger sense. Her matter was, she lov'd your son. Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put such [115 difference betwixt their two estates; Love no god, that would not extend his might, only where qualities were level; [Diana no] queen of virgins, that would suffer her poor knight surpris'd, without rescue in the first assault [120 or ransom afterward. This she deliver'd in the most bitter touch of sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in; which I held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns you something to know it.

126

Count. You have discharg'd this honestly; keep it to yourself. Many likelihoods inform'd me of this before, which hung so tottering in the balance that I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, leave me. Stall this in your bosom; and I thank you for your honest care. I will speak with you further anon. [Exit Steward.

Enter HELENA.

133

Hel. Mine honourable mistress. Count. Nay, a mother. 145 Why not a mother? When I said" a mother,' Methought you saw a serpent. What's in "mother,"

That you start at it? I say, I am your mother;
And put you in the catalogue of those

That were enwombed mine. 'Tis often seen 150
Adoption strives with nature, and choice breeds
A native slip to us from foreign seeds.
You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan,
Yet I express to you a mother's care.
God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood 155
To say I am thy mother? What's the matter,
That this distempered messenger of wet,
The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye?
Why? That you are my daughter?
Hel.

That I am not.

Count. I say, I am your mother. Hel. Pardon, madam; The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother. 161 I am from humble, he from honoured name; No note upon my parents, his all noble. My master, my dear lord he is; and I His servant live, and will his vassal die. He must not be my brother.

165

Count.
Nor I your mother?
Hel. You are my mother, madam; would

gross

180

You love my son. Invention is asham'd,
Against the proclamation of thy passion,
To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true;
But tell me then, 't is so; for, look, thy cheeks
Confess it, the one to the other; and thine eyes
See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours
That in their kind they speak it. Only sin
And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
That truth should be suspected. Speak, is 't so?
If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew;
If it be not, forswear 't. Howe'er, I charge

thee,

185

As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, 190
To tell me truly.
Hel.
Good madam, pardon me!
Count. Do you love my son?
Hel.
Count. Love you my son?

Hel.

Your pardon, noble mistress!

Do not you love him, madam? Count. Go not about; my love hath i't a bond,

Whereof the world takes note. Come, come,

empty

Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
That before you, and next unto high heaven,
I love your son.

200

205

My friends were poor, but honest; 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 waters of my love
And lack not to lose still. Thus, Indian-like, 210
Religious in mine error, I adore

215

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 flame of liking
Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian
Was both herself and love, O, then, give pity
To her, whose state is such that cannot
choose

220

But lend and give where she is sure to lose;
That seeks not to find that her search implies,
But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies!
Count. Had you not lately an intent,-speak
truly,
To go to Paris?
Hel.
Count.

Madam, I had.

224

Wherefore? Tell true. Hel. I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear. You know my father left me some prescriptions Of rare and prov'd effects, such as his reading And manifest experience had collected

231

For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me
In heedfull'st 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 235
The King is render'd lost.

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 240
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 they cannot help him,
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.

245

There's something in 't, More than my father's skill, which was the greatest

Of his profession, that his good receipt
Shall for my legacy be sanctified

250

[SCENE I. Paris. The King's palace.] Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, with divers young LORDS taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM and PAROLLES.

King. Farewell, young lords! these warlike principles

Do not throw from you; and you, my lords, farewell!

Share the advice betwixt you. If both gain all, The gift doth stretch itself as 't is receiv'd, And is enough for both.

1. Lord. "T is our hope, sir, s After well ent'red 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

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. 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 20 If they demand. Beware of being captives Before you serve.

Both. Our hearts receive your warnings.
King. Farewell. Come hither to me.
[Exit, attended.]
1. Lord. O my sweet lord, that you will
stay behind us!

Par. T is not his fault, the spark.
2. Lord.
O, 't is brave wars!
Par. Most admirable! I have seen those

Hel. The rather will I spare my praises towards him;

100

116

Knowing him is enough. On 's bed of death
Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one,
Which, as the dearest issue of his practice,
And of his old experience the only darling, 110
He bade me store up, as a triple eye,
Safer than mine own two, more dear. I have so;
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 college have concluded'
That labouring art can never ransom Nature
From her inaidable estate; I say we must not
So stain our judgement or corrupt our hope,
To prostitute our past-cure malady
To empirics, or to dissever so
Our great self and our credit, to esteem
A senseless help when help past sense we deem.

120

125

From simple sources, and great seas have dried When miracles have by the greatest been denied.

145

Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises; and oft it hits
Where hope is coldest and despair most fits.
King. I must not hear thee; fare thee well,
kind maid!

Thy pains not us'd must by thyself be paid. 149
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 't is with us that square our guess by shows;
But most it is presumption in us when
The help of Heaven we count the act of men.
Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
Of Heaven, 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 past power nor you past cure.
King. Art thou so confident? Within what

space

Hop'st thou my cure?

Hel.

156

161

165

The great'st grace lending grace, Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, Ere twice in murk and occidental damp Moist Hesperus hath quench'd her sleepy lamp, Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, Health shall live free and sickness freely die. King. Upon thy certainty and confidence 172 What dar'st thou venture?

Hel. Tax of impudence, A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame, Traduc'd by odious ballads, my maiden's

What husband in thy power I will command; Exempted be from me the arrogance

200

To choose from forth the royal blood of France,
My low and humble name to propagate
With any branch or image of thy state;
But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know
Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.

King. Here is my hand; the premises observ'd,

Thy will by my performance shall be serv'd. So make the choice of thy own time, for I, Thy resolv'd patient, on thee still rely.

More should I question thee, and more! must,

Though more to know could not be more to trust,

-

From whence thou cam'st, how tended on; but

Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest. Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed. [Flourish. Exeunt. [SCENE II. Rousillon. The Count's palace.]

Enter COUNTESS and CLOWN.

Count. Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of your breeding.

Clo. I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught. I know my business is but to the court.

4

Count. 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 a man any manners, he may easily put it off at court. He that cannot make a leg, put off 's cap, kiss his hand and say nothing, has neither leg, [10 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 men. Count. Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all questions.

16

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?

21

Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's rush for Tom's fore

Clo. 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. 39 Count. To be young again, if we could, I will be a fool in 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.

44

Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you.

Clo. O Lord, sir! - Thick, thick, spare not

70

Clo. Not much commendation to them. Count. Not much employment for you. You understand me?

Clo. Most fruitfully; I am there before my legs.

Count. Haste you again. [Exeunt [severally].

[SCENE III. Paris. The King's palace.] Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES. Laf. They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.

Par. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot out in our latter times. Ber. And so 't is.

10

Laf. To be relinquish'd of the artists,Par. So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus. Laf. Of all the learned and authentic fellows,

Par. Right; so I say.

Laf. That gave him out incurable, —
Par. Why, there 't is; so say I too.

Laf. Not to be help'd,

Par. Right; as 't were a man assured of aLaf. Uncertain life, and sure death.

20

Par. Just, you say well; so would I have said. Laf. I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.

Par. It is, indeed; if you will have it in showing, you shall read it in- what do ye call

there?

26

Laf. A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.

Par. That's it; I would have said the very

same.

Laf. Why, your Dauphin is not lustier. 'Fore me, I speak in respect

32

Par. Nay, 't is strange, 't is very strange, that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most facinorous spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the

Laf. Very hand of Heaven.
Par. Ay, so I say.

Laf. In a most weak

38

Par. And debile minister, great power, great transcendence; which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made than alone the recovery of the King, as to be

Laf. Generally thankful.

43

Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. Par. I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the King.

Laf. Lustig, as the Dutchman says. I'll like a maid the better, whilst I have a tooth in my head. Why, he 's able to lead her a coranto. Par. Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen? 50 Laf. 'Fore God, I think so.

King. Go, call before me all the lords in court. Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd

sense

Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive 55
The confirmation of my promis'd gift,
Which but attends thy naming.

Enter three or four LORDS.

Fair maid, send forth thine eye. This youthful parcel

Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice

60