But know I think, and think I know moft fure, Hel. The Greatest Grace lending grace, Hel. Tax of impudence, A ftrumpet's boldness, a divulged fhame King. Methinks, in thee fome bleffed Spirit doth speak Thou this to hazard, needs muft intimate Skill infinite, or monftrous defperate. (13) Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all &c.] This Verfe is too fhort by a Foot; and apparently fome Dillyllable is drop'd out by Mischance. Mr. Warburton concurr'd with me in Conjecture to fupply the Verfe thus: Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all &c. Helena had laid a particular Strefs 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, (fave, What thou diflik' ft, Sweet Sweet Practifer, thy phyfick I will try; And well deferv'd! Not helping, death's my fee; Hel. But will you make it even? King. Ay, by my Scepter, and my hopes of Heav'n. Hel. Then fhalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand, What Husband in thy power I will command. Exempted be from me the arrogance To chufe from forth the royal blood of France King. Here is my hand, the premises obferv'd, (14) King. Make thy Demand. Hel. But will you make it even? King. Ay, by my Scepter and my hopes of help.] but reft [Exeunt. The King could have but a very flight Hope of Help from her, fcarce enough to fwear by: and therefore Helen might fufpect, he meant to equivocate with her. Befides, obferve, 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 Hopes of Heav'n. Dr. Thirlby. VOL. II. Сс SCENE Count. SCENE changes to Roufillon. Enter Countefs, and Clown. COME on, Sir; I fhall now put you to the height of your Breeding. Clown, I will fhew my felf highly fed, and lowly taught, I know, my bufinefs is but to the Court. Count. But to the Court? why, what place make you fpecial, when you put off that with fuch contempt? but to the Court! Clo. Truly, Madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he may eafily put it off at Court: he that cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kifs his hand, and fay nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and, indeed, fuch a fellow, to fay precifely, were not for the Court: but for me, I have an answer will ferve all men. 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 ferve 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, ās Tib's rush 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 queàn 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 fay, an answer of such fitness for all questions? Clo. From below your Duke, to beneath your Conftable, it will fit any queftion. Count. It must be an anfwer of most monstrous size, that must fit all demands. Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the Learned fhould fpeak truth of it: here it is, and all that be longs longs to't. Ask me, if I am a Courtier ; do you no harm to learn. Count. To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in a queftion, hoping to be the wifer by your anfwer. I pray you, Sir, are you a Courtier? Clo. O lord, Sir there's a fimple putting off: more, more, a hundred of them. Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves it fhall you. Clo. O lord, Sir-thick, thick, fpare not me. Count. I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. Clo. O lord, Sirnay, put me to't, I warrant you. Count. You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think. 3 Count. Do you cry, O lord, Sir, at your whipping, and spare not me? indeed, your O lord, Sir, is very sequent to your whipping: you would anfwer very well to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. Clo. I ne'er had worfe luck in my life, in my lord, Sir, I fee, things may ferve long, but not ferve ever. Count. I play the noble hufwife with the time, to entertain it fo merrily with a fool. Clo. O lord, Sir why, there't ferves well again. Gount. An end, Sir; to your business: give Helen this, And urge her to a prefent Answer back. Clo. Not much commendation to them? Count. Not much imployment for you, you underftand me. Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before my legs. [Exeunt. SCENE changes to the Court of France. Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles. Laf. (15) THEY fay, miracles are paft; and we have our philofophical perfons to make modern, and familiar, Things fupernatural and caufelefs. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; enfconfing our felves into feeming knowledge, when we fhould fubmit our felves to an unknown fear. Par. Why, 'tis the rareft argument of wonder that hath fhot out in our later times. Ber. And fo 'tis. Laf. To be relinquifh'd of the Artists Par. So I fay, both of Galen and Paracelfus. Par. Right, fo I say. Laf. That gave him out incurable, Par. Why, there 'tis, fo fay I too. Laf. Not to be help'd, Par. Right, as 'twere a man afsur'd of an Par. Juft, you fay well: fo would I have faid. Laf. I may truly fay, it is a novelty to the world. Par. It is, indeed, if you will have it in fhewing, you fhall read it in, what do you call there Laf. A fhewing of a heav'nly effect in an earthly actor. Par. That's it, I would have said the very fame. Laf. (16) Why, your dolphin is not luftier: for me, I speak in respect. Par. (15) They fay Miracles are paft, and we have our Philofophical Perfons to make modern and familiar things fupernatural and caufelefs.] This, as it has hitherto been pointed, is directly oppofite to our Poet's, and his Speaker's, Meaning. As I have stop'd it, the Senfe quadrates with the Context: and, furely, it is one unalterable Property of Philofophy, to make feeming ftrange and preternatural Phenomena familiar, and reducible to Cause and Reafon. (16) Why, your Dolphin is not luftier:] I have thought it very probable, that, as 'tis a French Man speaks, and as 'tis the French King he is fpeaking |