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Laf. Not to be helped,
Par. Right; as 'twere, a man assured of an-
Laf. Uncertain life, and sure death.
Par. Just, you say well; 80 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 you call there?

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 dolphin is not lustier ; 'fore me I speak in respect

Par. Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he is 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-

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.

Enter King, HELENA, and attendants. Par. I would have said it ; you say well : Here comes the king.

Laf. Lustick, 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?
Laf. 'Fore God, I think so.

VOL. XII.

King. Go, call before me all the lords in court.

[Exit an attendant. Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense Thou hast repeald, a second time receive The confirmation of my promis'd gift, Which but attends thy naming.

Enter several 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 I have to use: thy frank election make; Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.

Hel. To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress Fall, when love please !-marry, to each, but one!

Laf. I'd give bay Curtal, and his furniture,
My mouth no more were broken than these boys,
And writ as little beard.

King. Peruse thein well:
Not one of those, but had a noble father.

Hel. Gentlemen,
Heaven hath, through me, restor’d the king to health.

All. We understand it, and thank heaven for you.

Hel. I am a simple maid; and therein wealthiest, That, I protest, I simply am a maid:-Please it your majesty, I have done already: The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, We blush, that thou should'st choose ; but, be refus'd, Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; We'll ne'er come there again.

King. Make choice; and, see,

cave,

Who shuns thy love, shuns all his love in me.

Hel. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly;
And to imperial Love, that god most high,
Do my sighs stream.-Sir, will you hear my suit?

1 Lord. And grant it.
Hel. Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.

Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw amesace for my life.

Hel. The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, Before I speak, too threateningly replies : Love make your fortunes twenty times above Her, that so wishes, and her humble love!

2 Lord. No better, if you please.

Hel. My wish receive,
Which great love grant! and so I take my leave.

Laf. Do they all deny her? An they were sons of mine, I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the Turk, to make eunuchs of. Hel. Be not afraid [To a lord.] that I your hand

should take;
I'll never do you wrong for your own sake:
Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!

Laf. These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her : sure, they are bastards to the English; the French ne'er got them.

Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good, To make yourself a son out of my blood.

4 Lord. Fair one, I think not so.

Laf. There's one grape yet,- I am sure, thy father drank wine.—But if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have kņown thee already.

Hel. I dare not say, I take you: [To BERTRAM] but

I give Me, and my service, ever whilst I live, Into your guiding power. This is the man. King. Why then, young Bertram, take her, she's thy

wife. Ber. My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your high

ness, In such a business give me leave to use The help of mine own eyes.

King. Know'st thou not, Bertram, What she has done for me?

Ber. Yes, my good lord;
But never hope to know why I should marry her.
King. Thou know'st, she has rais'd me from my

sickly bed.
Ber. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
Must answer for your raising? I know her well;
She had her breeding at my father's charge:
A poor physician's daughter my wife !-Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever!

King. 'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which
I can build up, Strange is it, that our bloods,
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off
In differences so mighty: If she be
All that is virtuous, (save what thou dislik’st,
A poor physician's daughter,) thou dislik'st
Of virtue for the name : but do not so ;
From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by the doer's deed:
Where great additions swell, and virtue none,

It is a dropsied honour:. good alone..."
Is good, without a name; vileness is so :
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair ;
In these to nature she's immediate heir;
And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn,
Which challenges itself as honour's born,
And is not like the sire: Honours best thrive,
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers: the mere word's a slave,
Debauch'd on every tomb; on every grave,
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb,
Where dust, and damn'd oblivion, is the tomb
Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said ?
If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
I can create the rest: virtue, and she,
Is her own dower: honour, and wealth, from me.

Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't.
King. Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou should'st strive

to choose.
Hel. That you are well restor'd, my lord, I am glad;
Let the rest go.

King. My honour's at the stake; which to defeat,
I must produce my power: Here, take her hand,
Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift;
That dost in vile misprision shackle up
My love, and her desert; that canst not dream,
We, poizing us in her defective scale,
Shall weigh thee to the beam: that wilt not know
It is in us to plant thine honour, where
We please to have it grow: Check thy contempt:
Obey our will, which travails in thy good:

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