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But know I think, and think I know moft fure,
My Art is not paft power, nor you paft Cure.
King. Art thou fo confident? within what space
Hop't thou my Cure?

Hel. The Greatest Grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horses of the Sun fhall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring;
Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
Moift Hesperus hath quench'd his fleepy lamp;
Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass
Hath told the thievith minutes how they pafs;
What is infirm from your found parts fhall fly,
Health fhall live free, and fickness freely die.
King. Upon thy certainty and confidence,
What dar'it thou venture?

Hel. Tax of impudence,

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A ftrumpet's boldness, a divulged fhame
Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maiden's name
Sear'd otherwife, no worfe of worst extended;
With vileft torture let my life be ended.

King. Methinks, in thee fome bleffed Spirit doth speak
His powerful found, within an organ weak;
And what impoffibility would flay
In common sense, fente faves another way.
Thy life is dear, for all that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate:
(13) Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all
That happiness and prime can happy call;

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,
A poor Phyfician's Daughter ;) theu diflik't
Of Virtue for her name :---


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Sweet Practifer, thy phyfick I will try;
That minifters thine own death, if I die.

Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property
Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
And well deferv'd! Not helping, death's my fee;
But if I help, what do you promise me?
King. (14) Make thy Demand.

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 My low and humble name to propagate With any branch or image of thy ftate: But fuch a one thy vaffal, whom I know Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.

King. Here is my hand, the premises obferv'd, Thy will by my performance fhall be ferv'd: So, make the choice of thine own time; for I, Thy refolv'd Patient, on thee ftill rely. More fhould I queftion thee, and more I muft; (Tho' more to know, could not be more to truft:) From whence thou cam'ft, how tended on, but reft Unqueftion'd welcome, and undoubted bleft. Give me fome help here, hoa! if thou proceed As high as word, my deed fhall match thy deed.


(14) King. Make thy Demand. Hel. But will you


make it even?

King. Ay, by my Scepter and my hopes of help.]

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 ftrictly 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,

C c

Dr. Thirlby.


SCENE changes to Roufillon.

Enter Countefs, and Clown. \

Count. 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, kiss 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 serve all


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 serve 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, as 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 quean 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 fuch fitness for all questions?

Clo. From below your Duke, to beneath your Conftable, it will fit any question.

Count. It must be an answer of most monstrous size, that must fit all demands.

Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the Learned should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that be


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


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


Count. You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think.
Clo. O lord, Sir-fpare not me.


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


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.
Commend me to my kinfmen, and my son :
This is not much.

Clo. Not much commendation to them? Count. Not much imployment for you, you underftand me.

Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before my legs.
Count. Hafte you again.


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SCENE changes to the Court of France.
Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles.

Laf. (15) THEY fay, miracles are past; and we
have our
perfons to make
modern, and familiar, Things fupernatural and cause-
lefs. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; en-
fconfing 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.

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Ber. And fo 'tis.

Laf. To be relinquifh'd of the Artists

Par. So I fay, both of Galen and Paracelfus.

Laf. Of all the learned and authentick Fellows
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 affur'd of an Laf. Uncertain life, and fure death, 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.


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Par. That's it, I would have faid the very fame. Laf. (16) Why, your dolphin is not luftier: for me, I speak in refpect


(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 ftop'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


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