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Could reach them: I have seen a medecine
That's able to breathe life into a stone,
Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary
With fprightly fire and motion; whose simple touch
Is powerful to raise king Pepin, nay,
To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand
To write a love-line to her.
King. What her is this?
Laf. Why, doctor fhe: my lord, there's one arriv'd,
you will fee her now, by my faith and honour,
If seriously I may convey my thoughts
In this my light deliverance, I have spoke
With one, that, in her fex, her years, profeffion,
Wisdom, and conftancy, hath amaz'd me more
Than I dare blame my weakness: will you fee her,
For that is her demand, and know her bufinefs?
That done, laugh well at me.
King. Now, good Lafeu,
Bring in the admiration, that we with thee
May spend our wonder too, or take off thine,
By wond'ring how thou took'ft it.
Laf. Nay, I'll fit you,
And not be all day neither.
King. Thus he his special nothings ever prologues.
Laf. [returns.] Nay, come your ways. [bringing in Helena.
King. This hafte hath wings indeed.
Laf. Nay, come your ways;
This is his majesty, fay your mind to him :
A traitor you do look like; but fuch traitors
His majesty seldom fears: I'm Creffid's uncle
That dare leave two together; fare you well.
a Medecine is here put for a fhe-physician.
King. Now, fair one, does your business follow us?
Hel. Ay, my good lord. Gerard de Narbon was
My father, in what he did profess, well found.
King. I knew him.
Hel. The rather will I fpare my praises tow'rds him;
Knowing him, is enough. On his bed of death
Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one,
Which, as the dearest iffue of his practice,
And of his old experience th' only darling,
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 ftands chief in power,
I come to tender it, and my appliance,
With all bound humbleness.
King. We thank you, maiden;
But may not be fo credulous of cure,
When our moft learned doctors leave us, and
The congregated college have concluded,
That labouring art can never ransom nature
From her unaidable eftate: we must not
So ftain our judgment, or corrupt our hope,
To prostitute our paft-cure malady
To empiricks, or to diffever fo
Our great felf and our credit, to esteem
A fenfeless help, when help past sense we deem.
Hel. My duty then fhall pay me for my pains;
I will no more enforce my office on you,
Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
A modeft one to bear me back again.
King. I cannot give thee lefs, to be call'd grateful;
Thou thought'ft to help me, and fuch thanks I give,
As one near death to those that wish him live:
But, what at full I know, thou know'ft no part,
I knowing all my peril, thou no art.
Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try,
Since you fet up your reft 'gainst remedy:
He that of greateft works is finisher,
Oft does them by the weakest minister :
So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown,
When judges have been babes; great floods have flown
From fimple fources; and great ftreams have dry'd,
When miracles have by th' greatest been deny'd.
Oft expectation fails, and moft oft there
Where most it promises: and oft it hits
Where hope is coldeft, and despair most fits.
King. I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid;
Thy pains, not us'd, must by thyself be pay'd:
Proffers, not took, reap thanks for their reward.
Hel. Infpired merit fo by breath is barr'd:
It is not fo with him that all things knows,
As 'tis with us that square our guess by fhows:
But most it is prefumption in us, when
The help of heav'n we count the act of men.
Dear fir, to my endeavours give consent,
Of heav'n, not me, make an experiment:
I am not an impoftor that proclaim
Myself against the level of mine aim;
But know I think, and think I know most fure,
My art is not past power, nor you past cure.
King. Art thou fo confident? within what space
Hop'st thou my cure?
Hel. The greatest lending grace,
Ere twice the horses of the sun shall 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 thievifh minutes how they pass;
King. Methinks, in thee fome bleffed fpirit doth speak,
It powerful founds within an organ weak;
And what impoffibility would flay
In common sense, fense faves another way.
Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate;
Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all
That happiness and prime can happy call:
Thou this to hazard, needs must intimate
Skill infinite, or monftrous defperate.
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 fpoke, unpitied let me die;
And well deferv'd: not helping, death's my
But, if I help, what do you promise me?
King. Make thy demand.
Hel. But will you make it even?
King. Ay, by my fceptre, and my hopes of heaven.
Hel. Then fhalt thou give me, with thy kingly hand,
What hufband in thy power I will command.
Exempted be from me the arrogance
To choose from forth the royal blood of France;
My low and humble name to propagate
With any branch or image of thy flate:
But fuch a one, thy vaffal; whom I know
Is free for me to afk, thee to bestow.
Y y 2
King. 'Here is my hand; the premises observ’d,
Thy will by my performance shall be serv’d:
So make the choice of thine own time; for I,
Thy refolv'd patient, on thee still rely.
More fhould I question thee, and more I must;
Though more to know could not be more to trust:
From whence thou cam'ft, how tended on, but reft
Unqueftion'd welcome, and undoubted blest.
Give me fome help here, hoa! if thou proceed
As high as word, my deed shall match thy deed.
Enter Countess, and Clown.
YOME on, fir, I fhall now put you to the height of your breeding.
Clo. I will fhow myself highly fed, and lowly taught; I know my business is but to the court.
Count. To the court? why, what place make you special, when you put off that with fuch contempt? but to the court!
Clown. 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, kifs his hand, and fay nothing, has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and, indeed, such a fellow, to fay precisely, were not for the court: but for me, I have an anfwer will ferve 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.
answer ferve fit to all questions?
Count. Will your Clo. As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's rufh for Tom's fore-finger, as a pancake for fhrove-tuesday, a morris for may-day,