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Count.

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

For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me
In heedfullest 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
The king is render'd lost.

Count.

For Paris, was it? speak.

This was your motive

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,
Haply, been absent then.

Count.

If

you

But think you, Helen,

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. There's something hints,

More than my father's skill, which was the greatest Of his profession, that his good receipt

Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified

By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour

But give me leave to try success, I'd venture
The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure,
By such a day, and hour.

Count.

Dost thou believe't?

Hel. Ay, madam, knowingly.

Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave, and love,

Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings
To those of mine in court; I'll stay at home,
And pray God's blessing into thy attempt:
Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this,
What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss.

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I.

PARIS. A ROOM IN THE KING'S PALACE.

Flourish. Enter King, with young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; Bertram, Parolles, and Attendants.

King. Farewel, young lord, these warlike prin

ciples

Do not throw from you:-and you, my lord, farewel:

Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all,

The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv'd,

And is enough for both.

1 Lord.

It is our hope, sir,

After well-enter'd 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. Farewel, young lords;
Whether I live or die, be you the sons
Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy
(Those 'bated, that inherit but the fall
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, farewel.

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,
If they demand: beware of being captives,
Before you serve.

Both.

Our hearts receive your warnings.

King. Farewel.-Come hither to me.

[The King retires to a couch.

1 Lord. O my sweet lord, that you will stay be

hind us!

Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark

2 Lord.

Too

O, 'tis brave wars!

Par. Most admirable: I have seen those wars. Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with;

young, and the next year, and 'tis too early. Par. An thy mind stand to it, boy, steal away bravely.

Ber. I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,

Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn,

But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away. 1 Lord. There's honour in the theft.

Par.

Commit it, count.

2 Lord. I am your accessary; and so farewel. Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.

1 Lord. Farewel, captain.

2 Lord. Sweet monsieur Parolles!

Par. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals:— You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii, one captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it was this very

sword entrench'd it: say to him, I live; and observe his reports for me.

2 Lord. We shall, noble captain.

Par. Mars dote on you for his novices! [Exeunt Lords.] What will you do?

Ber. Stay; the king——

[Seeing him rise.

Par. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have restrain'd yourself within the list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to them; for they wear themselves in the cap of the time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most received star; and though the devil lead the measure, such are to be follow'd: after them, and take a more dilated farewel.

Ber. And I will do so.

Par. Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men.

[Exeunt Bertram and Parolles.

Enter Lafeu.

Laf. Pardon, my lord, [Kneeling.] for me and

for my tidings.

King. I'll fee thee to stand up.

Laf.

Then here's a man

Stands, that has brought his pardon. I would, you

Had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy; and

That, at my bidding, you could so stand up.

King. I would I had; so I had broke thy pate,

And ask'd thee mercy for't.

Laf.

Goodfaith, across:

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