Can’t no other152
But, I your daughter, he must be my brother?
COUNTESS Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law.
God shield155 you mean it not! Daughter and mother
So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again?
My fear hath catched your fondness.157 Now I see
The mystery of your loveliness158, and find
Your salt tears’ head. Now to all sense ’tis gross159:
You love my son. Invention160 is ashamed
Against161 the proclamation of thy passion
To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true.
But tell me then ’tis so, for look, thy cheeks
Confess it, t’one to th’other, and thine eyes
See it so grossly shown in thy behaviours
That in their kind166 they speak it. Only sin
And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue,
That truth should be suspected.168 Speak, is’t so?
If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew.169
If it be not, forswear’t: howe’er, I charge170 thee,
As heaven shall work in me for thine avail171,
To tell me truly.
HELEN Good madam, pardon me.
COUNTESS Do you love my son?
HELEN Your pardon, noble mistress.
COUNTESS Love you my son?
HELEN Do not you love him, madam?
COUNTESS Go not about; my love hath in’t a bond178
Whereof the world takes note.179 Come, come, disclose
The state of your affection, for your passions
Have to the full appeached.181
HELEN Then I confess,
↑Kneels↑
Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
That before184 you, and next unto high heaven,
I love your son.
My friends186 were poor but honest, so’s my love.
Be not offended, for it hurts not him
That he is loved of me; I follow him not
By any token of presumptuous suit189,
Nor would I have him till I do deserve him,
Yet never know how that desert should be.
I know I love in vain, strive against hope.
Yet in this captious and intenible193 sieve
I still194 pour in the waters of my love
And lack not to lose still195; thus, Indian-like,
Religious196 in mine error, I adore
The sun that looks upon his worshipper
But knows of him no more.198 My dearest madam,
Let not your hate encounter with199 my love,
For loving where you do; but if yourself,
Whose agèd honour cites201 a virtuous youth,
Did ever in so true a flame of liking
Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian
Was both herself204 and love — O, then, give pity
To her whose state is such that cannot choose
But lend and give where she is sure to lose206;
That seeks not to find that her search implies207,
But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies.208
COUNTESS Had you not lately an intent — speak truly —
To go to Paris?
HELEN Madam, I had.
COUNTESS Wherefore?212 Tell true.
HELEN I will tell truth, by grace213 itself I swear.
You know my father left me some prescriptions214
Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading
And manifest216 experience had collected
For general sovereignty217, and that he willed me
In heedfull’st reservation to bestow them218,
As notes whose faculties inclusive219 were
More than they were in note.220 Amongst the rest,
There is a remedy, approved221, set down,
To cure the desp’rate222 languishings whereof
The king is rendered lost.223
COUNTESS This was your motive for Paris, was it? Speak.
HELEN My lord your son made me to think of this;
Else Paris and the medicine and the king
Had from the conversation227 of my thoughts
Haply228 been absent then.
COUNTESS But think you, Helen,
If you should tender230 your supposèd aid,
He would receive it? He and his physicians
Are of a mind.232 He, that they cannot help him,
They, that they cannot help. How shall they credit233
A poor unlearnèd virgin, when the schools234,
Embowelled of their doctrine, have left off235
The danger to itself?
HELEN There’s something in’t
More than my father’s skill, which was the great’st
Of his profession, that his good receipt239
Shall for my legacy be sanctified240
By th’luckiest stars in heaven, and would your honour
But give me leave to try success, I’d venture242
The well-lost243 life of mine on his grace’s cure
By such a244 day and hour.
COUNTESS Dost thou believe’t?
HELEN Ay, madam, knowingly.246
COUNTESS Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave247 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 into250 thy attempt.
Be gone tomorrow. And be sure of this:
What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss.252
Exeunt
running scene 4
Enter the King [carried in a chair] with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war, Count Rossillion [Bertram] and Parolles. Flourish cornets
KING Farewell, young lords. These warlike principles1
Do not throw from you.2 And you, my lords, farewell.
Share the advice betwixt you. If both gain, all
The gift4 doth stretch itself as ’tis received,
And is enough for both.
FIRST LORD ’Tis our hope, sir,
After well-entered7 soldiers, to return
And find your grace in health.
KING No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart
Will not confess he owes10 the malady
That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords.
Whether I live or die, be you the sons
Of worthy Frenchmen. Let higher Italy13 —
Those bated that inherit but the fall14
Of the last monarchy — see that you come
Not to woo honour, but to wed16 it, when
The bravest questant shrinks.17 Find what you seek,
That fame may cry18 you loud. I say, farewell.
SECOND LORD Health at your bidding serve your majesty!
KING Those girls of Italy, take heed of them:
They say our French lack language to deny21
If they demand. Beware of being captives22
Before you serve.23
BOTH Our hearts receive your warnings.
King steps aside with some lords
KING Farewell.— Come hither to me.
To Bertram
FIRST LORD O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
PAROLLES ’Tis not his fault, the spark.27
SECOND LORD O, ’tis brave28 wars!
PAROLLES Most admirable. I have seen those wars.
BERTRAM I am commanded here, and kept a coil30 with
‘Too young’ and ‘the next year’ and ‘’tis too early’.
PAROLLES An thy mind stand to’t, boy, steal away bravely.32
BERTRAM I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock33,
Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry34,
Till honour be bought up35 and no sword worn
But one to dance with. By heaven, I’ll steal36 away.
FIRST LORD There’s honour in the theft.
PAROLLES Commit it, count.
SECOND LORD I am your accessary, and so farewell.
BERTRAM I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.40
FIRST LORD Farewell, captain.
SECOND LORD Sweet Monsieur Parolles!
PAROLLES Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good
sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals.44 You shall find in
the regiment of the Spinii one Captain Spurio45, with his
cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister46 cheek; it was
this very sword entrenched47 it. Say to him I live, and observe
his reports48 for me.
FIRST LORD We shall, noble captain.
PAROLLES Mars dote on you for his novices!50—
[Exeunt Lords]
To Bertram
What will ye do?
Bertram and Parolles stand aside
BERTRAM Stay52 the king.
To Bertram
PAROLLES Use a more spacious ceremony53 to the
noble lords. You have restrained yourself within the list54 of
too cold an adieu. Be more expressive to them, for they wear55
themselves in the cap of the time, there do muster true56
gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most
received star. And though the devil lead the measure58, such
are to be followed. After them, and take a more dilated59
farewell.
BERTRAM And I will do so.
The King comes forward
PAROLLES Worthy fellows, and like62 to prove
most sinewy63 sword-men.
Exeunt [Bertram and Parolles]
Enter Lafew
Kneels
LAFEW Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.64
KING I’ll fee65 thee to stand up.
Rises
LAFEW Then here’s a man stands that has brought his pardon.66
I would you had kneeled, 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 pate69,
And asked thee mercy for’t.
LAFEW Good faith, across.71 But, my good lord, ’tis thus:
Will you be cured of your infirmity?
KING No.
LAFEW O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox?74
Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if75
My royal fox could reach them. I have seen a medicine76
That’s able to breathe life into a stone,
Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary78
With sprightly fire and motion, whose simple79 touch,
Is powerful to araise King Pippin80, nay,
To give great Charlemain a pen81 in’s hand
And write to her a love-line.
KING What ‘her’ is this?
LAFEW Why, Doctor She: my lord, there’s one arrived,
If you will see her. Now, by my faith and honour,
If seriously I may convey my thoughts
In this my light deliverance87, I have spoke
With one that, in her sex, her years, profession88,
Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more
Than I dare blame my weakness.90 Will you see her,
For that is her demand, and know her business?
That done, laugh well at me.
KING Now, good Lafew,
Bring in the admiration94 that we with thee
May spend our wonder too, or take off95 thine
By wondering how thou took’st96 it.
LAFEW Nay, I’ll fit97 you,
And not be all day neither.
Lafew goes to the door or exits and re-enters
KING Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.99
Enter Helen
To Helen
LAFEW Nay, come your ways.100
KING This haste hath wings indeed.
LAFEW Nay, come your ways.
This is his majesty, say your mind to him.
A traitor you do look like, but such traitors
His majesty seldom fears. I am Cressid’s uncle105,
That dare leave two together. Fare you well.
Exit
KING Now, fair one, does your business follow107 us?
HELEN Ay, my good lord.
Gerard de Narbon was my father,
In what he did profess, well found.110
KING I knew him.
HELEN The rather will I spare my praises towards him.
Knowing him is enough. On’s bed of death
Many receipts114 he gave me, chiefly one
Which, as the dearest issue115 of his practice,
And of his old experience th’only116 darling,
He bade me store up, as a triple117 eye,
Safer118 than mine own two. More dear I have so,
And hearing your high majesty is touched
With that malignant cause wherein the honour120
Of my dear father’s gift stands chief in power,
I come to tender it and my appliance122
With all bound123 humbleness.
KING We thank you, maiden,
But may not be so credulous125 of cure,
When our most learnèd doctors leave us, and
The congregated college127 have concluded
That labouring art128 can never ransom nature
From her inaidible129 estate. I say we must not
So stain our judgement, or corrupt our hope,
To prostitute131 our past-cure malady
To empirics, or to dissever132 so
Our great self and our credit, to esteem133
A senseless help when help past sense we deem.134
HELEN My duty then shall pay me for my pains135:
I will no more enforce mine office136 on you,
Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
A modest one to bear me back again.138
KING I cannot give thee less, to139 be called grateful.
Thou thought’st to help me, and such thanks I give
As one near death to those that wish him live.
But what at full I know, thou know’st no part142,
I knowing all my peril, thou no art.143
HELEN What I can do can do no hurt to try,
Since you set up your rest145 gainst remedy.
He146 that of greatest works is finisher
Oft does them by the weakest minister:
So holy writ in babes148 hath judgement shown,
When judges have been babes; great floods have flown149
From simple sources, and great seas have dried150
When miracles have by the great’st151 been denied.
Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises, and oft it hits153
Where hope is coldest and despair most shifts.154
KING I must not hear thee. Fare thee well, kind maid.
Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid156:
Proffers not took reap thanks for157 their reward.
HELEN Inspirèd merit so by breath158 is barred.
It is not so with him that all things knows
As ’tis with us that square our guess by shows.160
But most it is presumption in us when
The help of heaven we count162 the act of men.
Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent.
Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.164
I am not an impostor that proclaim165
Myself against the level of mine aim,
But know I think, and think I know most sure,
My art is not past power, nor you past cure.
KING Art thou so confident? Within what space169
Hop’st thou my cure?
HELEN The greatest171 grace lending grace
Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring173,
Ere twice in murk and occidental174 damp
Moist Hesperus175 hath quenched her sleepy lamp,
Or four and twenty times the pilot’s glass176
Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass,
What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly,
Health shall live free and sickness freely die.
KING Upon thy certainty and confidence
What dar’st thou venture?181
HELEN Tax182 of impudence,
A strumpet’s183 boldness, a divulgèd shame
Traduced184 by odious ballads: my maiden’s name
Seared otherwise, nay, worse of worst, extended185
With vilest torture, let my life be ended.
KING Methinks in thee some blessèd spirit doth speak
His powerful sound within an organ weak:
And what impossibility would slay189
In common sense190, sense saves another way.
Thy life is dear, for all that life can rate191
Worth name of life in thee hath estimate192:
Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
That happiness and prime194 can happy call.
Thou this to hazard needs195 must intimate
Skill infinite or monstrous desperate.196
Sweet practicer, thy physic197 I will try,
That ministers198 thine own death if I die.
HELEN If I break time, or flinch in property199
Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
And well deserved. Not201 helping, death’s my fee.
But if I help, what do you promise me?
KING Make thy demand.
HELEN But will you make it even?204
KING Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven.
HELEN Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand
What207 husband in thy power I will command:
Exempted208 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 state.
But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know
Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.
KING Here is my hand.
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