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 shows:
But most it is prefumption in us, when
The help of heav'n we count the act of men.
Dear Sir, to my endeavours give confent,
Of heav'n, not me, make an experiment.
I am not an impoftor, that proclaim

s Myself against the level of mine aim;

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'st thou my cure?

Hel. The greateft grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horses of the fun 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 thievifh minutes how they pass;
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'ft thou venture?

Hel. Tax of impudence,

A ftrumpet's boldness, a divulged fhame "
Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maiden's name

5 Mfelf against the level of mine aim; i. e, pretend to greater things than befits the mediocrity of my condition.

WARBURTON.

I rather think that the means to fay, I am not an impoftor that proclaim one thing and defign another, that preclaim a cure and

Sear'd

Sear'd otherwise, no worse 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;

parently corrupt, and how shall it be rectified? I have no great hope of fuccefs, but fomething must be tried. I read the whole thus,

King. What dareft thou venture?

Hel. Tax of impudence, A ftrumpet's boldness; a divulged fame,

Traduc'd by odious ballads my maiden name;

Sear'd otherwife, to worst of worst extended;

With vileft torture let my life be ended.

When this alteration first came into my mind, I fuppofed Helen to mean thus, First, I venture what is dearest to me, my maiden reputation; but if your diftruft extends my character to the worst of the worst, and fuppofes me feared against the fenfe of infamy, I will add to the ftake of reputation, the stake of life. This certainly is sense,and the language as grammatical as many other Faffages of Shakespeare. Yet we may try another experiment.

Fear other wife to worst of worst extended;

With vileft torture let my life be ended.

That is, let me aft under the greatest terrors poffible.

Yet once again we will try to find the right way by the glimmer of Hanmer's emendation, who reads thus,

my maiden name

And

Sear'd; otherwife the worst of worft extended, &c. Perhaps it were better thus, - my maiden name Sear'd; otherwise the worst to worst extended;

With vileft torture let my life be ended.

Methinks, in thee fome bleffed
Spirit doth Speak
His powerful found, within an

organ weak;] To Speak a found is a barbarifm: For to Speak fignifies to utter an articulate found, i e. a voice. So ShakeSpeare, in Love's Labour Loft, fays with propriety, And when love fpeaks the voice of all the Gods. To Speak a found therefore is improper, tho' to utter a found is not; because the word utter may be applied either to an articulate or inarticulate. Besides, the conftruction is vicious with the two ablatives, in thee, and, within an organ weak. The lines therefore fhould be thus read and pointed,

Methinks, in thee fome bleffed
Spirit doth freak:
His power full Jounds within an
organ weak.

But the Oxford Editor would be
only fo far beholden to this emen-
dation, as to enable him to make
fenfe of the lines another way,
whatever become of the rules of
criticifin or ingenuous dealing.

It

And what impoffibility would flay

In common fenfe, fenfe faves another way.
Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
Worth name of life, in thee hath estimate :
9 Youth, beauty, wifdom, 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 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. Make thy demand.

Hel. But will you make it even?

King. Ay, by my fcepter, and my hopes of heaven. 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 state:

It powerful founds within an or gan weak. WARBURT.

8 in thee hath estimate May be counted among the gifts enjoyed by thee.

9 Youth, Beauty, wifom, courage, all] The verfe wants a foot. VIRTUE, by mifchance, has dropt out of the line.

WARBURTON. -trime] Youth; the fpring or morning of life. 2 King. Make thy Demand. Hel. But will you make it even? King. Ay, by Scepter and my hopes of help.] The King

But

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 Rhime and there is no Shadow of Reason why it fhould be interrupted here. I rather imagine the Poet wrote, Ay, by my Scepter, and my Hopes

of Heaven. THIRLBY. With any branch or IMAGE of thy flate: Shakespeare unquestionably wrote IMPAGE, grafting. IMPE a graff, or flip,

or

But fuch a one thy vaffal, whom I know
Is free for me to afk, 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 question 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.

Count.

[Exeunt.

OME on, Sir; I fhall now put you to the height of your breeding.

Clo. I will fhew myself highly fed, and lowly taught; I know, my bufinefs is but to the court.

Count. But to the court? why, what place make you special, 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 precisely, were not for the court: but for me, I have an answer will ferve all men. Count. Marry, that's a bountiful anfwer that fits all queftions.

Clo. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks;

or fucker by which the means Caxton calls our Prince Arthur, one of the fons of France. So that noble IMPE of fame. WARB.

the

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 rufh for Tom's fore-finger, as a pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a fcolding 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 such 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 fize, that must fit all demands.

Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned fhould fpeak truth of it: here it is, and all that belongs to't. Afk me, if I am a courtier ;-it shall 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 you.

Clo. O Lord, Sir-thick, thick, fpare not me. Count. I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely

meat.

Clo. O Lord, Sir,rant you.

nay, put me to't, I war

Count. You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think.