They say, our French lack language to deny,
If they demand: beware of being captives,

Both.

King.

Our hearts receive your warnings. 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:

But, my good lord, 'tis thus; Will you be cur'd
Of your infirmity?

King.

Laf.

No

No.

O, will you eat

you will,

but yes, grapes, my royal fox? My noble grapes, an if my royal fox

Could reach them: I have seen a medicine,
That's able to breathe life into a stone;
Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary,
With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch
Is powerful to araise king Pepin, nay,

To give great Charlemain a pen in his hand,
And write to her a love-line.

King.

What her is this?

Laf. Why, doctor she: My lord, there's one ar

riv'd,

If you will see 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 sex, her years, profession,
Wisdom, and constancy, hath amaz'd me more
Than I dare blame my weakness: Will you see her,
(For that is her demand,) and know her business?
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'st it.

Laf.

And not be all day neither.

Nay, I'll fit you,

[Exit Lafeu.

King. Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.

Re-enter Lafeu, with Helena.

Laf. Nay, come your ways.

King.

This haste hath wings indeed.

Laf. 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 uncle,
That dare leave two together; fare you well. [Exit.
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 spare my praises towards

him;

Knowing him, is enough. On his bed of death
Many receipts he gave me; chiefly one,
Which, as the dearest issue of his practice,
And of his old experience the only darling,
He bad 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 stands chief in power,
I come to tender it, and my appliance,

With all bound humbleness.

King.

We thank you, maiden; But may not be so credulous of cure,When our most learned doctors leave us; and The congregated college have concluded That labouring art can never ransom nature

From her inaidable estate,-I say we must not
So stain our judginent, or corrupt our hope,
To prostitute our past-cure malady

To empiricks; or to dissever so

Our great self and our credit, to esteem

A senseless help, when help past sense we deem.
Hel. My duty then shall pay me for my pains:
I will no more enforce mine office on you;
Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts
A modest one, to bear me back again.

King. I cannot give thee less, to be call'd 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 part;
I knowing all my peril, thou no art.

Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try,
Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy:
He that of greatest 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 simple sources; and great seas have dried,
When miracles have by the greatest been denied.
Oft expectation fails, and most oft there
Where most it promises; and oft it hits,

Where hope is coldest, and despair most sits.

King. I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind

maid;

Thy pains, not us'd, must by thyself be paid:

Proffers, not took, reap thanks for their reward.