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familiar things, supernatural and causeless. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; ensconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear,
Par. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder, that hath shot out in our latter times.
Ber. And so 'tis.
say. Laf. That gave him out incurable, — Par. Why, there 'tis; so say I too. Laf. Not to be help’d, Par. Right; as 'twere, a man assur'd of anLaf. Uncertain life, and sure death. Par. Just, you say well; so would I have said.
Laf. I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.
Par. It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you shall read it in, ----What do you call there?
Laf. A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
Par. That's it I would have said; the very same.
Laf. Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me I speak in respect-
Par. Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he is of a most facinorous spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the
Laf. Very hand of heaven.
Par. Ay, so I say.
Par. And debile minister, great power, great, transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made, than alone the recovery of the king, as to be
Laf. Generally thankful.
Enter King, Helena, and Attendants. Par. I would have said it; you say well: Here comes the king
Laf. Lustick, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: Why, he's able to lead her a coranto.
Par. Mort du Vinaigre! Is not this Helen?
[Erit an Attendant.
Enter several Lords.
Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel
Hel. To each of you one fair and virtuous mis
tress Fall, when love please !--marry, to each, but one!
Laf. I'd give bay Curtal, and his furniture, My mouth no more were broken than these boys', And writ as little beard.
Peruse them well: Not one of those, but had a noble father.
Hel. Gentlemen, Heaven hath, through me, restor’d the king to
health. All. We understand it, and thank heaven for
you. Hel. I am a simple maid; and therein wealthiest, That, I protest, I simply am a maid:-Please it
your majesty, I have done already: The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, We blush, that thou should'st choose; but, be refus'd, Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; We'll ne'er come there again. King.
Make choice; and, see, Who shuns thy love, shuns all his love in me.
Hel. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly; And to imperial Love, that god most high, Do my sighs stream.—Sir, will you hear
| Lord. And grant it. Hel.
Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw ames-ace for
life. Hel. The honour, sir, that flames in
fair eyes, Before I speak, too threat’ningly replies:
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
2 Lord. No better, if you please.
My wish receive, Which great love grant! and so I take my leave.
Laf. Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, I'd have them whipp’d; or I would send them to the Turk, to make eunuchs of. Hel. Be not afraid (To a Lord.] that I your hand
should take; I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: Blessing upon your vows! and in your
bed Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
Laf. These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: sure, they are bastards to the English; the French ne'er got them.
Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good, To make yourself a son out of my
blood. 4 Lord. Fair one, I think not so.
Laf. There's one grape yet,- I am sure, thy father drank wine.-But if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already. Hel. I dare not say, I take you; [To Bertram.]
but I give Me, and my service, ever whilst I live, Into your guiding power. This is the man. King: Why then, young Bertram, take her, she's
thy wife. Ber. My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your
highness, In such a business give me leave to use The help of mine own eyes.
Know'st thou not, Bertram, What she has done for me? Ber.
Yes, my good lord; But never hope to know why I should marry her. King. Thou know'st, she has rais’d me from my
sickly bed. Ber. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down Must answer for your raising? I know her well; She had her breeding at my father's charge: A poor physician's daughter my wife!—Disdain Rather corrupt me ever! King. 'Tis only title thou disdain’st in her, the
which I can build up. Strange is it, that our bloods, Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off In differences so mighty: If she be All that is virtuous, (save what thou dislik’st, A poor physician's daughter,) thou dislik'st Of virtue for the name: but do not so: From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, The place is dignified by the doer's deed: Where great additions swell, and virtue none, It is a dropsied honour: good alone Is good, without a name; vileness is so: The property by what it is should go, Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; In these to nature she's immediate heir; And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, Which challenges itself as honour's born, And is not like the sire: Honours best thrive, When rather from our acts we them derive