Against the proclamation of thy paffion,

To fay, thou doft not; therefore tell me true:
But tell me then, 'tis fo. For, look, thy checks
Confefs it one to th'other; and thine eyes
See it fo grofly shown in thy behaviour,
That in their kind they fpeak it: only fin
And hellish obftinacy tie thy tongue,

That truth fhould be fufpected; speak, is't fo?
If it be not, you've wound a goodly clew:
If it be fo, forfwear't; howe'er, I charge thee,
As heav'n fhall work in me for thine avail,
To tell me truly.

Hel. Good'Madam, pardon me.
Count. Do you love my fon?
Hel. Your pardon, noble mistress.
Count. Love you my fon?

Hel. Do not you love him, Madam?

Count. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose

The ftate of your affection; for your paffions

Have to the full appeach'd.

Hel. Then, I confefs,

Here on my knee, before high heav'ns and you,
That before you, and next unto high heav'n,
I love your fon:

My friends were poor, but honeft; fo's my love;
Be not offended; for it hurts not him,

That he is lov'd of me; I follow him not

By any token of prefumptuous fuit;

Nor would I have him, 'till I do deferve him;
Yet never know, how that defert shall be.
I know, I love in vain'; ftrive against hope;
Yet, in this captious and intenible fieve,
I ftill pour in the waters of my love,
And lack not to lofe ftill; thus, Indian-like,
Religious in mine error, I adore

The fun that looks upon his worshipper,

But knows of him no more. My deareft Madam,

Let

Let not your hate incounter with my love,
For loving where you do ; but if yourself,
Whofe aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
Did ever in so true a flame of liking

Wish chaftly, and love dearly, that your Dian
Was both herself and love; O then, give pity
To her, whofe ftate is fuch, that cannot chufe
But lend, and give, where the is fure to lofe;
That feeks not to find that, which fearch implies;
But, riddle-like, lives fweetly, where he dies.

Count. Had you not lately an intent, speak truly, Το go to Paris?

Hel. Madam, I had.

Count. Wherefore? tell true.

Hel. I will tell truth; by Grace itself, I fwear.
You know, my father left me fome prescriptions
Of rare and prov'd effects; fuch as his reading
And manifeft experience had collected

For general fov'reignty; and that he will'd me,
In heedfull'ft reservation to bestow them,
As notes, whofe faculties inclusive were,
More than they were in note: amongst the rest,
There is a remedy, approv'd, fet down,
To cure the defperate languishings, whereof
The King is render'd loft.

Count. This was your motive for Paris, was it, fpeak?

Hel. My lord your fon made me to think of this; Elfe Paris, and the medicine, and the King, Had from the converfation of my thoughts, Haply been abfent then.

Count. But think you, Helen,

If you should tender your* fuppofed aid,
He would receive it? he and his phyficians

Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him:
They, that they cannot help. How fhall they credit
A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,

- fuppofed aid,] fuppofed for propping, fupporting.

Em

Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off
The danger to itself?

Hel. There's fomething hints

More than my father's skill, (which was the great'ft Of his profeffion,) that his good receipt.

Shall for my legacy be fanctified

By th' luckieft ftars in heav'n; and, would your honour
But give me leave to try fuccefs, I'd venture

The well-loft life of mine on his Grace's Cure,
By fuch a day and hour.

Count. Doft thou believ't?

Hel. Ay, Mádam, knowingly.

Count. Why, Helen, thou fhalt have my leave and love;

Means and attendants; and my loving greetings.
To thofe of mine in Court. I'll ftay at home,
And pray God's bleffing into thy attempt:
Begone, to-morrow; and be fure of this,
What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss.

[Exeunt.

ACT II. SCENE I..

The Court of FRANCE.

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

FARE

Flourish Cornets.

KING.

AREWEL, young Lords: these warlike prin-
ciples

Do not throw from you: you, my Lords, farewel;
Share the advice betwixt you. If both gain,
The gift doth ftretch itself as 'tis receiv'd,
And is enough for both.

I Lord.

After well-enter'd foldiers, to return

1 Lord. 'Tis our hope, Sir,

And find your Grace in health.

King. No, no, it cannot be; and yet my

Will not confefs, it owns the malady

heart

That doth my life befiege; farewel, young Lords ;
Whether I live or die, be you the fons
Of worthy Frenchmen; let higher Italy
(Thofe 'bated, that inherit but the Fall
Of the laft Monarchy;) fee, that you come
Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
The braveft Queftant fhrinks, find what you feek,
That Fame may cry you loud: I fay, farewel.

2 Lord. Health at your bidding ferve your Majefty! King. Those girls of Italy, -take heed of them; They fay, our French lack language to deny, If they demand: beware of being captives, Before you ferve.

Both. Our hearts receive your warnings.

King. Farewel. Come hither to me. [To Attendants.

[Exit.

1 Lord. Oh, my fweet Lord, that you will ftay

behind us!

Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark————

2 Lord. Oh, 'tis brave wars.

Par. Moft admirable; I have seen those wars. Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil with, Too young, and the next year, and 'tis too early.

Par. An thy mind ftand to it, boy, fteal away bravely.

Ber. Shall I ftay here the forehorse to a smock, Creeking my hoes on the plain masonry,

'Till honour be bought up, and no fword worn But one to dance with? by heav'n I'll fteal away. I Lord. There's honour in the theft.

Par. Commit it, Count.

2 Lord. I am your acceffary, and so farewel. Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd body.

1 Lord.

1 Lord. Farewel, Captain.

2 Lord. Sweet Monfieur Parolles!

Par. Noble heroes, my fword and yours are kin; good sparks and luftrous. A word, good metals. You fhall find in the regiment of the Spini, one captain Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his finifter cheek; it was this very fword entrench'd it; fay to him, I live, and observe his reports of me.

2 Lord. We fhall, noble captain.

[ye do? Par. Mars doat on you for his novices! what will Ber. Stay; the King

[Exeunt Lords.

Par. Ufe a more fpacious ceremony to the noble Lords, you have restrain'd yourself within the lift of too cold an adieu; be more expreffive to them, for they wear themselves in the cap of the time, there, to mufter true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the moft receiv'd ftar; and tho' the devil lead the measure, such are to be follow'd: after them, and take a more dilated farewel.

Ber. And I will do fo.

Par. Worthy fellows, and like to prove moft finewy fword-men.

Laf. PAR D

ARDON, my Lord, for me and for
tidings.

King. I'll fee thee to ftand up.

my

Laf. Then here's a man ftands, that hath bought

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; fo I had broke thy pate, And afk'd thee mercy for't.

Laf. Goodfaith, across:

'tis thus ;

-but, my good Lord,

Laf.

Will you be cur'd of your infirmity ?

King. No.