Plays and Poems

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.

Nay, I'll fit you, And not be all day neither. Exit. King. Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.

Thy pains, not us'd, must by thyself be paid:
Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.

Laf. Nay, come your ways.
King.

Hel. Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd. 150
It is not so with him that all things knows,
As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows;
But most it is presumption in us when
The help of heaven we count the act of men.
This haste hath wings indeed. Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent;
Laf. Nay, come your ways.
Of heaven, not me, make an experiment.
This is his majesty, say your mind to him: I am not an impostor that proclaim
A traitor you do look like; but such traitors Myself against the level of mine aim;
His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle, But know I think, and think I know most sure,
That dare leave two together. Fare you well. 100 My art is not past power nor you past cure.
Exit. King. Art thou so confident? Within what
King. Now, fair one, does your business
space
follow us?
Hop'st thou my cure?

160

Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA.

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 to wards him;

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 fits.
King. I must not hear thee: fare thee well,
kind maid.

110

Knowing him is enough. On's 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 bade 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.

Hel.
The great'st grace lending grace,
Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring
Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring,
Ere twice in murk and occidental damp
Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp,
Or four-and-twenty times the pilot's glass
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. 170
King. Upon thy certainty and confidence
What dar'st thou venture?

Hel.

Tax of impudence, A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame, Traduc'd by odious ballads: my maiden's name Sear'd otherwise; nay worse, if worse, extended With vilest torture let my life be ended.

King. Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak

maiden ;

King.
We thank you,
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 120
From her inaidable estate; I say we must not
So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope,
To prostitute our past-cure malady
To empirics, 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.

130

King. I cannot give thee less, to be call'd
grateful.
Thou thought'st to help me, and such thanks I
give

But, if I help, what do you promise me?
King. Make thy demand.

Hel.
But will you make it even?
King. Ay, by my sceptre, and my hopes of
heaven.

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. Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly
hand

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, 140

His powerful sound within an organ weak;
And what impossibility would slay

In common sense, sense saves another way. 180
Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate
Worth name of life in thee hath estimate;
Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all
That happiness and prime can happy call:
Thou this to hazard needs must intimate
Skill infinite or monstrous desperate.
Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try,
That ministers thine own death if I die.

190

Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property
Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die,
And well deserv'd. Not helping, death's my
fee;

What husband in thy power I will command:
Exempted 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; 200

Clo. O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to 't, I warrant you.

Clo. From below your duke to beneath your constable, it will fit any question.

Count. It must be an answer of most monstrous size that must fit all demands.

Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned should speak truth of it. Here it is, and all that belongs to 't ask me if I am a courtier ; it shall do you no harm to learn.

39 Count. To be young again, if we could. I will be a fool in question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I pray you, sir, are you a courtier ?

Clo. O Lord, sir! there's a simple 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, spare not me. Count. I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat.

Count. You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. Clo. O Lord, sir! Spare not me.

Count. Do you cry, O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and 'spare not me'? Indeed your O Lord, sir!' is very sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well to a whipping, if you were but bound to 't.

Clo. I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my O Lord, sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever.

Count. I play the noble housewife with the time,

To entertain it so merrily with a fool.

Clo. O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again.

Count. An end, sir: to your business. Give
Helen this,

And urge her to a present answer back :
Commend me to my kinsmen and my son.
This is not much.

Clo. Not much commendation to them. Count. Not much employment for you: you understand me?

Count. Will your answer serve fit to all fear. questions?

Clo. Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs. Count. Haste you again. Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.-Paris. A Room in the KING'S Palace.

Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES.

Laf. They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons, to make modern and 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

Par. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot out in our latter times. Ber. And so 'tis.

Par. Right; so I say.

Laf. That gave him out incurable,-
Par. Why, there 'tis; so say I too.
Laf. Not to be helped,-

Par. Right; as 'twere a man assured of a-
Laf. 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 show.
ing, 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's of a most facinorous spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the

Laf. Very hand of heaven.

Laf. Lustig, 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? Laf. 'Fore God, I think so.

King. Go, call before me all the lords in court. Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side: And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd

sense

Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive
The confirmation of my promis'd gift,
Which but attends thy naming.

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 my suit? First 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 my life.

Hel. The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, Before I speak, too threateningly replies: Love make your fortunes twenty times above Her that so wishes, and her humble love! Second Lord. No better, if you please. Hel. My wish receive, 89 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 whipped, or I would send them to the Turk to make eunuchs of.

Hel. Be not afraid 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 'em.

100

Hel. You are too young, too happy, and too good,

To make yourself a son out of my blood.
Fourth Lord. Fair one, I think not so.

In such a business give me leave to use
The help of mine own eyes.

King.
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. 120 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's, 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 thrive
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our foregoers. The mere word's a slave,
Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb
Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb
Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said?
If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
I can create the rest: virtue and she

140

130

Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. Ber. I cannot love her, nor will strive to do 't.

152

Hel. That you are well restor'd, my lord, I'm glad:

King. Thou wrong'st thyself if thou should'stable vent of thy travel; it might pass yet the strive to choose. scarfs and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from_believing thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care not; yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and that thou 'rt scarce worth.

Let the rest go.

King. My honour's at the stake, which to
defeat

I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,
Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift,
That dost in vile misprision shackle up

My love and her desert; that canst not dream,
We, poising us in her defective scale,

160

Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not
know,

It is in us to plant thine honour where
We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt:
Obey our will, which travails in thy good:
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
Which both thy duty owes and our power
claims;

Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
Into the staggers and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and
hate

170

Par. Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,

219

Laf. Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial; which if-Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee well: thy casement I need not open, for I look through thee. Give me thy hand.

Par. My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.

Laf. Ay,with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.

Par. I have not, my lord, deserved it.
Laf. Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and
I will not bate thee a scruple.

Par. Well, I shall be wiser.

Laf. E'en as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in the default, he is a man I know.

240

Par. This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.

Laf. Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel ont of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords and honourable personages than the commission of your birth and virtue gives

311

Par. Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure?
Ber. Go with me to my chamber, and advise me.
I'll send her straight away: to-morrow
I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
Par. Why, these balls bound; there's noise
in it. Tis hard :

A young man married is a man that 's marr'd:
Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go:
The king has done you wrong: but, hush! 'tis
Exeunt.

So.

and to keep them on, have them still. O! my knave, how does my old lady?

Enter PAROLLES.

Par. Bless you, my fortunate lady!

Hel. I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own good fortunes.

Par. You had my prayers to lead them on;

Clo. So that you had her wrinkles, and I her money, I would she did as you say.

Par. Why, I say nothing.

Clo. Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's tongue shakes out his master's undoing. To say nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which is within a very little of nothing.

Par. Away! thou 'rt a knave.

Clo. You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a knave; that is. before me thou'rt a knave: this had been truth, sir.

Par. Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee.

Clo. Did you find me in yourself, sir, or were you taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; and much fool may you find in you, even to the world's pleasure and the increase of laughter.

Par. A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. Madam, my lord will go away to-night ; A very serious business calls on him. The great prerogative and rite of love, Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge,

But puts it off to a compell'd restraint;
Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with
sweets,

Which they distil now in the curbed time,
To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy,
And pleasure drown the brim.

Hel.

What's his will else? 50 Par. That you will take your instant leave o' the king,

SCENE IV. Another Room in the Same.
Enter HELENA and Clown.

Hel. My mother greets me kindly: is she well? Clo. She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be given, she's very well, and wants nothing i' the world; but yet she is not well.

And make this haste as your own good proceeding,

Strengthen'd with what apology you think
May make it probable need.

Hel.
What more commands he?
Par. That, having this obtain'd, you presently
Attend his further pleasure.

Hel. In every thing I wait upon his will.
Par. I shall report it so.
Hel.

I pray you. Come, sirrah. Exeunt.

SCENE V.-Another Room in the Same.
Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM.

Laf. But I hope your lordship thinks not him soldier.

Ber. Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. Laf. You have it from his own deliverance. Ber. And by other warranted testimony.

Laf. Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting.

Ber. I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in knowledge and accordingly valiant.

Laf. I have then sinned against his experience and transgressed against his valour; and my state that way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my heart to repent. Here he comes; I pray you, make us friends; I will pursue the amity.

Enter PAROLLES.

Par. To BERTRAM. These things shall be done, sir.

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