Hel. Ay, my good Lord. Gerard de Narbon was my father, In what he did profefs, well found. King. I knew him. Hel. The rather will I fpare my praife toward him; Knowing him, is enough on's bed of death Many receipts he gave me, chiefly one, Safer than mine. own two: more dear I have fo; With that malignant caufe, wherein the honour King. We thank you, maiden; To empirics; or to diffever fo Our great felf and our credit, to esteem A fenfelefs help, when help paft fenfe we deem. King. I cannot give thee lefs, to be call'd grateful; Hel. What I can do, can do no hurt to try, Since you fet up your reft 'gainft remedy. He He that of greatest works is finisher, Oft does them by the weakest minister: So holy writ in babes hath judgment fhown, When judges have been babes; great floods have flown King. I muft not hear thee; fare thee well, kind But know I think, and think I know most fure, King. Art thou fo confident? within what space Hop'st thou my cure? Hel. The greatest grace lending grace, Hel. Tax of impudence, A ftrumpet's boldnefs, a divulged fhame, King. Methinks, in thee fome bleffed fpirit doth fpeak In common fenfe, fenfe faves another way. Hel. If I break time, or flinch in property Of what I fpoke, unpitied let me die, And well deferv'd! Not helping, death's my fee; King. Make thy demand. Hel. But will you make it even ? King. Ay, by my fceptre, 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; King. Here is my hand, the premiffes obferv'd, More fhould I question thee, and more I must; [Exeunt: SCENE SCENE IV. Changes to Roufillon. Enter Countefs and Clown. Count. Come on, Sir; I fhall now put you to the. height of your breeding. Clo. I will fhew myfelf highly fed, and lowly taught; I know my bufinefs is but to the court. Count. But to the court? why, what place make you fpecial, 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 easily 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 precifely, were not for the court: but for me, I have an anfwer will ferve all men. Count. Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all questions. Clo. It is like a barber's chair, that fits all buttocks; the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn-buttock, or any buttock. Gount. Will your anfwer ferve 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 moris 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 anfwer of fuch fitnefs for all questions? Clo. From below your Duke, to beneath your conftable, it will fit any question. Count. It must be an anfwer of most monftrous fize, that must fit all demands. Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned fnould speak truth of it; here it is, and all that belongs to't. Aik me, if I am a courtier :—— -it fhall do you no harm to learn. Count. To be young again, if we could: I will be a VOL. III. D fool 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 your's, that loves you. Clo. O Lord, Sir, thick, thick, fpare not me. meat. Clo, O Lord, Sir, you. -nay, put me to't, I warrant Count. You were lately whipp'd, Sir, as I think. fpare not me. Count. Do you cry, Lord, Sir, at your whipping, and Spare not me? Indeed, your O Lord, Sir, is very fequent to your whipping, you would answer very well to a whipping, if you were bound to't. Clo. I ne'er had worfe luck in my life, in my O Lord, Sir; I fee, things may ferve long, but not ferve ever, Count. I play the noble hufwife with the time, to entertain it fo merrily with a fool. Cla. O Lord, Sir,why there't ferves again. Count. An end, Sir; to your bufinefs: give Helen this, And urge her to a prefent anfwer back. Commend me to my kinfinen, and my fon: This is not much. Clo. Not much commendation to them? Count, Not much employment for you; you underfland me? Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before my legs. [Exeunt. SCENE V. Changes to the court of France. Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles. Laf. They fay miracles are paft; and we have our philofophical perfons to make modern, and famillar, things fupernatural and caufelefs. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; enfconfing ourselves into * Aidicule on that foolish expletive of fpeech then in vogue at court. feeming |