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Humbly intreating from your royal thoughts
King. I cannot give thee lefs, to be call'd grateful; Thou thought'ft to help me, and fuch 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,
When judges have been babes; great floods have flown,
King. I muft not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid;
But know I think, and think I know moft fure,
King. Art thou fo confident? within what space
Hel. The greatest grace lending grace,
Hath told the thievifh minutes how they pafs;
Hel. Tax of impudence,
A ftrumpet's boldness, a divulged fhame
King. Methinks, in thee fome bleffed spirit doth speak His powerful found, within an organ weak;
And what impoflibility would flay
In common fenfe, sense saves another way.
And well deferv'd! not helping, death's my fee
(13) Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all &c.] This verfe is too fhort by a foot; and apparently fome diffyllable is drop'd out by mifchance. Mr. Warburton concurr'd with me in conjecture to supply the verfe thus:
Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, virtue, all &c.
Helena had laid a particular ftrefs on her maiden reputation; and the King, afterwards, when he comes to speak of her to Bertram, fays;
If the be
All that is virtuous, (fave, what thou dislik'st,
A poor phyfician's daughter;) thou dislik'
Of virtue for her name:
(14) King. Make thy demand.
Hel. But will you make it even?
King, Ay, by my scepter and my hopes of help.]
Hel. But will you make it even?
King. Ay, by my fcepter, and my hopes of heav'n. 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 premises obferv'd,
More fhould I queftion thee, and more I muft;
SCENE changes to Roufillen.
Enter Countefs, and Clown.
Count. height of your breeding
OME on, Sir; I fhall now put you to the
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 Special, 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 eafily put it off at court: he that
The King could have but a very flight hope of help from her, fcarce enough to fwear by: and therefore Helen might fufpect, he meant to equivocate with her. Befides, obferve, the greatest part of the scene is ftrictly in rhyme: and there is no fhadow of reason why it should be interrupted here. I rather imagine, the poet wrote;
Ay, by my feepter, and my hopes of heav'n.
cannot make a leg, put off's cap, kifs 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 serve all
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,
Count. Will your answer 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 ShroveTuesday, a morris 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 say, an answer of such fitness for all questions?
Clo. From below your Duke, to beneath your conftable, it will fit any queftion.
Count. It must be an answer of moft monftrous fize, that must fit all demands.
Clo. But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned fhould fpeak truth of it: here it is, and all that belongs to't. Afk me, if I am a courtier;-it shall do you no harm to learn.
Count. To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in a question, 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 yours, that loves you.
Clo. O Lord, Sir-thick, thick, fpare not me. Count. I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely
Clo. O Lord, Sir-nay, put me to't, I warrant you. Count. You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think.
Clo. O Lord, Sir-fpare not me.
Count. Do you cry, O Lord, Sir, at your whipping, and spare not me? indeed, your O Lord, Sir, is very fequent to your whipping: you would anfwer very well to a whipping, if you were but 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
Count. I play the noble hufwife with the time, to entertain it fo merrily with a fool.
Clo. O Lord, Sir-why, there't ferves well again. Count. An end, Sir; to your business: give Helen this, And urge her to a present answer back.
Commend me to my kinfmen, and my fon :
Clo. Not much commendation to them?
Count. Not much imployment for you, you under ftand me.
Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before my legs.
SCENE changes to the Court of France.
Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles.
Laf. (15) T
HEY fay, miracles are paft; and we have our philofophical perfons to make modern, and familiar, things fupernatural and caufelefs. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrors; enfconfing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we fhould fubmit ourselves to an unknown fear.
Par. Why, 'tis the rareft argument of wonder that hath fhot out in our later times.
Ber. And fo 'tis.
(15) They fay miracles are paft, and we have our ph fophical perfons to make modern and familiar things supernatural and caufeless.] This, as it has hitherto been pointed, is directly oppofite to our pret's, and his fpeaker's, meaning. As I have flop'd it, the fenfe quadrates with the context: and, furely, it is one unalterable property of philofophy, to make feeming ftrange and preternatural Phænomena familiar, and reducible to cause and reafon.