as the nail to his hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding 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 answer of most monftrous fize 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 it fhall do you no harm to learn. Count. To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in question, hoping to be the wifer by your answer. I pray you, fir, are you a courtier ? Clo. O lord, fir- there's a fimple putting off: more, more, a hundred of them. friend of yours, that loves you. Count. Sir, I am a poor friend of Clo. O lord, fir- thick, thick, fpare not me. Count. I think, fir, you can eat none of this homely meat. Clo. O lord, fir- fpare not me. Count. Do you cry, o lord, fir, at your whipping, and spare not me? indeed, your o lord, fir, is very fequent to your whipping: you would answer 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, fir; I fee, things may ferve long, and not ferve ever. Count. I play the noble hufwife with the time, to entertain it fo merrily with a fool. Clo. Ó lord, fir-why, there't ferves well again. Count. An end, fir; to your business: give Helen this, Commend me to my kinfmen, and my fon: Clo Clo. Not much commendation to them. Count. Not much employment for you; you understand me. [Exeunt. Laf. T SCENE V. The Court of France. Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles. HEY fay, miracles are paft, and we have our philosophical persons to make modern and familiar, things fupernatural and caufelefs. Hence is it, that we make trifles of terrours, enfconcing ourselves into seeming knowledge, when we should fubmit ourselves to an unknown fear. Par. Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot out in our later times. Ber. And fo 'tis. Laf. To be relinquifh'd of the artists. Par. So I fay, both of Galen and Paracelfus. Laf. Of all the learned and authentick fellows. Par. Right, fo I say. Laf. That gave him out incurable. Par. Why, there 'tis, fo fay I too. Laf. Not to be help'd. Par. Right, as 'twere a man affur'd of an— Laf. Uncertain life; and fure death. Par. Juft, you fay well: fo would I have faid. Laf. I may truly fay, 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 fhowing of a heav'nly effect in an earthly actor. Laf. Why, your dolphin is not luftier: for me, I speak in respect Par. Par. Nay, 'tis ftrange, 'tis very strange, that is the brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a moft facinerious fpirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the Laf. Very hand of heav'n. Par. Ay, fo I fay. Laf. In a moft weak Par. And debile minifter, great power, great tranfcendence, which should, indeed, give us a further use to be made than only the recov'ry of the king, as to be Laf. Generally thankful. SCENE VI. Enter King, Helena, and Attendants. Par. I would have faid it; you faid well: here comes the king. Laf. Lustick, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the better while I have a tooth in my head: why, he's able to lead her a corranto. Par. Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen? Laf. 'Fore god, I think fo. King. Go, call before me all the lords in court. — Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's fide; And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd fenfe Thou haft repeal'd, a second time receive The confirmation of my promis'd gift, Which but attends thy naming. Enter three or four lords. Fair maid, fend forth thine eye; this youthful parcel O'er whom both fov'reign power and father's voice I have to ufe: thy frank election make; Thou haft power to choose, and they none to forfake. Laf. Laf. I'd give bay curtal and his furniture, King. Perufe them well: Not one of thofe but had a noble father. [be addreffes herself to a lord. Hel. Gentlemen, heav'n hath, through me, restor'd The king to health. All. We understand it, and thank heav'n for you. King. Make choice, and, fee, Who fhuns thy love, fhuns all his love in me. Hel. Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, And to imperial love, that god most high, Do my fighs ftream. —Sir, will you hear my fuit? I Lord. And grant it. Hel. Thanks, fir; —all the rest is mute. Laf. I had rather be in this choice, than throw ames-ace for my life. Hel. The honour, fir, that flames in your fair eyes, Before I speak, too threat'ningly replies: Love make your fortunes twenty times above Her that fo wishes, and her humble love! 2 Lord. No better, if you please. Hel. My wifh receive, [to the fecond lord. Which great love grant! and so I take my leave. Laf. Do all they deny her? if they were fons of mine, I'd have them whipp'd, or I would send them to the Turk to make eunuchs of. Hel. Hel. Be not afraid that I your hand should take, I'll never do you wrong for your own fake: [to the third lord. Laf. These boys are boys of ice, they'll none of her: sure, they are baftards to the English; the French ne'er got 'em. 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 fo. [to the fourth. Par. There's one grape yet, I am fure, thy father drunk wine. Laf. But if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen: I have known thee already. Hel. I dare not fay I take you, but I give Me and my service, ever whilft I live, Into your guiding power: this is the man. [to Bertram. King. Why then, young Bertram, take her, fhe's thy wife. Ber. My wife, my liege? I fhall befeech your highness, In fuch a business give me leave to use The help of mine own eyes. King. Know'ft thou not, Bertram, What the hath done for me? Ber. Yes, my good lord, But never hope to know why I fhould marry her. King. Thou know'ft, fhe rais'd me from my fickly bed. Ber. But follows it, my lord, to bring me down Muft answer for your raifing? I know her well: She had her breeding at my father's charge: A poor phyfician's daughter: fhe my wife! King. 'Tis But title thou difdain'ft in her; the which VOL. II. Z z In |