My friends were poor, but honest; fo's my
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;

love :

Nor would I have him, 'till I do deserve him;
Yet never know how that desert should be.
I know I love in vain, ftrive against hope;
Yet, in this captious and intenible fieve,
I still pour in the waters of my love,

h

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

k

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

Count. Had you not lately an intent, speak truly,
To 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

captious and intenible]-capable of receiving, but not of retaining.

black not to lofe]-ceafe not to love.

k

your Dian]-Diana in your perfon.

cites]-fhews, proves.

For

For general fovereignty; and that he will'd me
In heedfullest reservation to bestow them,
'As notes, whofe faculties inclufive were,
More than they were in note: amongst the reft,
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 absent then.

If

Count. But think you, Helen,

you should tender your fuppofed aid,

He would receive it? He and his physicians

Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him,

They, that they cannot help: How shall they credit

A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,

m

" Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off

The danger to itself?

Hel. There's fomething" hints,

More than my father's fkill, which was the greatest
Of his profeffion, that his good receipt

Shall, for my legacy, be fanctified

By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour But give me leave to try fuccefs, I'd venture

This well loft life of mine on his grace's cure,

By fuch a day, and hour.

Count. Doft thou believe't?

1 As notes, &c.]-receipts, wherein more was contain'd than met the

Embowell'd of their doctrine,]-Having exhaufted their skill.

bints,]-whispers, perfuades me.

for my legacy,]-the credit of it.

Hel. Ay, madam, knowingly.

Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave, and love, Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings

To those of mine in court; I'll stay at home,
And pray God's bleffing' upon thy attempt:
Be gone to-morrow; and be fure of this,
What I can help thee to, thou shalt not mifs.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

The Court of France.

Enter the King, with young lords taking leave for the
Florentine war. Bertram and Parolles.
Flourish cornets.

King. Farewel, young lord; these warlike principles
Do not throw from you :—and you, my lord, farewel :-
Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all,
The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv'd,

And is enough for both.

I Lord. 'Tis our hope, fir,

After well-enter'd foldiers, to return

And find your grace in health.

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

Will not confefs, he owes the malady

That does 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

Pinto.

my heart will not confefs, he owes the malady that does my life befiege.]-will not fubfcribe to the opinion that my disease is mortal; is

whole under it.

(The 'bated, &c.]-Thofe degenerate ftates, that were formed out of the ruins of the Roman empire.

Of

Of the last monarchy) fee, that you come
Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
The bravest questant shrinks, find what you feek,
That fame may cry you loud: I fay, farewel.

2 Lord. Health at your bidding, serve your majesty !
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.

[The King retires to a couch. will stay behind us!

1 Lord. Oh my fweet lord, that you Par. 'Tis not his fault; the fpark2 Lord. Oh, 'tis brave wars!

Par. Most admirable: I have feen those wars.

U

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, steal away bravely.

W

Ber. I fhall ftay here the forehorse to a smock,

Creaking my fhoes on the plain masonry,

'Till honour be bought up, and no fword worn, But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll fteal away. I Lord. There's honour in the theft.

Par. Commit it, count.

2 Lord. I am your acceffary; and fo farewel.

Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd body. 1 Lord. Farewel, captain.

2 Lord. Sweet monfieur Parolles!

queftant]-adventurer.

t

you ferve]-you are foldiers.

"commanded here, and kept a coil with ;]-confined to the court, and made much ado with; and when I urge a wish to engage in the wars, I am told that I am too young, &c.

W

forehorfe to a fmock]-under petticoat government.
a tortur'd body.]-like tearing a limb from the body.

Cc 3

Par.

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 Spinii, one captain Spurio, ' with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his finister cheek; it was this very sword entrench'd it; say to him, I live; and obferve his reports for me.

2 Lord. We fhall, noble captain.

Par. Mars doat on you for his novices! what will you do?

Ber. Stay; the king

Par. Ufe a more fpacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have reftrain'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 do mufter true gait, eat, fpeak, and move under the influence of the most receiv'd star; and though 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 most finewy fword-men.

[Exeunt.

Laf. Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
King. I'll fee thee to stand up.

Laf. Then here's a man

b

Stands, that has brought his pardon. I would, you

Had kneel'd my lord, to ask me mercy; and

That, at my bidding, you could fo ftand up.

y he's cicatriced with.

a

z entrench'd it;]-made that wound.

they wear themselves in the cap of the time, there do mufter true gait,]-are ever in the pink of the mode; they do mafter, &c.—they regulate their whole behaviour by the standard of the most prevailing fashion.

b brought his pardon.]—a fair apology for his intrufion-bought.