E'er twice in Murk and Occidental Damp,
Moift Hesperus hath quench'd his fleepy Lamp;
Or four and twenty times the Pilot's Glafs
Hath told the thiovifh Minutes how they pafs,
What is infirm, from your found Parts fhall fly,
Health fhall live free, and Sicknefs freely die.
King. Upon thy Certainty and Confidence,
What dar'ft thou venture?

Hel. Tax of Impudence,

A Strumpet's boldnefs, a divulged Shame
Traduc'd by odious Ballads: My Maiden's Name
Sear'd otherwife, no worfe of worst extended,
With vileft Torture let my Life be ended.

King. Methinks in thee fome bleffed Spirit doth speak
His powerful Sound, within an Organ weak;
And what Impoffibility would flay

In common Senfe, Senfe faves another way.
Thy Life is dear, for all that Life can rate
Worth name of Life, in thee hath eftimate:
Youth, Beauty, Wisdom, Courage, all
That Happiness and Prime can happy call;
Thou this to hazard, needs muft intimate
Skill infinite, or monftrous defperate;
Sweet Practifer, thy Phyfick I will try,
That minifters thine own Death if I die.

Hel. If I break Time, or flinch in Property
Of what I fpoke, unpiticd let me dic,

And well deferv'd: Not helping, Death's my Fee;
But if I help, what do you promise me?

King. Make thy Demand.

Hel. But will you make it even?

King. Ay, by my Scepter, and my hopes of help. 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,
My low and humble Name to propagate
With any Branch or Image of thy State:
But fuch a one thy Vaffal, whom I know
Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.

King. Here is my hand, the Premises observ'd,
Thy Will by my Performance fhall be ferv'd:
So make the choice of thine own time, for I,
Thy refolv'd Patient, on thee ftill rely;
More fhould I queftion thee, and more I muft,
Tho' more to know, could not be more to truft:
From whence thou cam'ft, how tended on, but reft
Unqueftion'd welcome, and undoubted bleft.
Give me fome help here hoa! if thou proceed,
As high as word, my Deed fhall match thy Deed.

[Exeunt. Enter Countess and Clown. Count. Come on, Sir, I fhall now put you to the height of your breeding.

Clown. I will fhew my felf highly fed, and lowly taught; I know my Business is but to the Court.

Count. 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, kifs his Hand, and fay nothing, has neither Leg, Hands, Lip, nor Cap; and indeed fuch a Fellow, to lay precifely, were not for the Court; but for me, I have an Anfwer will ferve all Men.

Count. Marry that's a bountiful Anfwer that fits all Queftions.

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 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 Rush for Tom's Fore-finger, as a Pancake for Shrove:uesday, 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 fay, an Anfwer of fuch fitnefs for all Questions?

Clo.

Clo. From below your Duke, to beneath your Conftable, it will fit any Question.

Count. It must be an answer of most monstrous size, that muft 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.

Count. To be young again, if we could I will be a Fool in queftion, hoping to be the wifer by your answer. 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.

Count. I think, Sir, you can eat none of this homely Meat.

Clo. O Lord, Sirnay put me to't, I warrant you.
Count. You were lately whip'd, Sir, as I think.
Clo. O Lord, Sir spare not me.

Count. Do you cry, O Lord, Sir, at your whipping, and fpare 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, and not ferve ever.

Count. I play the noble Hufwife with the time, to entertain it fo merrily with a Fool.

Clo. O Lord, Sir-why there't serves well again. Count. An end, Sir, to your Bufinefs: Give Hellen this, And urge her to a prefent answer back,

Commend me to my Kinfmen, and my Son:
This is not much.

me.

Clo. Not much Commendation to them.

Count. Not much Imployment for you, you understand

Clo. Moft fruitfully, I am there before my Legs.
Count. Hafte thou again.

[Exeunt.

Enter Bertram, Lafeu, and Parolles. Laf. They fay Miracles are paft, and we have our Philofophical Perfon, to make modern and familiar things super

natural

natural and caufelefs. Hence is it, that we make Trifles of Terrors, enfconfing our felves into feeming Knowledge, when we should fubmit our felves to an unknown Fear.

Par. Why 'tis the rareft Argument of wonder, that hath fhot out in our latter times.

Ber. And fo 'tis.

Laf. To be relinquish'd of the Artists.

Par. So I fay, both of Galen and Paracelsus.
Laf. Of all the learned and authentick Fellows.
Par. Right, fo I fay.

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: So 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 the fhewing, you fhall read it in what do you call there.

Laf. A fhewing of a heav'nly Effect in an earthly Actor. Par. That's it, I would have faid the very fame.

Laf. Why your Dolphin is not luftier: For me, I speak in respect

Par. Nay, 'tis ftrange, 'tis very ftrange, that is the brief and the tedious of it, and he's of a most facinerious Spirit, that will not acknowledge it to be the

Laf. Very hand of Heav'n.

Par. Ay, fo I say.

Laf. In a moft weak

Par. And debile Minifter, great Power, great Tranfcen dence, which should indeed give us a further ufe to be made, than only the recov'ry of the King, as to be

Laf. Generally thankful.

Enter King, Helena, and Attendants.

Par. I would have faid it, you faid well: Here comes the King.

.

Laf. Luftick, as the Dutchman fays: 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. Mor du Vinaigre, is not this Hellen?
Laf. Fore God I think fo.

King. Go call before me all the Lords in Court.
Sit, my Preferver, by thy Patient's fide,

And with this healthful Hand, whose banish'd fenfe
Thou haft repeal'd, a fecond 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
Of Noble Batchellors, ftand at my bestowing,
O'er whom both Sovereign Power, and Father's Voice
I have to use; thy frank Election make,

Thou haft power to chufe, and they none to forfake.
Hel. To each of you, one fair and virtuous Mistress
Fall, when Love pleafe: marry, to each, but one.

Laf. I'd give Bay Curtal, and his Furniture,
My Mouth no more were broken than these Boys,
And writ as little Beard.

King. Peruse them well:

Not one of those, but had a noble Father.

[She addreffes her felf to a Lord. Hel. Gentlemen, Heav'n hath, through me, reftor'd the King to Health.

All. We understand it, and thank Heav'n for you.
Hel. I am a fimple Maid, and therein wealthieft,
That I proteft, I fimply am a Maid-

Please it your Majefty, I have done already:
The Blushes in my Cheeks thus whisper me.
We blush that thou should'ft chufe but be refused;
Let the white Death fit on thy Cheeks for ever,
We'll ne'er come there again.

King. Make choice and fee,

Who Thuns thy Love, fhuns all his Love in me.
Hel. Now Dian from thy Altar do I fly,
And to impartial Jove, that God most high
Do my fighs ftream: Sir, will you hear my
I Lord. And grant it.

Hel. Thanks, Sir, all the rest is mute.

Suit?

Laf. I had rather be in this Choice, than throw A Deaux-ace for my Life.

Hel. The Honour, Sir, that flames in your fair Eyes, Before I fpeak, too threatningly replies: