That before you, and next unto high heaven, I love your son: My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: That he is lov'd of me: I follow him not Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him; The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, Hel. Count. Madam, I had. Wherefore? tell true. Hel. I will tell truth; by grace itself, I swear. You know my father left me some prescriptions Of rare and prov'd effects, such as his reading And manifest experience, had collected For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me In heedfullest reservation to bestow them, As notes, whose faculties inclusive were, More than they were in note: amongst the rest, There is a remedy, approv'd, set down, To cure the desperate languishes, whereof Count. For Paris, was it? speak. This was your motive Hel. My lord your son made me to think of this; Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king, Had, from the conversation of my thoughts, Count. But think you, Helen, If you should tender your supposed aid, He would receive it? He and his physicians Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off Hel. There's something hints, More than my father's skill, which was the greatest Of his profession, that his good receipt Shall, for my legacy, be sanctified By the luckiest stars in heaven: and would your hon our But give me leave to try success, I'd venture Count. Dost thou believe't? Hel. Ay, madam, knowingly. Count. Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave, and love, Means, and attendants, and my loving greetings [Exeunt. Vol. 1. It ACT II. SCENE 1-Paris. A Room in the King's Palace. Flourish. Enter King, with young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; Bertram, Parolles, and Attendants. King. FAREWELL, young lord, these warlike principles Do not throw from you :-and you, my lord, farewell: -Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all, The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv'd, And is enough for both. 1 Lord. It is our hope, sir, After well-enter'd soldiers, to return And find your grace in health. King. No, no, it cannot be ; and yet my heart 'That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; Both. Our hearts receive your warnings. King. Farewell.-Come hither to me. [The King retires to a couch. 1 Lord. Omy sweet lord, that you will stay behind us. Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark 2 Lord. O, 'tis brave wars! Par. Most admirable: I have seen those wars. Too young, and the next year, and 'tis too early. Ber. I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, But one to dance with! by heaven, I'll steal away. Par. Commit it, counts 2 Lord. I am your accessary; and so farewell. Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. 1 Lord. Farewell, captain. 2 Lord. Sweet monsieur Parolles! Par. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals :You shall find in the regiment of the Spinii, one captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his reports for me. 2 Lord. We shall, noble captain. Par. Mars dote on you for his novices! What will you do? [Exeunt Lords. [Seeing him rise. Ber. Stay; the king Par. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to them; for they wear themselves in the cap of the time, there, do muster true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most received star; and though the devil lead the measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. Ber. And I will do so. Par. Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sin[Exeunt Bert. and Parolles. ewy sword-men. Enter Lafeu. Laf. Pardon, my lord, [Kneeling.] for me and for my tidings. King. I'll fee thee to stand up. Then here's a man Laf. 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 so stand up. King. I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, And ask'd thee mercy for❜t. Laf. Good faith, across: But, my good lord, 'tis thus ; will you be cur'd Of your infirmity? King. Laf. No. O, will you eat No grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will, To give great Charlemain a pen in his hand, And write to her a love-line. King. What her is this? Laf. Why, doctor she: My lord, there's one arriv❜d, In this my light deliverance, I have spoke King. Now, good Lafeu, Bring in the admiration; that we with thee May spend our wonder too, or take off thine, |