My fear hath catch'd your fondness: Now I see To say, That truth should be suspected: Speak, is't so? Hel. Good madam, pardon me! Count. Do you love Hel. my son? Your pardon, noble mistress! Count. Love you my son? Hel. Do not you love him, madam? Count. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, Whereof the world takes note: come, come, dis close The state of your affection; for your passions Hel. My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: e not offended; for it hurts not him, That he is lov'd of me: I follow him not By any token of presumptuous suit; Nor would I have him, till I do deserve him; (1) The source, the cause of your grief. Yet, in this captious and intenable sieve, And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, Did Wish chastely, and love dearly, that your Dian Hel. Madam, I had. Count. To cure the desperate languishes, whereof For Paris, was it? speak. This was your motive Hel. My lord your son made me to think of this; (1) i. e. Whose respectable conduct in age proves that you were no less virtuous when young. (2) i. e. Venus. (3) Receipts in which greater virtues were enclosed than appeared. Else Paris, and the medicine, and the king, If Count. you But think you, Helen, should tender your supposed aid, Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, 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 honour 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 (1) Exhausted of their skill. ACT II. SCENE I-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, 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 Will not confess he owes the malady That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; The bravest questant2 shrinks, find what you seek, 2 Lord. Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! King. Those girls of Italy, take heed of them; They say, our French lack language to deny, If they demand: beware of being captives, Before you serve.3 Both. Our hearts receive your warnings. (1) i. e. Those excepted who possess modern Italy, the remains of the Roman empire. (2) Seeker, inquirer. (3) Be not captives before you are soldiers. King. Farewell.-Come hither to me. [The King retires to a couch. 1 Lord. O my sweet lord, that you will stay be hind us. Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark2 Lord. Ò, 'tis brave wars! Par. Most admirable: I have seen those wars. Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coill with; Too young, and the next year, and 'tis too early. Par. An thy mind stand to it, boy, steal away bravely. Ber. I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn, But one to dance with !2 By heaven, I'll steal away. 1 Lord. There's honour in the theft. Par. Commit it, count. 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! [Exeunt Lords.] What will you do? Ber. Stay; the king [Seeing him rise. 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; (1) With a noise, bustle. (2) In Shakspeare's time it was usual for gentleen to dance with swords on. |