If it be so, you have wound a goodly clue;
If it be not, forswear’t: howe'er, I charge thee,
As heaven shall work in me for thine avail,
To tell me truly.

Hel. . Good madam, pardon me!
Count. Do you love my son?
Hel.

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, disclose
The state of your affection; for your passions
Have to the full appeach'd.
Hel.

Then, I confess,
Here on my knee, before high heaven and you,
That before you, and next unto high heaven,
I love your son:
My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love:
Be 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 haye him, till I do deserve him;
Yet never know how that desert should be.
I know I love in vain, strive against hope;
Yet, in this captious and intenible sieve,'
I still pour in the waters of my love, .
And lack not to lose still:2 thus, Indian-like,

- captious and intenible sieve,) Dr. Farmer supposes captious to be a contraction of capacious.

Mr. Malone thinks it means recipient, capable of receiving what is put into it; and by intenible, incapable of holding or retaining it.

And lack not to lose still : ] Helena means to say, that, like a person who pours water into a vessel full of holes, and still continues his employment, though he finds the water all lost, and the vessel empty, so, though she finds that the waters of her love are still lost, that her affection is thrown away on an object whom she thinks she never can deserve, she yet is not discouraged, but perseveres in her hopeless endeavour to accomplish her wishes.

VOL. III.

Religious in mine error, I adore
The sun, that looks upon his worshipper,
But knows of hiin no more. My dearest madam,
Let not your hate encounter with my love,
For loving where you do: but, if yourself,
Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,
Did ever, in so true a flame of liking,
Wish chastly, and love dearly, that your Dian
Was both herself and love;* O then, give pity
To her, whose state is such, that cannot choose
But lend and give, where she is sure to lose;
That seeks not to find that her search implies,
But, riddle-like, lives sweetly where she 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 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 willd me
In heedfullest reservation to bestow them,
As notes, whose faculties inclusives were,
More than they were in note: amongst the rest,
There is a remedy, approv'd, set down,
To cure the desperate languishes, whereof

3 [l'hose aged honour cites a virtuous youth,] i. e. whose respectable conduct in age shou's, or proves, that you were no less virtuous when young. 4 Wish chastly, and love dearly, that your Dian

Il'as both herself and love;] i. e. Venus. Helena means to say~" If ever you wished that the deity who presides over chastity, and the queen of amorous rites, were one and the same person; or, in other words, if ever you wished for the honest and lawful completion of your chaste desires."

5 notes, whose faculties inclusive -] Receipts in which greater virtues were enclosed than appeared to observation.

The king is render'd lost.
Count.

This was your motive
For Paris, was it? speak.

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, Haply, been absent then. 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, They, that they cannot help: How shall they credit A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, Embowell’d of their doctrine, have left off The danger to itself ? 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 to leave to try success, I'd venture The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure, By such a day, and hour. Count.

Dost thou believ't ? 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 blessing into thy attempt : Be gone tomorrow; and be sure of this, What I can help thee to, thou shalt not miss.

[Exeunt.

6 Embowelld of their doctrine,] i. e. exhausted of their skill.

АСТ II.

SCENE ), Paris.

A Room in the King's Palace.

n

Flourish. Enter King, with young Lords, taking

leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, PA-
ROLLES, and Attendants.
King. Farewell, young lord, these warlike prin-

ciples Do not throw from you :—and you, my lord, fare

well :- .
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.

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;
Whether I live or die, be you the sons
Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy
(Those 'bated, that inherit but the fall
Of the last monarchy,) see, that you come

7 - and yet my heart, &c.] i. e. in the common phrase, I am still heart-whole; my spirits, by not sinking under my distemper, do not acknowledge its influence.

- let higher Italy
(Those 'bated, that inherit but the fall

Of the last monarchy,) see, &c.] The antient geographers bave divided Italy into the higher and the lower, the Apennine hills being a kind of natural line of partition; the side next the Adriatic was denominated the higher Italy, and the other side the lower; and the two seas followed the same terms of distinction, the Adriatic being called the upper Sea, and the Tyrrhene, or Tuscan, the lower. Now the Sennones, or Senois, with whom

Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when
The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek,
That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell.
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.
Both.

Our hearts receive your warnings. King. Farewell.-Come hither to me.

[The King retires to a couch. i Lord. O my sweet lord, that you will stay be

hind us! Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark 2 Lord.

O, 'tis brave wars! Par. Most admirable: I have seen those wars. Ber. I am commanded here, and kept a coil

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 stand here the forehorse to a

smock, Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, Till honour be bought up, and no sword worn,

the Florentines are here supposed to be at war, inhabited the higher Italy, their chief town being Arminium, now called Ri. mini, upon the Adriatic. HANMER.

Dr. Johnson says, that the sense may be this: Let upper Italy, where you are to exercise your valour, see that you come to gain honour, to the abatement, that is, to the disgrace and depression of those that have now lost their antient military fame, and inherit but the fall of the last mionarchy. To abate is used by Shakspeare in the original sense of abatre, to depress, to sink, to deject, to subdue. 9- beware of being captives,

Before you serve.] The word serve is equivocal; the sense is, Be not captives before you serve in the war.