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Against the proclamation of thy passion,
Hel. Good'Madam, pardon me.
Count. Go not about; my love hath in't a bond,
Hel. Then, I confess,
you, and next unto high heav'n,
Let not your hate incounter with
Count. Had you not lately an intent, speak truly, To go to Paris?
Hel. Madam, I had.
Hel. I will tell truth; by Grace itself, I swear.
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.
Corint. But think you, Helen, If 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, *----- Jupposed aid,} supposed for propping, supporting.
Embowell'd of their do&rine, have left off
Hel. There's something hints
Count. Dost thou beliey't ?
A C T II.
S CE N E I..
The Court of FRANCE. Enter the King, with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war. Bertram and Parolles.
KING. FARI AREWEL, young Lords: these warlike prin
ciples Do not throw from you: you, my Lords, farewel ; Share the advice betwixt you. If both gain, The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis receiv’d, And is enough for both.
i Lord. 'Tis 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 confefs, it owns the malady That doth my life befiege; farewel, young Lords ; Whether I live or die, be you the fons Of worthy Frenchmen; let higher Italy (Those 'bated, that inherit but the Fall Of the last Monarchy;) fee, that you come Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when The bravest Queftant shrinks, find what you seek, That Fame may cry you loud: I say, farewel.
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
eive your warnings. King. Farewel. Come hither to me. (To Attendants.
(Exit. i Lord. Oh, my sweet Lord, that you will stay
behind us! Par. 'Tis not his fault; the spark2 Lord. Oh, '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. Shall I stay here the forehorse to a smock,
i Lorit. There's lionour in the thest.
Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd body.
1 Lord. Farewel, Captain.
Par. Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin;
[ye do? Par. Mars doat on you for his novices! what will Ber. Stay; the King
Exeunt Lords. Par. Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble Lords, you have restrain’d 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, to mufter true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most receiv'd star; and tho' the devil lead the measure, such are to be follow'd: after them, and take a more dilated farewel.
Ber. And I will do so.
Par. Worthy fellows, and like to prove moft sinewy sword-men.
S CE N E II.
King. I would, I had; so I had broke thy pate,
Laf. PARDON, my Lord, for me and for