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Hel. I will tell truth; by Grace itself, I swear.
You know, my father left me fome prefcriptions
Of rare and prov'd effects; fuch as his reading
And manifeft experience had collected

For general fov'reignty; and that he will'd me,
In heedfull'ft refervation to beftow them,
As notes, whofe faculties inclufive were,
More than they were in note: amongst the reft,
There is a remedy, approv'd, fet down,

To cure the defperate languishings, whereof
The King is render'd loft.

Count. This was your motive for Paris, was it,
fpeak?

Hel. My lord your fon made me to think of this;
Elfe Paris, and the medicine, and the King,
Had from the converfation of my thoughts,
Haply, been abfent then.

If

Count. But think you, Helen,

you fhould 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 fhall they credit
A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools,
Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off
The danger to itself?

I

Hel. There's fomething hints

More than my father's fkill (which was the great's
Of his Profeffion) that his good receipt

Shall for my legacy be fanctified

9 Notes, whofe faculties in
clufive.] Receipts in which
greater virtues were inclofed than
appeared to obfervation.

There's fomething IN'T
More than my father's fkill

-that his good receipt, &c,
Here is an inference [that] with
out any thing preceding, to

which it refers, which makes the fentence vicious, and fhews that we should read,

There's fomething HINTS More than my father's skill, that his good receipt i.e. I have a fecret premonition or prefage.

WARBURTON.
By

By th' luckieft ftars in heav'n; and, would your ho

nour

But give me leave to try fuccefs, I'd venture
The well-loft life of mine on his Grace's Cure,
By fuch a day and hour.

Count. Doft thou believ't?

Hel. Ay, Madam, knowingly.

Count. Why, Helen, thou fhalt have my leave and love:

Means and attendants; and my loving greetings
To thofe of mine in Court. I'll stay at home,
And pray God's bleffing into thy attempt:
Begone, to-morrow; and be fure of this,
What I can help thee to, thou shalt not mifs.

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

2

The Court of France.

Enter the King, with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war. Bertram and Parolles.

Flourish Cornets.

KING.

Arewel, young Lords. Thefe warlike principles Do not throw from you. You, my Lords, farewel;

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Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain all,
The gift doth ftretch itself as 'tis received,
And is enough for both.

I Lord. 'Tis our hope, Sir,

After well-enter'd foldiers, 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 Frenchmen3; let higher Italy

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Of the laft Monarchy ;) See, &c.} This is obfcure. Italy, at the time of this fcene, was under three very different tenures. The emperor, as fucceffot of the Roman emperors, had one part; the pope, by a pretended donation from Conftantine, another; and the third was compofed of free ftates. Now by the last monarchy is meant the Roman, the Jaft of the four general monarchies. Upon the fall of this monarchy, in the fcramble, feveral cities fet up for themselves, and became free states: now these VOL. III.

Those

might be faid properly to inherit the fall of the monarchy. This being premifed, let us now confider fenfe. The king fays, higher Italy; giving it the

rank of preference to France; but he corrects himself and says, I except thofe from that precedency, who only inherit the fall of the laft monarchy; as all the little petty ftates; for inftance, Florence to whom thefe voluntiers were going. As if he had faid, I give the place of honour to the emperor and the pope, but not to the free states.

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Thofe 'bated, that inherit but the Fall

Of the last Monarchy; fee, that you come
Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when

The brave St. Queftant fhrinks, find what you feek,
That Fame may cry you loud: I fay, farewel..

2 Lord. Health at your bidding ferve your Majefty! King. Thofe girls of Italy, -take heed of them; They fay, our French lack language to deny,

If they demand *.

Before you ferve.
Both. Our hearts

King. Farewel.

Beware of being captives,

receive your warnings.
Come hither to me. [To Bertram.

[Exit. 1 Lord. Oh, my fweet Lord, that you will ftay be

hind us!

Par. 'Tis not his fault; the fpark

Italy, their chief town being Ariminum, now called Rimini, upon the Adriatick. HANMER.

Sir T. Hanmer reads, Thofe baftards that inherit, &c. with this note.

Reflecting upon the abject and degenerate condition of the Cities and States which arofe out of the ruins of the Roman Empire, the laft of the four great Monarchies of the World.

HANMER.

Dr. Warburton's obfervation is learned, but rather too fubtle; Sir Tho. Hanmer's alteration is merely arbitrary. The paffage is confeffedly obfcure, and therefore I may offer another explanation. I am of opinion that the epithet bigher is to be underftood of fituation rather than of dignity. The. fense may then be this, Let upper Italy, where you are to exercise your valour, fee that you come to gain honour, to the abatement, that is, to the 4

difgrace and depreffion of these that have now loft their ancient military fame, and inherit but the fall of the laft monarchy. To abate is ufed by Shakespeare in the original fenfe of abatre, to depress, to fink, to deject, to subdue. So in Coriolanus,

'till ignorance deliver you, As moft abated captives to fome

nation

That won you without blows. And bated is ufed in a kindred fenfe in the Jew of Venice, in a bondman's key With bated breath and whifP'ring humbleness.

The word has ftill the fame meaning in the language of the law.

4

Beware of being cap

tives, Before you ferve. ] The word ferve is equivocal; the fenfe is, Be not captives before you serve in the war. Be not captives before you are foldiers. 2 Lord.

2 Lord. Oh, 'tis brave wars.

Par. Moft admirable; I have feen 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 ftay here a fore horse, to a smock, Creeking my fhoes on the plain masonry,

'Till Honour be bought up, and no fword worn But one to dance with? by heav'n, I'll fteal away. I Lord. There's honour in the theft.

Par. Commit it, Count.

2 Lord. I am your acceffary, and fo farewel. Ber. I grow to you, and our parting is a tortur'd body.

1 Lord. Farewel, Captain.

2 Lord. Sweet Monfieur Parolles!

6

Par. Noble heroes, my fword and yours are kin; good fparks and luftrous. A word, good metals. You fhall find in the regiment of the Spinii, one captain Spurio with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his finister cheek; it was this very fword entrench'd it; fay to him, I live, and obferve his reports of me. 2 Lord. We fhall, noble captain. Par. Mars doat on you for his novices! what will

ye do?

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