PAROLES Mort du vinaigre, is not this Helen?
LAFEU Fore God, I think so.
KING
Go call before me all the lords in court.
Exit one or more
Sit, my preserver, by thy patient’s side,
⌈The King and Helen sit]
And with this healthful hand whose banished sense
Thou hast repealed, a second time receive
The confirmation of my promised gift,
Which but attends thy naming.
Enter four Lords
Fair maid, send forth thine eye. This youthful parcel
Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,
O’er whom both sovereign power and father’s voice
I have to use. Thy frank election make.
Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.
HELEN
To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
Fall when love please. Marry, to each but one.
LAFEU (aside)
I’d give bay Curtal and his furniture
My mouth no more were broken than these boys’,
And writ as little beard.
KING (to Helen) Peruse them well.
Not one of these but had a noble father.
HELEN Gentlemen,
Heaven hath through me restored the King to health.
⌈ALL BUT HELEN]
We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
HELEN
I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest
That I protest I simply am a maid.—
Please it your majesty, I have done already.
The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me:
‘We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused,
Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever,
We’ll ne’er come there again.’
KING Make choice and see.
Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.
HELEN (rising)
Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
And to imperial Love, that god most high,
Do my sighs stream.
⌈She addresses her to a Lord]
Sir, will you hear my suit?
FIRST LORD
And grant it.
HELEN Thanks, sir. All the rest is mute.
LAFEU (aside) I had rather be in this choice than throw ambs-ace for my life.
HELEN (to another Lord)
The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
Before I speak, too threat’ningly replies.
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
Her that so wishes, and her humble love.
SECOND LORD
No better, if you please.
HELEN
My wish receive,
Which great Love grant. And so I take my leave.
LAFEU (aside) Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine I’d have them whipped, or I would send them to th’ Turk to make eunuchs of.
HELEN (to another Lord)
Be not afraid that I your hand should take;
I’ll never do you wrong for your own sake.
Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed.
LAFEU (aside) These boys are boys of ice, they’ll none have her. Sure they are bastards to the English, the French ne‘er got ’em.
HELEN (to another Lord)
You are too young, too happy, and too good
To make yourself a son out of my blood.
FOURTH LORD Fair one, I think not so.
LAFEU (aside) There’s one grape yet. I am sure thy father drunk wine, but if thou beest not an ass I am a youth of fourteen. I have known thee already.
HELEN (to Bertram)
I dare not say I take you, but I give
Me and my service ever whilst I live
Into your guiding power.—This is the man.
KING
Why then, young Bertram, take her, she’s thy wife.
BERTRAM
My wife, my liege? I shall beseech your highness,
In such a business give me leave to use
The help of mine own eyes.
KING
Know’st thou not, Bertram,
What she has done for me?
BERTRAM
Yes, my good lord,
But never hope to know why I should marry her.
KING
Thou know’st she has raised me from my sickly bed.
BERTRAM
But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
Must answer for your raising? I know her well:
She had her breeding at my father’s charge.
A poor physician’s daughter, my wife? Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever.
KING
‘Tis only title thou disdain’st in her, the which
I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
Of colour, weight, and heat, poured all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stands off
In differences so mighty. If she be
All that is virtuous, save what thou distik’st—
‘A poor physician’s daughter’—thou dislik’st
Of virtue for the name. But do not so.
From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by th’ doer’s deed.
Where great additions swell’s, and virtue none,
It is a dropsied honour. Good alone
Is good without a name, vileness is so:
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair.
In these to nature she’s immediate heir,
And these breed honour. That is honour’s scorn
Which challenges itself as honour’s born
And is not like the sire; honours thrive
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our foregoers. The mere word’s a slave,
Debauched on every tomb, on every grave
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb
Where dust and dammed oblivion is the tomb
Of honoured bones indeed. What should be said?
If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
I can create the rest. Virtue and she
Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me.
BERTRAM
I cannot love her, nor will strive to do’t.
KING
Thou wrong’st thyself. If thou shouldst strive to choose—
HELEN
That you are well restored, my lord, I’m glad.
Let the rest go.
KING
My honour’s at the stake, which to defeat
I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,