your high majesty is touch'd With that malignant cause wherein the honour Of my dear father's gift stands
chief in power, I come to tender it and my appliance With all bound humbleness. KING
We thank you, maiden; But may not be so credulous of cure, When our most learned doctors leave us
and The congregated college have concluded That labouring art can never ransom nature From her inaidible
estate; I say we must not So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, To prostitute our past-cure malady To
empirics, or to dissever so Our great self and our credit, to esteem A senseless help when help past sense
we deem. HELENA
My duty then shall pay me for my pains: I will no more enforce mine office on you. Humbly entreating
from your royal thoughts A modest one, to bear me back a again. KING
I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give As one
near death to those that wish him live: But what at full I know, thou know'st no part, I knowing all my peril,
thou no art. HELENA
What I can do can do no hurt to try, Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy. He that of greatest works
is finisher Oft does them by the weakest minister: So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, When judges
have been babes; great floods have flown From simple sources, and great seas have dried When miracles
have by the greatest been denied. Oft expectation fails and most oft there Where most it promises, and
oft it hits Where hope is coldest and despair most fits. KING
I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid; Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid: Proffers not
took reap thanks for their reward. HELENA
Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd: It is not so with Him that all things knows As 'tis with us that square
our guess by shows; But most it is presumption in us when The help of heaven we count the act of men. Dear
sir, to my endeavours give consent; Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. I am not an impostor that
proclaim Myself against the level of mine aim; But know I think and think I know most sure My art is not
past power nor you past cure. KING
Are thou so confident? within what space Hopest thou my cure? HELENA
The great'st grace lending grace Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring Their fiery torcher his diurnal
ring, Ere twice in murk and occidental damp Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp, Or four and
twenty times the pilot's glass Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, What is infirm from your sound
parts shall fly, Health shall live free and sickness freely die.
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By PanEris
using Melati.
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