Digital facsimile of the Bodleian First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Arch. G c.7
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King. So staine our iudgement, or corrupt our hope,
King. To prostitute our past‑cure malladie
King. To empericks, or to disseuer so
King. Our great selfe and our credit, to esteeme
King. A sencelesse helpe, when helpe past sence we deeme.
King. Hel. My
King. All's Well that Ends Well.
Hell. Hell.
Hell. My dutie then shall pay me for my paines:
Hell. I will no more enforce mine office on you,
Hell. Humbly intreating from your royall thoughts,
Hell. A modest one to beare me backe againe.
King. King.
King. I cannot giue thee lesse to be cal'd gratefull:
King. Thou thoughtst to helpe me, and such thankes I giue,
King. As one neere death to those that wish him liue:
King. But what at full I know, thou knowst no part,
King. I knowing all my perill, thou no Art.
Hell. What I can doe, can doe no hurt to try,