[Whispers a Lord who goes off in the barge of Lysimachus.]
HELICANUS.
Sure, all’s effectless; yet nothing we’ll omit
That bears recovery’s name. But, since your kindness
We have stretch’d thus far, let us beseech you
That for our gold we may provision have,
Wherein we are not destitute for want,
But weary for the staleness.
LYSIMACHUS.
O, sir, a courtesy
Which if we should deny, the most just gods
For every graff would send a caterpillar,
And so inflict our province. Yet once more
Let me entreat to know at large the cause
Of your king’s sorrow.
HELICANUS.
Sit, sir, I will recount it to you:
But, see, I am prevented.
Re-enter from the barge, Lord with Marina and a young Lady.
LYSIMACHUS.
O, here is the lady that I sent for. Welcome, fair one!
Is’t not a goodly presence?
HELICANUS.
She’s a gallant lady.
LYSIMACHUS.
She’s such a one, that, were I well assured
Came of a gentle kind and noble stock,
I’d wish no better choice, and think me rarely wed.
Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty
Expect even here, where is a kingly patient:
If that thy prosperous and artificial feat
Can draw him but to answer thee in aught,
Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay
As thy desires can wish.
MARINA.
Sir, I will use
My utmost skill in his recovery, provided
That none but I and my companion maid
Be suffer’d to come near him.
LYSIMACHUS.
Come, let us leave her,
And the gods make her prosperous!